SECRETS THAT A MOTHER AND SON KEEP (chapter 2)

(Driving Tommy crazy!) The setup to chapter 3.……………………………

Yah! That’s right; my cavernous pussy left gooey wreckage on Tommy’s leather desk chair!

I was intrigued to watch my watery spew flow down a path of creases that were imprinted on the top cover of the cushion. With the help from my long red fingertips pushing It, the juice eventually pooled in the soft depressions were my son’s tender, naked buttocks contact the soothing leather.

The dissimilarity in color of my special mixture and Tommy’s black chair was extremely arousing to see, and I really wanted the little Neanderthal’s to realize that his brazen mother marked her territory! (With an exclamation point)!!

After calming down from my kinky high I showered.

My body felt refreshed and relaxed, I wanted a clear head and I needed a plan for dealing with my perverted son’s activities.

I wish to digress from my story for a little while to tell you about my family….

First of all it pretty small, it’s just my son and I. When Tommy was conserved his father was 14 year old.
It wasn’t a relationship that I was proud of especially since I was only 16 at the time.
I really didn’t want the sperm donor knowing that Tommy was his child.
Considering our young ages we were and other forbidden reasons (which I won’t discuss right now), I figured holding the information from him and everybody else would keep things less complicated.

My high school education was put on hold for the first 2 years of my son’s life however, I was truly blessed that both my younger twin siblings Mitch and Tasha helped me out a great deal raising him.
They both took turns babysitting, feeding, and playing with their little nephew. All the while I worked several low skill jobs just to put food on our table and clothes on our backs.

My mother and father were also very supportive, they bought him the extras in life that I simply couldn’t afford at the time and of coarse sheltered both of us until I could get a leg up in life.

Then one day while I was shopping for groceries I was approached by the owner of a popular gentleman’s club on the outskirts of town.

The hansom proprietor introduced himself as Paul Taylor and proceeded to pitch a dancing position to me working at his club, he said I could make a very good living as an exotic performer.

I listened to his words with great caution! At first I thought he was using a pickup line.

Paul projected himself unknowingly very charismatic and said that I was the perfect trifecta.
I looked young and had a green-eyed angelic face, capping it off with a 5’10” body that was beyond compare. The only thing that he would change about me would be my breasts.

My face hardened with anger by Paul’s bold statement! It was flushed with a bright red hue as I dictated to Paul that I was a 36c and I didn’t need to get any larger!

Scared that I was going to walk away! Paul qualified his remarks by saying that I didn’t necessarily need to be larger just firmer with a more sculpted with a rounder appearance.
Paul added that the women that has had breast enhancements done typically make about 50% more in tips per night than naturally busty performers, and they get asked out for “special events” more frequently to even further increase my monetary potential.

Overcome with Dollar signs in my eyes along with the ring of a cash register in my head.
I was less angered by his provocative statement and he started to make good sense to me.

To sweeten the deal Paul offered to pay for my elective surgery if I signed a 1 year contact with him to exclusively perform at is club.

I was very excited his offer, so I agreed!

Several months passed and my life was finally getting more financially stable after performing in Paul’s club.
I loved the look of my newly formed breasts! And I have to say I’m glad that Paul suggested my improvement because they surely appear perfect. My jelled tits obscenely stretched from my chest like two inordinately filled water balloons ready to burst. (Yep, big, big, big tips indeed)!

Paul was a great boss to work for. He was always true to his word. I was never pressured into having sex with his “guests”. And I was always escorted to any private parties that I performed at. (Keeps down the unwanted wrestling matches).

Working at the club really opened up my eyes to how a man’s brain really works.
The more complicated they appear, the simpler the mind. As demonstrated by their actions it really comes down to one old clich?Men generally think with what’s in between their legs!
Over time I’ve developed certain skills as to how to exploit that flaw of theirs for my advantage.

The only side effect that I noticed while working for Paul’s club is that I became exceptionally self aware of my perfect body.
I loved using it to visually stimulate customers. My mind was in a constant state of arousal.
Just the thought of all those men watching my skilled figure from the audience would love it for me to come down to fuck and suck them.