If you were to ask me today why I fell in dearest with my son, I could n't even set out to excuse it rationally. The undecomposed explanation I could open that made sentiency was that he was there to care for me when cypher else would.

Let me back up just a bit. I have seizures. A lot of them. Most of them are small, but every once in a while, I 'll get one that 's so bad that it knocks out my motor functions for a while ; I ca n't even open a bottle of Cola, at times. Other times, I lose the ability to speak for a few hours, sometimes even up to a day or so. But despite all that, for some ground or another, mostly bureaucratic Irish bull, I ca n't get disability for the longest time.

So while I 've taken a few small occupation, mainly things that do n't expect too a great deal strenuous activity, like a gismo memory board clerk, I 've predominantly had to bank on whoever I was with to submit aid of me. And nearly all of them were prick who just wanted one thing in return. I honestly ca n't say I blame them ; a full-figured woman with a size 16 consistency, a round ass, and 40DD breasts, I 'd want a piece of that, too. And I 'm a horny kick, as well. I masturbate nearly all the time, so I do n't mind getting some `` D '' where I can, but I 'd rather not be someone 's fuck slave.

Finally, right around the time my son, Jackson, graduated high school schooltime, I got approved for impairment. I decided to try living on my own for a alteration. I got a small studio apartment and Jackson moved in with his longtime girlfriend.

Things were very well for a few years ; capital of Mississippi came by quite often to check up on me, make for certain I was doing okay and did n't have any bad seizures. However, things soon soured between him and his girlfriend, and they broke it off. This left Jackson with an apartment and bills that he could barely give on his own. And he had just renewed the letting, too, so he was stuck there for another year.

I think it was actually my estimate to move in with Michael Jackson. For starter, Jackson was probably the only soul I truly trusted to take care of me, as he had done it for years when he was at family. And helping him with rent on his place would actually be tacky than my current living situation.

Thomas Jonathan Jackson 's flat was only a one-bedroom, but the living elbow room was broad enough for me to put most of my bedroom clobber there. My bed was pressed against the bulwark that divided the living room and the kitchen, and Jesse Louis Jackson had taken it upon himself to establish a small cabinet nearby for all of my anovulant and medications.

After a few calendar month of living with Andrew Jackson, I 'd already had maybe two or three seizures. Thomas Jonathan Jackson went in to wreak around noon, but he would always check on me initiative matter in the morning because that was when I had almost of them. If Jackson saw me having one, the get-go thing he would do is engage my hand so that, when I came out of it, I 'd always cognize he was there, and I would squeeze it to let him bang I was antiphonal. Many of my seizures would n't terminal foresighted than a few arcsecond, but there was one that was particularly rough.

I do n't commemorate when I have a seizure ; usually Andrew Jackson will separate me afterwards, or I 'll realize that I 've had one by noting my lack of motor use, or any thin disablement of my speech, both of which are extremely common. That exceptional break of day, Helen Hunt Jackson came down to check on me as pattern, and I 'd informed him that I was n't feeling well. He got me a drunkenness and went back upstairs, saying he would condition on me again in about five minutes.

It seemed like only a duet seconds later that I felt Thomas Jonathan Jackson 's hand in mine, and he was calling out, `` Mom ! Mom ! '' It was aloof, though, like he was miles away from me. My visual sensation, which was blurry, slowly started to clear up. I finally saw him leaning over me ; one helping hand was gripping mine, and his other hand was on my collarbone, just above my left breast.

'' Mom, can you take heed me ? '' he asked. `` Squeeze my hand if you can. '' I squeezed his bridge player as hard as I could, which was n't very heavily at all. He felt it, however, because his face, his all eubstance, relaxed, and he let out a breather of relief. He was still worried, however ; that look never disappeared from his case. He lifted his bridge player from my collarbone, and I realized that my heart had been beating quite rapidly. I was n't sure if it was from the ictus, or from Helen Maria Fiske Hunt Jackson 's touch.
Stonewall Jackson gave me my Master of Education, which I had n't taken yet, and got me a cup of H2O to take them with.

'' Here, '' he said. I took them, my hands shaking the whole fourth dimension, I could barely book the water.

'' Did ... I ... '' My words were n't coming to me, and I knew the response before Jackson opened his backtalk to respond.

'' Yeah, you had another gaining control, '' he said. I started to ask how long it had been, but again, I could n't take form the words. Again, capital of Mississippi understood. `` I do n't make love how longsighted it was before I came down, but I was down here for about five minutes or so. ``

I lay back down in thwarting as Michael Jackson pulled out his phone to make a call. To my surprise, he was calling in to work, feeding them some bullshit about having a kidney Oliver Stone. They apparently bought it, because they gave him a couplet daytime off. Once he hung up the phone with them, he crawled into bed with me and put his arms around me, hand on my breadbasket, which made my pith beat faster and faster inside my chest.

'' You 'll be alright, '' he said. I placed my hand on top of his and cuddled up next to him. The fact that he was there was the only matter that kept me from bursting into tears.

***

A hebdomad later, I still did n't have use of my voice, but I was feeling a bit firm physically. I could move around, and actually stand up to go outside for a green goddess. By the tierce day, I could speak a bit, but some words were still gruelling to find. Jesse Jackson wound up going into oeuvre that day, leaving me by myself in the apartment.
Jackson had n't left my incline for More than thirty proceedings that workweek, which meant I had n't had very much of a chance to rub one out. He 'd even catch some Z's in the like bed with me, which I enjoyed his company, but I did n't dare try to even return myself a quickly digit, since Stonewall Jackson was, I knew, a light sleeper. Jackson and I were n't shy when it came to talking about sex, but having him walk in on me during a passionate moment of narcism, that might have been a fiddling awkward.

A week after my gaining control, when Andrew Jackson had left for work, I pulled out my night bag and dug oceanic abyss for one of my favored toy : a studded vibrator. I started going to my phone for one of my `` old reliables, '' but then realized that Jackson had a pot of porno videos upstairs I had n't looked through yet. I quickly hopped up to his water closet and saw his stack.

He had, I was impressed to say, the full `` Nailin'Palin '' serial, which I made a mental `` maybe '' of. There was actually quite a miscellany : BBW, Asian/Japanese, hentai, lesbian, MILF erotica, everything. There were even a few classics like tabu and Deep Throat. I did n't clear that Jackson was such a porno connoisseur. I grabbed one of the `` Nailin'Palin '' videos, popped it in, and started going to town on mysef, but I stopped before I really got started. I could n't turn back thinking about Jackson, and I was n't sure why. I tucked my vibrator away, turned off the video, and rolled over to go to sleep.

A few hours later, the door opened and Andrew Jackson came in. I looked up and saw him holding a frozen boxed pizza pie under his arms. He used his invertebrate foot to close the door before walking across the room to my bed.

'' Hey, '' he said softly. `` Feeling better ? '' I shook my head no ; about of my words still had n't come back to me yet.

'' What ... variety ... ? '' I started to ask, but he beat me to the punch.

'' Pepperoni, '' he announced as he opened the box in the kitchen. I stood up and walked into the kitchen with my drink cup. I moved past times him and opened the electric refrigerator to pour me a Coca Cola. I tried to unscrew the cap, but I still did n't have the arm strength to turn it. I tried for a few s, and got more disturb with each passing moment. Eventually, I got frustrated to the stage that I slammed the bottle against the counter, and broke down into tears.

Michael Jackson looked up and saw me crying, and put his hand on my articulatio humeri. `` Here, let me, '' he said. He grabbed the bottle and opened it with simpleness. He poured the Aspinwall into the cup and then grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer before closing the lid. I watched through the tear as he finished up and handed the cup to me. I took it from him, but then set it down and intersect my hands over my chest.

'' Hey, '' he said, putting his hand on my Chin and lifting my caput to depend at him. `` You 're going to be fine, '' he assured me.

'' I ... do n't ... have intercourse ... '' The word disappeared.

'' I do do it that, '' he said. `` You 've always come back before, and this prison term is no different. '' His hand touched my buttock and, he wiped away my tears with his thumb. I smiled at him ; my look felt like it was glowing.

'' Come here, '' he said, wrapping his weaponry around my shoulders and pulling me close to him. I suddenly caught a puff of the Koln on his neck, and my stomach filled with butterfly. That flavor, combined with having his eubstance pressed against mine, caused my head to become fill with filthy thoughts. Without realizing it, I took in a oceanic abyss breathing time of him.

It was at that moment that he kissed me on the brow, and my affectionateness skipped a pulse. I lifted my head just a little and found his eyes ; they were deep blue, and staring into mine. The butterflies came back in force, and I was suddenly filled with a horse sense of desire.

I do n't know what in the world possessed me to do what I did next. It might suffer been the pills I was taking ; one of them did have the side impression of heightened sexual arousal, and I had n't rubbed one out in at to the lowest degree a week, before this most recent seizure. Maybe it was the fact that I had n't known a man 's jot in over two, maybe even three old age. And Jesse Louis Jackson just happened to be there. Hell, maybe it was some compounding of all three, I do n't know. But it does n't weigh what it was that caused my brain to go where it did ; all that mattered was what happened next.

I puckered my lips and moved in to kiss him. Our rim met briefly, but I jerked them back at the last mo, second guessing myself. I then leaned back in to go again, but I stopped short, having come to my locoweed. But suddenly, before I could process it, his backtalk were on mine, and all my inhibitions went out the window. I closed my eyes and pushed my lips against his ; my heart was on fire, and I could experience my passion rising. Goosebumps rose on my bare skin, and I felt my womanhood shakiness in anticipation.

I felt his hands move down my back, and in reception I reached down into his pants and took his hammer into my hand. It was n't stiff yet, but I knew that a few good jerk would get it there in no clock time. Our natural language were now snaking around each other. I started to stroke him, and he went rock hard in my mitt. His manus found the undersurface of my shirt and made their way underneath it, crawling up my rachis. I was myopic on breather ; his feeling was driving me absolutely wild. Words would not be able to convey just how badly I wanted him to be inside me right then.

He drove me backwards up against the paries, causing his big, potent hands to dig into my dorsum, turning me on even more. He dragged his nails down my spine, and a soft moan escaped my oral fissure, which was still locked firmly with his. I pulled away just long enough to whisper breathlessly, `` I want you ... in me ... now. '' He responded by burying his nerve against mine and kissing me so hard that it felt like all the air in my lungs had been sucked out.

I felt his manus grope for my kitty-cat through the front of my pajama trouser, and I moaned softly into his ear as he continued to touch me. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and my tenderness pounded wildly in my chest. His hands then burrowed under the waistline of my pyjama knickers. First, he grabbed a smattering of my fleshy ass cheeks, which sent a tingle through my body. Then, his hired man moved around my side, caressing my waist. He dragged his finger's breadth through my wet snatch, his finger found my intumesce button, and I melted. I suddenly got even pixilated than I thought was possible ; I was practically gushing at this point.

I pulled my hand from his pants and went to forge unbuttoning them before pulling out his cock. Once free from its blue jean prison, it felt seemed even large than before. We turned so that he was against the wall, and then I squatted down, legs bedcover, and took him into my lip. I rubbed myself through my pajamas with one hand, balancing myself against the rampart with my other, sucking his pole with only my lip and tongue.

I could find every inch of his engorged stopcock as it slid down my fuddled throat. I licked him all up and down as he went in and out. Soon, he started to nip and throb, preparing to cum. I pulled him out and quickly ripped off my shirt, exposing my black lace bra. A moment later, his hot white cum blasted my tits. Gobs of it clung to my sweaty skin, and a few wayward strands hung from my chin.

My clit was throbbing, and I could n't waitress for him anymore. I stood up, pulled down my jammies pants, leaned into him and whispered hoarsely, `` Fuck me ... now. ``

I pulled him against me and walked him backwards towards my bed. I fell backwards onto the mattress and pulled him on top of me. Our sassing met again, and my consistency was getting hotter by the arcsecond. I reached around him and began scratching his back with my nails ; he responded by pressing his sass harder into mine before moving his kisses down my neck, towards my collar bone. His hand then moved around my book binding and unclasped my bra, which fell away and left my 40DD white meat to string up freely. He licked and sucked both nipples stiff, and then he moved his mitt down to my second joint, tracing the inside and teasing me to my tipping point ; I was absolute putty in his hands, and he knew it.

He spread my legs wide, and my wet snatch awaited him. The tip of his cock positioned against my twat, which was dripping like a waterfall. `` Do it, '' I whispered softly. `` Put it in me. I want all of it- ''

I had n't even finished my sentence before capital of Mississippi shoved himself into me. I screamed loudly, but his mouth found mine again and what remained of the scream vanished into his mouth with a strangle moan.

It was out-and-out seventh heaven. My blood raced through me, and I could find my vagina stretching and contracting with every stab. His pelt was sticky with sweat, as was mine. His chest rubbed against my vertical nipples, and his hip crusade were sinewy, almost machinelike. I placed a hand on his face, caressing it gently, stroking it. My other hand found his, and he gripped it tightly, interlacing his finger with mine. I squeezed it tightly, and he responded by doing the same.

Suddenly, he moved down to my collarbone, and bit down. Not hard, but enough to ca-ca me squeal like a girl. I gripped his hand tighter, and was soon gasping in time with every driving force, each seemingly more powerful than the live on. My pussy was throbbing, and his breaths shoal. He was focused, I could tell ; all his energy was being spent on making sure that we both came fast and that he filled my slit with his cum, which is exactly where I wanted it.

I instinctively squeezed my pelvic muscles in clock time with his movements, milking his cock with every push. His unloosen hired man grabbed my breast, and his early hired man squeezed mine tightly ! I wrapped my branch around his waistline, and he was suddenly abstruse in me than ever before !

'' I 'm going to ... '' a groan forced its way out of me as I spoke. `` You 're making me cum, son. I 'm ... cumming ... Oh God ! '' The tip of his promontory pounded against the cover wall of my vagina, and I was finished ; my slit contracted super tight around him, yet he was somehow still throwing it. Every single thrust made me cum again and again. I was shaking in his men, but his soupcon, his body against mine, assured me that everything would be alright.

'' I 'm cumming, too, mom ... '' he wheezed. `` I 'm about to ... ''

'' Yes, I know, '' I said, kissing him eagerly between parole. `` I want it ... inside me. All inside ... '' I was breathless, and my unhurt body was shaking in anticipation. About the time of my fifth orgasm, as I started to cry from the cristal, Mahalia Jackson wrapped his hands around my organic structure, pulling me close to him as he gave one final exam Lord knife thrust, throwing his extremity as far into my kitty as it would go before blowing his warm, sticky seed deep into my belly.

I was floating, somewhere far away from Earth. I was on a cloud, with solitary Jackson with me. He stayed hard for several import before pulling out. My vaginal muscularity contracted and I soon felt his punk start to leak out of my pussy. I moved to kiss him again, and my fondness skipped again when his rim touched mine.

'' That ... was ... amazing ... '' I breathed in between kisses.

'' Really ? '' he asked, surprised. `` I thought I was kinda quick. ``

'' No, it was ... perfect, '' I assured him. He smiled and his body finally gave out, collapsing against mine. I pulled him close to me, and we were both asleep in minutes, the pizza pie forgotten on the countertop .