Chapter 2
Chapter 2
My mother Akira wanted to see me. I wanted to see her too. We both wanted to have this familial contact after so much time without looking at each other. My father had abandoned her and she felt sad and demoralized. With my absence, she felt lonely, and she needed me, and I needed to see her to offer her my support and affection.
The problem was that I was interned in a high-performance military barracks where, after completing my service, I aspired to get a place at the University of the Armed Forces of the country, and the main rule during that year was to have zero contact with our direct blood relatives.
And these rules resulted somewhat strange and contradictory, since despite being prohibited from having contact with our loved ones to test our loyalty and priority to the nation in an eventual battlefield case, we were allowed to satisfy our sexual needs by paying prostitutes with our own scholarships.
Under these terms, and seeing myself unable to see my mother otherwise, I thought that one option for her to come to the barracks and spend the entire night with me was precisely making her pass as a prostitute.
My plan made sense and I had the certainty that if we acted wisely it could work. After all, no one knew my mother in that place. I never showed her a photo to my comrades and fellow soldiers, especially because we weren't even allowed to have cell phones.
Another point that played in our favor was that physically none of us looked alike, since Akira, my mother, had Asian features which I hadn't inherited not even the skin color, as I more resembled my father.
When I presented this idea to my mother, she remained silent for several seconds. I felt like my esophagus was freezing and she began to breathe with difficulty. —Are you okay, mom? —I said worriedly.
There was a prolonged silence, then a response:
—Ehhh, yes, yes, I think so, my little lead soldier... it's just that I got a bit winded for an instant.
The only positive thing about that moment was that Astrid, my favorite slut who used to come every 15 days to my room to fornicate, had stayed silent after minutes of exaggeration in which she simulated having the best sex of her life in the arms of my hypocritical friend Alex. I laughed at knowing that Alex didn't last long pounding her, even though his intention was to surpass me. I imagined Astrid's face of disappointment when she saw how little performance her male for the time had and I felt satisfied for a moment.
Not as satisfied with my mother's silence, which had been left stunned after I told her that the only solution for her to visit me was to become a prostitute.
—Sorry if my proposal impacted you, mom, but for now it's one way I have to see you without being sanctioned. It's just that like this, no one would know you're my mother and... well...
—Yes... yes, son, don't explain yourself, I repeat that I simply... got winded.
Her voice sounded between impacted and nervous. I felt bad for having proposed something like that. My desire to see her had made me lose my head.
—Hey, mom, if you feel uncomfortable, then we'll find another solution and... well. I swear I never intended to make you uncomfortable or disrespect you by suggesting something like that.
Mom laughed, but it was a nervous and anguished laugh.
—No, no, my life; calm down, what's happening is that good, you know, it cost me to assimilate what you just told me. But it's not because I felt offended. I understand that it's the only way for us to see each other. What happens is that as a mother never expects her son to have to do... in the life of... harlot... to see him. I felt a little disturbed. The truth is that, if we put ourselves to think seriously, this whole situation was indeed a bit uncomfortable, embarrassing and even turbid.
—You don't have to do it, huh, my beautiful? —I used to be very affectionate with her since childhood. The truth is that from a young age I was very close to her, more than with my father, and for that reason we were accustomed to this kind of displays of affection.
The previous one is another reason why she had taken our separation so badly.
—I want to do it, heart, I need to see you, no matter what else.
—It matters to me, mother. I won't let you go through this shame... degradation, as you like to call it, just to fulfill the whim of your son who wants you to come and see him.
—I don't know how comforting it feels to hear such words, my little lead soldier: it's been so long since I felt... so loved that it's hard for me to believe that my son needs me. Do you really want to see me, Erik?
—You have no idea, mother, and what about you? Do you really want to see me?
—I'm longing for it, darling. I would do anything to be with you... even if it's just for an instant.
—I know, my beautiful. I know that you would do anything to be by my side, but now that I think about it, I think I overstepped proposing... that... so no.
I felt a knot in my stomach. Something completely embarrassing that wouldn't let me calm down. How had I suggested to my own mother that she should prostitute herself to come and see me, for crying out loud!
—You know I don't care, huh, darling? If the 15th is your visitation day... and I have to go as... one of those women, then... I'll do it, I swear I'll go.
—But mom...
—But nothing, Erik. Tell me what time I should be there... at the military barracks. Tell me what to say and who I should direct myself to in order to see you... how does that kind of visit work?
—No, no, not at all, mother. Forget what I said and please trust that we can find another alternative.
—Please, son, don't make me do this. If you gave me this alternative is because you think it's the only way for us to see each other, what's your problem? It's true that at first I felt... strange, but it passed. My desires to hug and fill you with kisses are greater than my shame and modesty.
—I won't risk your integrity, mom! Don't insist, because I won't let someone disrespect you thinking you're...!
—A prostitute instead of your mother? —she replied securely. And I felt terribly uncomfortable when she said that to me.— Come on, sweetheart, I'm old enough to handle situations like this. I already told you my desires to see you are worth more than any humiliation. Unless (how didn't it occur to me before) that sudden change of heart is because, precisely, my age is your real problem.
Her response confused me.
—But what are you talking about? What's the problem?
She kept silent for two seconds, took a breath and said:
—Well... since I'm an old woman, Erik, you're afraid that your reputation among your comrades... will get tarnished.
—What?
—Son, if that's your problem, tell me, no matter how much it hurts, I swear I'll understand.
—But...
—Son —she continued with a sad and resigned tone—. I'd be unable to turn you into the laughingstock of the entire barracks for receiving an old woman like me. I'd feel extremely guilty knowing that because of me you'd leave in shame before the whole barracks... After all... if your father changed me because I'm over forty... it's much more logical that a young man like you...
—Please, woman! Can't you let me talk?! —I exclaimed, feeling terribly indignant that she thought I had such a concept of her.— Is it that you've gone crazy, mom? How did you come up with the idea that I'd be ashamed to have my comrades at the barracks see you? Did the separation from dad really hurt your self-esteem so much? Is it that you don't... Have you seen yourself in a mirror? You're the most beautiful woman in the world! And to top it off, with your age you've only gotten better and...
—Erik... look... don't try to fix it, I swear I'll understand if...
—I'm telling you to let me talk, please! I don't feel ashamed about myself! Just the opposite! Do you know that among the cadets in the barracks, milfs... I mean... women who are milfs are the ones with the most weight? Do you know that women of your age are our favorites?
My mother made a surprised sound with her mouth.
—Did you say ours? —she asked me with a tone of voice full of indignation—... Are you receiving visits... of this type... from women... in your room?
Her scolding as a mother who finds out that her precious son is having sex with prostitutes (and which almost seemed like an absurd scolding given the context) left me almost stunned.
—Mother... please... don't start lecturing me about this, okay? I mean... I'm also old enough and you know about my... male needs...
—Yes! Yes! I understand! Already, already, yes, yes, no more, you don't have to explain anything, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! —She reacted extremely embarrassed. Almost as if she could imagine me with a gesture of disgust and fright that would have been funny in other circumstances—
You don't have to say anything... Erik...
—But I want to explain, Mother... It's more painful for me than it is for you and I swear that... I wouldn't like you to think that you have a perverted son... It's just that you have to know that here, locked up with no contact with girls... at my age... I have certain needs and...
—Let it be, Erik! Oh God, forgive me, dear, but it's very uncomfortable for me to talk about these things with you. But I swear that... sometimes I forget that you're not a child anymore... and that, indeed, at your age... well... yes... you need... a woman who...! Ay, no, I'm talking too much again! Let's go back where we were before... do you want?—
—Yes, it's fine... sorry, didn't mean to bother you... ay, aaay… —See, mom, breathe... and as you say, I'll go back where I was before, where I was telling you that, far from what you think, it would be a privilege for everyone to know that you, so beautiful and majestic, come with me. I want to say that instead of mockery, I would be the object of envy and admiration. My mom stayed silent for a moment. I felt my heart pounding very hard. She waited cautiously and breathed deeply again and said: —Are you talking seriously, son, or just trying to make me feel good? —What if I'm saying it's serious when I say that milf women are the favorites of my companions? Yes, mom, they're the sensation, everyone loves them. And that's why I'm telling you that if they see me with you, they'll think I'm the luckiest guy in the world. She stayed silent again. I could hear her breathing heavily. —But... and you...? —She sounded so nervous when she asked me that question that for a moment I thought her voice would give out—. And you, Erik... Do you also prefer... to milf women like me...? I mean... not like me... but... milf, do you understand?, if you like milf women. I was quite surprised by my mother's nervousness when she asked that, especially because she only got stuck on her words when she felt uncomfortable with something. —Yes —I admitted with total sincerity and a little sadness—. I'm fascinated by milfs... mom... you don't know how much. I don't know what happened in that moment but my head started spinning and turned sour, showing me dirty images that were terribly turbid and disgusting to me. At first those images emerged thinking of Astrid's naked body, with her enormous bright and greasy breasts bouncing up and down on her torso while she was riding me with vehemence, shouting obscenities in bulk, just like she had done only an instant ago on the other side of my room. At first those images emerged thinking of her legs obese thighs crushing my legs with every sit. Thinking about her pussy sucking me in. But suddenly... even if I was thinking of Astrid's naked body when I closed my eyes, when I opened them again, I got a big surprise to discover that it was the face of my mother completely congested with lust staring at me like a promiscuous woman while she danced on my cock.
***
WTF?! What the hell was I thinking? Guy! Guy! Guy!
I felt so much shame for having profaned the image of my progenitor by bringing her involuntarily into my head in such a grotesque and obscene way, that I almost wanted to apologize over the phone. And I would have done if it weren't because I understood she... wasn't even aware of what was going on in her depraved son's head.
—Erik? Son, are you still on the line?
—Uh? Ah, yes, mom... sorry... sorry... there was interference... but I'm here...
I felt much more guilty when the image of my mother naked, with her enormous breasts hanging from her chest, produced an erection in me. JODEEEER!
—Ah, good, because I had been worried, dear... but then what, son? Do you want to... go ahead with this plan?
With the erection in my pants I admitted that just that was what I wanted most. That is; not that she would come as a slut to see me, but simply that she would come... Joooder! If I accepted this plan I would be mortified and constantly anxious about thinking that whoever saw her enter might disrespect her by believing she was an authentic prostitute, and I wouldn't have the possibility of defending her to avoid generating suspicions.
If I accepted the plan, I would have to accept all the downsides it implied, such as the fact that no matter how hard we tried, in the end they would discover the truth, that she was my mother and not a prostitute. Or if we really managed to pass the test of fire and everyone swallowed the story that she was a woman of the life
galant... someone might get interested or infatuated with her (like it had happened with Astrid) and they would start bothering me to pass on their contact information so we could schedule a date with her, which would fill me with deep rage.
But if I refused, then my mother would get upset, thinking that I was ashamed of her, which would make her self-esteem worse than it already was now.
So I had to decide what was best for both... even if in the end I knew it wasn't the best.
—Okay, mom... let's go ahead with the plan.
***
I swear by God that that was the most uncomfortable conversation I've had since she agreed to come see me on the 15th as a prostitute. Not even this discomfort compares to accepting in front of her that I needed prostitutes every 15 days to satisfy my sexual needs.
No. What was truly uncomfortable was having to plan how she would dress, what name she would introduce herself with, and all those protocols you have to follow when entering a military barracks.
—Are you sure they won't ask for my official identification at the entrance, Erik? Because if they look at my last names... they might suspect that you're my son, not a client.
The word client bothered me a bit, at the same time it made my erection continue to press against my boxer briefs. It was hard for me to get rid of that image of hers... my mother in her underwear, lustful, sexy... with her breasts hanging out and her nipples poking at my tongue, while my cock pointed towards her wet vagina.
What the hell was happening? Was I going crazy? Mother of God, but we're talking about my progenitor, the woman who gave birth to me and through whose vagina I was extracted!
—No, no, no... mom, they'll only ask for your fingerprint —I stammered—. The law allows this kind of anonymity between those who engage in... This... profession. —Ah... I understand, and then how should I present myself to the entrance filter inspectors? What name will I give them, son? Good question. The truth is that I had no idea. —Ammm, I don't know. I hadn't thought about it, do you have any particular name in mind? Mother reflected silently. —Akira —she responded very confidently, leaving me amazed. —Akira? Mom, but if that's your real name. How many Akiras do you know in this country? Your name is already... quite peculiar, how will you present yourself like that? —Have you told anyone my name, Erik? —I'm telling you we can't talk about them with anyone. We're supposed to have forgotten each other during our training at this barracks. —Well then, there you have it, Erik, no bigger problem is expected. It's just that... if they're going to take away my condition as mother and lady to come see you... at least let me keep my name. Do you think anyone will really care how I'm called? —Pffft... but it's just that... prrr--- well... okay, fine... whatever you want. Still with the phone in my ear, I returned to my bed and lay down, with the light off. I needed darkness to think and absorb all this. I needed to relax and let my fallopian tube stop being so hard. I needed to get my imaginary mother's breasts out of my head! —Do you really need to wear very... suggestive clothing, heart? —she asked with such naturalness that it seemed she was truly getting into her role—. Very provocative clothes... are necessary, right, darling? Tight... suggestive... sensual... That question wasn't something I expected at the time. I remained silent because I didn't know what to say. It's just that I couldn't imagine my mother, so proper and refined, arriving at the military barracks dressed like normal prostitutes; in a mini skirt almost up to her booties' midsection, high heels, and cleavages almost up to her... breasts.
—I assume your silence confirms what I imagine, right Erik? I have to arrive dressed in a way... according to my profession.
—Damn it, mom, on that topic... the truth is that I'll leave it up to your consideration... at your discretion! It would give me so much shame just to tell you how you should dress to... make your role convincing. You know what I mean.
—Don't worry, darling, I'll take it into account.
—But please, mom, do me a favor and have someone bring a taxi from home here! A reliable taxi. You can wear... a long, discreet coat that hides the rest of the wardrobe. Pffft, mom, just thinking about the neighbors or someone on the street seeing you dressed like that... I swear my head is going to burst!
—You already told me not to worry, Erik. Trust me. I'll take care of it.
—I just can't be calm knowing this will be very hard for you... and for me. But I promise you that the most uncomfortable part will be when you pass the first security filter...
—What do you mean, son?
—I mean... it's inevitable that in that filter... you...
I didn't notice when it happened, what second or instant, but before I knew it, I had already taken out my hard erection and was massaging it with my free hand, rubbing it, squeezing it... and feeling crazy from the tip.
—You're listening to me, my heaven.
—See... mom... —I said, still seeing her big nipples anchored in my face—... there will be a filter at the entrance where you'll present yourself with your name of... prostitute... although good, you say you'll leave your real name. There, in that filter, you'll show your purse so they can check if it contains no drugs or weapons.
—I understand, son, and so far I don't see any major complication with this topic.
—The problem is that... according to what our occasional girlfriends have told us... sometimes the guys who receive pros... Women of the gallant life take advantage of them and... they manhandle them more... They've told us themselves about that uncomfortable moment. Oh, mother... I don't know if we'll be able to get through this. Now that we're planning it, I see it's even more complicated than before.
I know these things affected my grandmother, but she pretended everything was fine not to mortify me.
—Continue...
—And so... I think that's the hardest part... reviewing the military barracks entrance... If they exceed with you or say something disrespectful, I swear I'll...!
—You'll stay calm, my little lead soldier, Mom will take care of the rest.
Hearing her speak like that gave me security. It reminded me of my childhood days. But at the same time... it made me anxious more.
—Are you sure? It's just thinking about it... trying to imagine having to go through that terrible humiliation for my stomach to twist inside me.
—I'm telling you, don't worry, Erik... it's not like they're going to kill you. Just tell me... can I bring my phone? Can I carry money and personal items in my purse?
And then I had to confess the worst part of the review.
—Well, yes... with that, you can enter... but... there's something more, Mom... something I haven't told you yet, and it might... discourage you.
—What is it, Erik?
My glans continued secreting droplets.
—It's that... I'm ashamed to tell you... and maybe... this will really upset you.
—Son, please, you're scaring me, what's it about?
Despite the darkness, I closed my eyes and said:
—You have to bring... condoms... with you.
—What?
Mom's big breasts were still bouncing on my face as my rational part tried to calm her down so she could accept this last requirement with naturalness. But I couldn't stay calm. I was erect... and Mom's nipples were hitting me in the face. indispensable requirement! She was breathing deeply. She was completely surprised, scared and nervous. —For God's sake... son, I mean... with your father, he didn't use... I want to say... you understand me, my love... the IUD and those things and... —Yes, yes, mom, yes... don't tell me anything. Pffft! Just what I needed, for you to tell me about your intimacy. Oh, mom... how much shame I feel saying this... I had never imagined my mother in this way before. The IUD, condoms... one never imagines the intimate life of their parents. A normal son never visualizes his mother's breasts bouncing naked and sweaty, begging to have her nipples sucked. —What can I say... my love but... if you're being sincere, that requirement has really surprised me... But I suppose the authorities want to make sure you don't contract venereal diseases and... —S... yes... just that... Uncomfortable silence reigned for a couple of seconds again. —I'll get them, son, don't worry about it. —But mom, even now you can still send all this to the trash! I'm not going to make you go through the embarrassment of buying condoms at a pharmacy! I'm sure with your father you never had to submit to such indignities... and now I have to be the one who puts you in this position so... embarrassing for you. Pffft...! I just can't see a woman like you, with your class... with your... age... with your prejudices... buying condoms! Pffft...! —Stop mortifying yourself and me more, please, Erik. I already told you that in order to see you again I'm willing to go through this and more... besides... it's not like it would kill someone, right? It's normal... you've already confirmed it yourself and I'm still... in the age of intimate life and... —Please, please, mom, please... let's not talk about this anymore! I think we've said everything we needed to say. Let's not hurt each other or make ourselves uncomfortable. Let's just think that all this... will be for us to see again other time.
—Just what I needed, my little lead soldier. It's precisely this illusion that I'll stick with to do all of this with valor. I'm sure it will be worth every sacrifice, shame, and humiliation we have to go through just to... spend one night with you.
And after fine-tuning the last details of the plan, we told each other how much we loved each other, what we missed and said goodbye.
What was coming for both of us was a real madness.
***
When I cut off the call with my mom, I deleted the call log and turned off the phone. The rest of the night, I didn't hear Astrid and Alex fuck again.
The next day, I handed over the son of a slut the cell phone and thanked him from the bottom of my heart outside. Now that I knew what kind of scorpion and envious he was, I could never trust him again. Not him or anyone else.
During breakfast, training, dinner, and the rest of the days, the guy kept rubbing it in my face about the championship fuck he said he gave to your slut Astrid. His intention was to leave me looking ridiculous in front of others.
Obviously, I didn't miss a chance to ridicule him too in front of our teammates, telling him that from when Astrid arrived until she left, I had only heard her moaning for 15 minutes.
—Don't tell me you're not the man, Alexito? —I laughed at him and the rest of the team joined me—. Because I won't believe it if you tell me Astrid is one of those who settles for just one screw. Remember that during all the nights she visited me, the delicious slut never stopped wailing until dawn. What didn't you have yourself and the others listening outside my door or from your own rooms?
As the guy couldn't take my teasing, he accused me of being jealous and humiliated because Astrid had slept with him.
—But don't be upset, Erik, next time your slut will clear up any doubts. Astrid will tell you how much she made me wail all night. The what's going on is that you fell asleep because you couldn't handle her being with me.
I laughed out loud at her string of lies, and then I said:
—Judge me narcissistic and presumptuous if you want, Alexito, but once my whores are used by other cocks, I lose interest in them. Astrid will never enter my room again. So I'm giving her to you, go ahead and screw her whenever you want, as far as I'm concerned, I've already contacted a new one... —I didn't have the courage to call my mom a slut—, a woman who will come on my next visit day to spend the night with me.
—How's that? —asked a boy named Pablo—. Where did you get her? From the catalog?
It was just then that I realized there was this small inconvenience. My mother wasn't in the catalog. I was about to start worrying about this small detail when Pablo himself gave me the solution.
—Because if she's not in the catalog, it means she's a recommended one from our frequent whores, right?—
—Eh... Yes... just like that, Pablito. She... is a recommended one... Astrid herself showed me the photos of my new prospect and I chose her.
—And have you already passed her name to Lieutenant Altamira? He's the one who makes the lists.
—Eh... Just tomorrow morning, Pablo, thanks for reminding me.
Alex, who seemed completely skeptical about what I was saying, asked with a certain irony:
—And tell us, Erik, will this new slut be better than Astrid? Because I don't believe it, eh? Astrid is the best slut in that crappy catalog.
—How do you think, Alexito, that the woman I contacted is much better than all the whores together who have come to the barracks?
—Don't tell me! With how Astrid was into you, do you really expect me to swallow the story that she herself got you another slut, and, most exaggeratedly, one that's even better than her, according to you?
—The day she arrives at the barracks, you'll see for yourself if I'm lying or not.
—Does she have good buttocks? —Pablo wanted to know.
—They're so round and turgid that... I'm capable of letting myself be asphyxiated in tremendous ass — I said, and to my bad luck, I felt a terrible erection in my pants that left me like a pervert who gets excited imagining his own mother. —And what about her tits? —Héctor wanted to know. —Enormous, my esteemed... two lady udders that I swear will not stop bouncing on my face all night. —Fucking hell, Erik! —Besides... Akira... that's her name —I committed the imprudence of saying in order to jerk off the idiot Alex who was still not believing a single word—... has Asian features, which generates much more morbo for me. It will be like... like fucking a milf from hentai... There was a great commotion when I said that. And such expectation did not end until the day agreed upon. All my companions were eager to meet my new slut called Akira, with an infarcted ass and tits of hell that would replace Astrid. The expectation was so great that I seriously regretted having told them all those stupid things just to jerk off Alex. They had been following me all day, watching each one of my movements. And I began to feel uncomfortable. —What are you guys doing here? —I asked Alex and several companions who were formed in the hallway outside my room, around seven o'clock at night, when there was little time left before the arrival of my mother. —Nothing, nothing, Erik —Alex mocked—. We just want to see your new whore. She won't be late much longer, right? I'm only waiting for her to arrive and hope that she really turns out as foxy and maciza as Astrid, or I'll think you chose this Akira to replace the other by deception. So I'll be very attentive, my good friend... to see if with this new slut you're also capable of making her scream all night. —What? Don't jerk me off, you prick! The challenge that Alex suddenly imposed on me was not contemplated. In fact... I didn't even imagine it would be posed to me. What was going to happen when my mother arrived dressed as a slut... ready to spend the entire night with her client... who was also her son? How the hell was I going to assume Alex's challenge... making my mother yell like a slut all night? That would be impossible... in every way it would be impossible. Unless... I had to really fuck her.My Instagram
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Chapter 2My mother Akira wanted to see me. I wanted to see her too. We both wanted to have this familial contact after so much time without looking at each other. My father had abandoned her and she felt sad and demoralized. With my absence, she felt lonely, and she needed me, and I needed to see her to offer her my support and affection.
The problem was that I was interned in a high-performance military barracks where, after completing my service, I aspired to get a place at the University of the Armed Forces of the country, and the main rule during that year was to have zero contact with our direct blood relatives.
And these rules resulted somewhat strange and contradictory, since despite being prohibited from having contact with our loved ones to test our loyalty and priority to the nation in an eventual battlefield case, we were allowed to satisfy our sexual needs by paying prostitutes with our own scholarships.
Under these terms, and seeing myself unable to see my mother otherwise, I thought that one option for her to come to the barracks and spend the entire night with me was precisely making her pass as a prostitute.
My plan made sense and I had the certainty that if we acted wisely it could work. After all, no one knew my mother in that place. I never showed her a photo to my comrades and fellow soldiers, especially because we weren't even allowed to have cell phones.
Another point that played in our favor was that physically none of us looked alike, since Akira, my mother, had Asian features which I hadn't inherited not even the skin color, as I more resembled my father.
When I presented this idea to my mother, she remained silent for several seconds. I felt like my esophagus was freezing and she began to breathe with difficulty. —Are you okay, mom? —I said worriedly.
There was a prolonged silence, then a response:
—Ehhh, yes, yes, I think so, my little lead soldier... it's just that I got a bit winded for an instant.
The only positive thing about that moment was that Astrid, my favorite slut who used to come every 15 days to my room to fornicate, had stayed silent after minutes of exaggeration in which she simulated having the best sex of her life in the arms of my hypocritical friend Alex. I laughed at knowing that Alex didn't last long pounding her, even though his intention was to surpass me. I imagined Astrid's face of disappointment when she saw how little performance her male for the time had and I felt satisfied for a moment.
Not as satisfied with my mother's silence, which had been left stunned after I told her that the only solution for her to visit me was to become a prostitute.
—Sorry if my proposal impacted you, mom, but for now it's one way I have to see you without being sanctioned. It's just that like this, no one would know you're my mother and... well...
—Yes... yes, son, don't explain yourself, I repeat that I simply... got winded.
Her voice sounded between impacted and nervous. I felt bad for having proposed something like that. My desire to see her had made me lose my head.
—Hey, mom, if you feel uncomfortable, then we'll find another solution and... well. I swear I never intended to make you uncomfortable or disrespect you by suggesting something like that.
Mom laughed, but it was a nervous and anguished laugh.
—No, no, my life; calm down, what's happening is that good, you know, it cost me to assimilate what you just told me. But it's not because I felt offended. I understand that it's the only way for us to see each other. What happens is that as a mother never expects her son to have to do... in the life of... harlot... to see him. I felt a little disturbed. The truth is that, if we put ourselves to think seriously, this whole situation was indeed a bit uncomfortable, embarrassing and even turbid.
—You don't have to do it, huh, my beautiful? —I used to be very affectionate with her since childhood. The truth is that from a young age I was very close to her, more than with my father, and for that reason we were accustomed to this kind of displays of affection.
The previous one is another reason why she had taken our separation so badly.
—I want to do it, heart, I need to see you, no matter what else.
—It matters to me, mother. I won't let you go through this shame... degradation, as you like to call it, just to fulfill the whim of your son who wants you to come and see him.
—I don't know how comforting it feels to hear such words, my little lead soldier: it's been so long since I felt... so loved that it's hard for me to believe that my son needs me. Do you really want to see me, Erik?
—You have no idea, mother, and what about you? Do you really want to see me?
—I'm longing for it, darling. I would do anything to be with you... even if it's just for an instant.
—I know, my beautiful. I know that you would do anything to be by my side, but now that I think about it, I think I overstepped proposing... that... so no.
I felt a knot in my stomach. Something completely embarrassing that wouldn't let me calm down. How had I suggested to my own mother that she should prostitute herself to come and see me, for crying out loud!
—You know I don't care, huh, darling? If the 15th is your visitation day... and I have to go as... one of those women, then... I'll do it, I swear I'll go.
—But mom...
—But nothing, Erik. Tell me what time I should be there... at the military barracks. Tell me what to say and who I should direct myself to in order to see you... how does that kind of visit work?
—No, no, not at all, mother. Forget what I said and please trust that we can find another alternative.
—Please, son, don't make me do this. If you gave me this alternative is because you think it's the only way for us to see each other, what's your problem? It's true that at first I felt... strange, but it passed. My desires to hug and fill you with kisses are greater than my shame and modesty.
—I won't risk your integrity, mom! Don't insist, because I won't let someone disrespect you thinking you're...!
—A prostitute instead of your mother? —she replied securely. And I felt terribly uncomfortable when she said that to me.— Come on, sweetheart, I'm old enough to handle situations like this. I already told you my desires to see you are worth more than any humiliation. Unless (how didn't it occur to me before) that sudden change of heart is because, precisely, my age is your real problem.
Her response confused me.
—But what are you talking about? What's the problem?
She kept silent for two seconds, took a breath and said:
—Well... since I'm an old woman, Erik, you're afraid that your reputation among your comrades... will get tarnished.
—What?
—Son, if that's your problem, tell me, no matter how much it hurts, I swear I'll understand.
—But...
—Son —she continued with a sad and resigned tone—. I'd be unable to turn you into the laughingstock of the entire barracks for receiving an old woman like me. I'd feel extremely guilty knowing that because of me you'd leave in shame before the whole barracks... After all... if your father changed me because I'm over forty... it's much more logical that a young man like you...
—Please, woman! Can't you let me talk?! —I exclaimed, feeling terribly indignant that she thought I had such a concept of her.— Is it that you've gone crazy, mom? How did you come up with the idea that I'd be ashamed to have my comrades at the barracks see you? Did the separation from dad really hurt your self-esteem so much? Is it that you don't... Have you seen yourself in a mirror? You're the most beautiful woman in the world! And to top it off, with your age you've only gotten better and...
—Erik... look... don't try to fix it, I swear I'll understand if...
—I'm telling you to let me talk, please! I don't feel ashamed about myself! Just the opposite! Do you know that among the cadets in the barracks, milfs... I mean... women who are milfs are the ones with the most weight? Do you know that women of your age are our favorites?
My mother made a surprised sound with her mouth.
—Did you say ours? —she asked me with a tone of voice full of indignation—... Are you receiving visits... of this type... from women... in your room?
Her scolding as a mother who finds out that her precious son is having sex with prostitutes (and which almost seemed like an absurd scolding given the context) left me almost stunned.
—Mother... please... don't start lecturing me about this, okay? I mean... I'm also old enough and you know about my... male needs...
—Yes! Yes! I understand! Already, already, yes, yes, no more, you don't have to explain anything, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! —She reacted extremely embarrassed. Almost as if she could imagine me with a gesture of disgust and fright that would have been funny in other circumstances—
You don't have to say anything... Erik...
—But I want to explain, Mother... It's more painful for me than it is for you and I swear that... I wouldn't like you to think that you have a perverted son... It's just that you have to know that here, locked up with no contact with girls... at my age... I have certain needs and...
—Let it be, Erik! Oh God, forgive me, dear, but it's very uncomfortable for me to talk about these things with you. But I swear that... sometimes I forget that you're not a child anymore... and that, indeed, at your age... well... yes... you need... a woman who...! Ay, no, I'm talking too much again! Let's go back where we were before... do you want?—
—Yes, it's fine... sorry, didn't mean to bother you... ay, aaay… —See, mom, breathe... and as you say, I'll go back where I was before, where I was telling you that, far from what you think, it would be a privilege for everyone to know that you, so beautiful and majestic, come with me. I want to say that instead of mockery, I would be the object of envy and admiration. My mom stayed silent for a moment. I felt my heart pounding very hard. She waited cautiously and breathed deeply again and said: —Are you talking seriously, son, or just trying to make me feel good? —What if I'm saying it's serious when I say that milf women are the favorites of my companions? Yes, mom, they're the sensation, everyone loves them. And that's why I'm telling you that if they see me with you, they'll think I'm the luckiest guy in the world. She stayed silent again. I could hear her breathing heavily. —But... and you...? —She sounded so nervous when she asked me that question that for a moment I thought her voice would give out—. And you, Erik... Do you also prefer... to milf women like me...? I mean... not like me... but... milf, do you understand?, if you like milf women. I was quite surprised by my mother's nervousness when she asked that, especially because she only got stuck on her words when she felt uncomfortable with something. —Yes —I admitted with total sincerity and a little sadness—. I'm fascinated by milfs... mom... you don't know how much. I don't know what happened in that moment but my head started spinning and turned sour, showing me dirty images that were terribly turbid and disgusting to me. At first those images emerged thinking of Astrid's naked body, with her enormous bright and greasy breasts bouncing up and down on her torso while she was riding me with vehemence, shouting obscenities in bulk, just like she had done only an instant ago on the other side of my room. At first those images emerged thinking of her legs obese thighs crushing my legs with every sit. Thinking about her pussy sucking me in. But suddenly... even if I was thinking of Astrid's naked body when I closed my eyes, when I opened them again, I got a big surprise to discover that it was the face of my mother completely congested with lust staring at me like a promiscuous woman while she danced on my cock.
***
WTF?! What the hell was I thinking? Guy! Guy! Guy!
I felt so much shame for having profaned the image of my progenitor by bringing her involuntarily into my head in such a grotesque and obscene way, that I almost wanted to apologize over the phone. And I would have done if it weren't because I understood she... wasn't even aware of what was going on in her depraved son's head.
—Erik? Son, are you still on the line?
—Uh? Ah, yes, mom... sorry... sorry... there was interference... but I'm here...
I felt much more guilty when the image of my mother naked, with her enormous breasts hanging from her chest, produced an erection in me. JODEEEER!
—Ah, good, because I had been worried, dear... but then what, son? Do you want to... go ahead with this plan?
With the erection in my pants I admitted that just that was what I wanted most. That is; not that she would come as a slut to see me, but simply that she would come... Joooder! If I accepted this plan I would be mortified and constantly anxious about thinking that whoever saw her enter might disrespect her by believing she was an authentic prostitute, and I wouldn't have the possibility of defending her to avoid generating suspicions.
If I accepted the plan, I would have to accept all the downsides it implied, such as the fact that no matter how hard we tried, in the end they would discover the truth, that she was my mother and not a prostitute. Or if we really managed to pass the test of fire and everyone swallowed the story that she was a woman of the life
galant... someone might get interested or infatuated with her (like it had happened with Astrid) and they would start bothering me to pass on their contact information so we could schedule a date with her, which would fill me with deep rage.
But if I refused, then my mother would get upset, thinking that I was ashamed of her, which would make her self-esteem worse than it already was now.
So I had to decide what was best for both... even if in the end I knew it wasn't the best.
—Okay, mom... let's go ahead with the plan.
***
I swear by God that that was the most uncomfortable conversation I've had since she agreed to come see me on the 15th as a prostitute. Not even this discomfort compares to accepting in front of her that I needed prostitutes every 15 days to satisfy my sexual needs.
No. What was truly uncomfortable was having to plan how she would dress, what name she would introduce herself with, and all those protocols you have to follow when entering a military barracks.
—Are you sure they won't ask for my official identification at the entrance, Erik? Because if they look at my last names... they might suspect that you're my son, not a client.
The word client bothered me a bit, at the same time it made my erection continue to press against my boxer briefs. It was hard for me to get rid of that image of hers... my mother in her underwear, lustful, sexy... with her breasts hanging out and her nipples poking at my tongue, while my cock pointed towards her wet vagina.
What the hell was happening? Was I going crazy? Mother of God, but we're talking about my progenitor, the woman who gave birth to me and through whose vagina I was extracted!
—No, no, no... mom, they'll only ask for your fingerprint —I stammered—. The law allows this kind of anonymity between those who engage in... This... profession. —Ah... I understand, and then how should I present myself to the entrance filter inspectors? What name will I give them, son? Good question. The truth is that I had no idea. —Ammm, I don't know. I hadn't thought about it, do you have any particular name in mind? Mother reflected silently. —Akira —she responded very confidently, leaving me amazed. —Akira? Mom, but if that's your real name. How many Akiras do you know in this country? Your name is already... quite peculiar, how will you present yourself like that? —Have you told anyone my name, Erik? —I'm telling you we can't talk about them with anyone. We're supposed to have forgotten each other during our training at this barracks. —Well then, there you have it, Erik, no bigger problem is expected. It's just that... if they're going to take away my condition as mother and lady to come see you... at least let me keep my name. Do you think anyone will really care how I'm called? —Pffft... but it's just that... prrr--- well... okay, fine... whatever you want. Still with the phone in my ear, I returned to my bed and lay down, with the light off. I needed darkness to think and absorb all this. I needed to relax and let my fallopian tube stop being so hard. I needed to get my imaginary mother's breasts out of my head! —Do you really need to wear very... suggestive clothing, heart? —she asked with such naturalness that it seemed she was truly getting into her role—. Very provocative clothes... are necessary, right, darling? Tight... suggestive... sensual... That question wasn't something I expected at the time. I remained silent because I didn't know what to say. It's just that I couldn't imagine my mother, so proper and refined, arriving at the military barracks dressed like normal prostitutes; in a mini skirt almost up to her booties' midsection, high heels, and cleavages almost up to her... breasts.
—I assume your silence confirms what I imagine, right Erik? I have to arrive dressed in a way... according to my profession.
—Damn it, mom, on that topic... the truth is that I'll leave it up to your consideration... at your discretion! It would give me so much shame just to tell you how you should dress to... make your role convincing. You know what I mean.
—Don't worry, darling, I'll take it into account.
—But please, mom, do me a favor and have someone bring a taxi from home here! A reliable taxi. You can wear... a long, discreet coat that hides the rest of the wardrobe. Pffft, mom, just thinking about the neighbors or someone on the street seeing you dressed like that... I swear my head is going to burst!
—You already told me not to worry, Erik. Trust me. I'll take care of it.
—I just can't be calm knowing this will be very hard for you... and for me. But I promise you that the most uncomfortable part will be when you pass the first security filter...
—What do you mean, son?
—I mean... it's inevitable that in that filter... you...
I didn't notice when it happened, what second or instant, but before I knew it, I had already taken out my hard erection and was massaging it with my free hand, rubbing it, squeezing it... and feeling crazy from the tip.
—You're listening to me, my heaven.
—See... mom... —I said, still seeing her big nipples anchored in my face—... there will be a filter at the entrance where you'll present yourself with your name of... prostitute... although good, you say you'll leave your real name. There, in that filter, you'll show your purse so they can check if it contains no drugs or weapons.
—I understand, son, and so far I don't see any major complication with this topic.
—The problem is that... according to what our occasional girlfriends have told us... sometimes the guys who receive pros... Women of the gallant life take advantage of them and... they manhandle them more... They've told us themselves about that uncomfortable moment. Oh, mother... I don't know if we'll be able to get through this. Now that we're planning it, I see it's even more complicated than before.
I know these things affected my grandmother, but she pretended everything was fine not to mortify me.
—Continue...
—And so... I think that's the hardest part... reviewing the military barracks entrance... If they exceed with you or say something disrespectful, I swear I'll...!
—You'll stay calm, my little lead soldier, Mom will take care of the rest.
Hearing her speak like that gave me security. It reminded me of my childhood days. But at the same time... it made me anxious more.
—Are you sure? It's just thinking about it... trying to imagine having to go through that terrible humiliation for my stomach to twist inside me.
—I'm telling you, don't worry, Erik... it's not like they're going to kill you. Just tell me... can I bring my phone? Can I carry money and personal items in my purse?
And then I had to confess the worst part of the review.
—Well, yes... with that, you can enter... but... there's something more, Mom... something I haven't told you yet, and it might... discourage you.
—What is it, Erik?
My glans continued secreting droplets.
—It's that... I'm ashamed to tell you... and maybe... this will really upset you.
—Son, please, you're scaring me, what's it about?
Despite the darkness, I closed my eyes and said:
—You have to bring... condoms... with you.
—What?
Mom's big breasts were still bouncing on my face as my rational part tried to calm her down so she could accept this last requirement with naturalness. But I couldn't stay calm. I was erect... and Mom's nipples were hitting me in the face. indispensable requirement! She was breathing deeply. She was completely surprised, scared and nervous. —For God's sake... son, I mean... with your father, he didn't use... I want to say... you understand me, my love... the IUD and those things and... —Yes, yes, mom, yes... don't tell me anything. Pffft! Just what I needed, for you to tell me about your intimacy. Oh, mom... how much shame I feel saying this... I had never imagined my mother in this way before. The IUD, condoms... one never imagines the intimate life of their parents. A normal son never visualizes his mother's breasts bouncing naked and sweaty, begging to have her nipples sucked. —What can I say... my love but... if you're being sincere, that requirement has really surprised me... But I suppose the authorities want to make sure you don't contract venereal diseases and... —S... yes... just that... Uncomfortable silence reigned for a couple of seconds again. —I'll get them, son, don't worry about it. —But mom, even now you can still send all this to the trash! I'm not going to make you go through the embarrassment of buying condoms at a pharmacy! I'm sure with your father you never had to submit to such indignities... and now I have to be the one who puts you in this position so... embarrassing for you. Pffft...! I just can't see a woman like you, with your class... with your... age... with your prejudices... buying condoms! Pffft...! —Stop mortifying yourself and me more, please, Erik. I already told you that in order to see you again I'm willing to go through this and more... besides... it's not like it would kill someone, right? It's normal... you've already confirmed it yourself and I'm still... in the age of intimate life and... —Please, please, mom, please... let's not talk about this anymore! I think we've said everything we needed to say. Let's not hurt each other or make ourselves uncomfortable. Let's just think that all this... will be for us to see again other time.
—Just what I needed, my little lead soldier. It's precisely this illusion that I'll stick with to do all of this with valor. I'm sure it will be worth every sacrifice, shame, and humiliation we have to go through just to... spend one night with you.
And after fine-tuning the last details of the plan, we told each other how much we loved each other, what we missed and said goodbye.
What was coming for both of us was a real madness.
***
When I cut off the call with my mom, I deleted the call log and turned off the phone. The rest of the night, I didn't hear Astrid and Alex fuck again.
The next day, I handed over the son of a slut the cell phone and thanked him from the bottom of my heart outside. Now that I knew what kind of scorpion and envious he was, I could never trust him again. Not him or anyone else.
During breakfast, training, dinner, and the rest of the days, the guy kept rubbing it in my face about the championship fuck he said he gave to your slut Astrid. His intention was to leave me looking ridiculous in front of others.
Obviously, I didn't miss a chance to ridicule him too in front of our teammates, telling him that from when Astrid arrived until she left, I had only heard her moaning for 15 minutes.
—Don't tell me you're not the man, Alexito? —I laughed at him and the rest of the team joined me—. Because I won't believe it if you tell me Astrid is one of those who settles for just one screw. Remember that during all the nights she visited me, the delicious slut never stopped wailing until dawn. What didn't you have yourself and the others listening outside my door or from your own rooms?
As the guy couldn't take my teasing, he accused me of being jealous and humiliated because Astrid had slept with him.
—But don't be upset, Erik, next time your slut will clear up any doubts. Astrid will tell you how much she made me wail all night. The what's going on is that you fell asleep because you couldn't handle her being with me.
I laughed out loud at her string of lies, and then I said:
—Judge me narcissistic and presumptuous if you want, Alexito, but once my whores are used by other cocks, I lose interest in them. Astrid will never enter my room again. So I'm giving her to you, go ahead and screw her whenever you want, as far as I'm concerned, I've already contacted a new one... —I didn't have the courage to call my mom a slut—, a woman who will come on my next visit day to spend the night with me.
—How's that? —asked a boy named Pablo—. Where did you get her? From the catalog?
It was just then that I realized there was this small inconvenience. My mother wasn't in the catalog. I was about to start worrying about this small detail when Pablo himself gave me the solution.
—Because if she's not in the catalog, it means she's a recommended one from our frequent whores, right?—
—Eh... Yes... just like that, Pablito. She... is a recommended one... Astrid herself showed me the photos of my new prospect and I chose her.
—And have you already passed her name to Lieutenant Altamira? He's the one who makes the lists.
—Eh... Just tomorrow morning, Pablo, thanks for reminding me.
Alex, who seemed completely skeptical about what I was saying, asked with a certain irony:
—And tell us, Erik, will this new slut be better than Astrid? Because I don't believe it, eh? Astrid is the best slut in that crappy catalog.
—How do you think, Alexito, that the woman I contacted is much better than all the whores together who have come to the barracks?
—Don't tell me! With how Astrid was into you, do you really expect me to swallow the story that she herself got you another slut, and, most exaggeratedly, one that's even better than her, according to you?
—The day she arrives at the barracks, you'll see for yourself if I'm lying or not.
—Does she have good buttocks? —Pablo wanted to know.
—They're so round and turgid that... I'm capable of letting myself be asphyxiated in tremendous ass — I said, and to my bad luck, I felt a terrible erection in my pants that left me like a pervert who gets excited imagining his own mother. —And what about her tits? —Héctor wanted to know. —Enormous, my esteemed... two lady udders that I swear will not stop bouncing on my face all night. —Fucking hell, Erik! —Besides... Akira... that's her name —I committed the imprudence of saying in order to jerk off the idiot Alex who was still not believing a single word—... has Asian features, which generates much more morbo for me. It will be like... like fucking a milf from hentai... There was a great commotion when I said that. And such expectation did not end until the day agreed upon. All my companions were eager to meet my new slut called Akira, with an infarcted ass and tits of hell that would replace Astrid. The expectation was so great that I seriously regretted having told them all those stupid things just to jerk off Alex. They had been following me all day, watching each one of my movements. And I began to feel uncomfortable. —What are you guys doing here? —I asked Alex and several companions who were formed in the hallway outside my room, around seven o'clock at night, when there was little time left before the arrival of my mother. —Nothing, nothing, Erik —Alex mocked—. We just want to see your new whore. She won't be late much longer, right? I'm only waiting for her to arrive and hope that she really turns out as foxy and maciza as Astrid, or I'll think you chose this Akira to replace the other by deception. So I'll be very attentive, my good friend... to see if with this new slut you're also capable of making her scream all night. —What? Don't jerk me off, you prick! The challenge that Alex suddenly imposed on me was not contemplated. In fact... I didn't even imagine it would be posed to me. What was going to happen when my mother arrived dressed as a slut... ready to spend the entire night with her client... who was also her son? How the hell was I going to assume Alex's challenge... making my mother yell like a slut all night? That would be impossible... in every way it would be impossible. Unless... I had to really fuck her.My Instagram
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