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Raping My Screaming Mother In The Shower

She had it coming. Running around and acting like a slut all the time. Who the hell did she think she was? As the man of the house, it was high time I put my foot down and raped some sense into that tight, motherly cunt of hers.

Waiting for just the right time for maximum impact, I pounced.



Excerpt:

Ever since I'd come back from college, mom had been acting funny. Funny as in wearing skimpy clothes in my presence, drinking more and just generally acting slutty.

My mom had always been an upstanding member of her church and would've never lowered herself like that.

But ever since dad left and I trotted off to college, something snapped inside her. Perhaps it was years of being too rigid. Whatever it was, I really didn't like it.

Don't get me wrong, mom was a stunner. Big, bouncy boobs that her short miniskirts and no bra could barely contain, large, wide, motherly hips and long, blonde hair that streamed down to her mid-back. Plus the steeliest blue eyes I've ever seen.

To say I wanted to fuck her was an understatement.

But this crap of her acting like a slutty 18-year-old in her first semester of college had to stop. She wasn't 18. She was 43. And - as far as I was concerned - she needed to grow up and act her age.

I waited until she had stepped into the shower to make my move. See, I was going to rape some sense into my mother. She needed a good dose of growing up.

I smiled as I quietly slipped into the steamy bathroom. I grabbed all of mom's clothes and tossed them in the hall, then very quietly locked the door.

"Honey?" Mom asked, concern etched in her unsure voice. "Is that you?"

I stealthily hid behind the cabinet and waited for her to pull back the curtain and look around. I saw a glimpse of my mother's 34 DD breasts. All soaped up, they looked very tempting. They swung free in the shower, hanging down succulently. And I longed to reach out and grab them.

But I waited.

"Honey?" Mom glanced around the room, her eyes wide and a bit frightened. For a moment there, I thought she was going to get out of the shower and look around. But thankfully she didn't.

My heart practically thundered in my chest as I waited. And waited. And waited. Holy shit, how long did women fucking take to shower?

Through the frosted glass, I watched mom soap up, rub every part of her body - spending altogether too much time on her breasts - and then finally rinse it off. Then she fucking did it again! Holy shit!

The moment she wet her hair and rubbed shampoo in it, closing her eyes, I pounced.

As naked as the day I was born, I tip-toed into the shower behind her, waited for just the right second, then grabbed her from behind by the throat.

"Don't. Say. A. Word." I whispered threateningly in her ear.

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