Chapter 1

Debbie looked at her reflection in the mirror and back down at the card she held in her hand. She was not pleased with what she saw in either. What she saw was a middle-aged woman with a “matronly” figure; the face was still pretty, but the body had definitely softened with age.

Twenty-year high-school class reunion, she thought. Has it really been that long?

“Yes, it has,” she said aloud to the reflection, “and you’ve really let yourself go. You look like crap!”

She took stock of what six years of widowhood and the resulting inattention to her personal appearance had wrought. Thirty-eight years old, a pretty face with just a hint of the puffiness of the beauty that had been there before, shoulder-length blond hair, dark almost to the point of being brunette, tall at five feet ten with a bosom that would have been enormous on a smaller frame. Her legs had once been slender but now were beginning to thicken, especially as they flared into cellulite-covered thighs and a well-rounded buttocks. She was carrying about 30 more pounds than she should and looked it.

I can’t go looking like this! she thought. The least I can do is lose a little weight and get in shape! Looks like I better spend some time in the gym.

Walking over to the dresser, she rooted through the drawers for some workout clothes. Nothing she found seemed to fit. Everything was about two sizes too small; even the athletic bra fit her like the skin on a sausage. Settling for an old pair of her husband’s sweatpants and sweatshirt, she headed downstairs to the basement.

When her husband was killed in a commuter airline crash, the resulting insurance and lawsuit settlement had left her a fairly wealthy woman. With part of her newfound wealth, she had had a portion of the basement professionally remodeled into a small but well-equipped gymnasium. She had envisioned working out as a therapy to help deaden the pain of her loss, but also anticipated that her then 12-year-old son, Mark, would use it as he grew up. She had been half-right. While her grief therapy had consisted mostly of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, Mark had become seriously involved in athletics and spent a considerable amount of his time there.

Walking down the basement steps, she could hear loud music coming from the direction of the gym. As she opened the door and looked around, she was assaulted by the blaring sound. The gym was a well-lit, 20-by-30 area filled, but not overly crowded, with gleaming exercise and weight equipment. It looked even bigger than it was due to the mirrors that had been installed on every wall, giving an illusion of great depth to the room.

Debbie glanced around the room, and her eyes settled on her son off to one side. He was flat on his back at one of the machines, pushing a bar vertically into the air above his chest. She walked towards him, noticing the numbers on the weights behind his head as they rose and fell with the rhythm of his expanding chest. Two-hundred twenty pounds, they said. My God, she thought! He’s lifting almost one and a half times what I weigh!

As she approached the weight machine, Mark slowly lowered the bar, took a deep breath, and sat up.

“Oh, hi, Mom,” he said. “You need me for something?”

“No, honey. I just thought I would get a little exercise myself.”

“Great idea. I was just finishing up for today; do you want me to help you with anything?” He stood up and stretched. When he did, Debbie involuntarily took in a little breath.

Mark was now seventeen years old, almost eighteen, stood just over six feet tall, and weighed about 180 lbs. He was in superb condition with broad shoulders and a muscular torso that tapered down to relatively slim hips. His shirt was off, and she could see every muscle rolling beneath his skin as if they were chiseled in stone. He split his time between playing wide receiver on the varsity football team and the wrestling squad and looked every inch the athletic god that he was.

“He was state runner-up this year,” she thought to herself, “and next year he’ll be state champion.” Then it seemed to hit her all at once: “My God, he’s beautiful!” She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him without his shirt or wrestling singlet and was stunned by the sheer perfection of his body. The slight glistening of sweat covering his chest combined with the slight musk smell of a heated male animal magnified the sense of a herd bull in his prime. Her stomach suddenly felt like a knot had been twisted in her intestines. “No,” she thought, “not just my stomach, lower.” For the first time in over six years, Debbie felt a stab of desire between her legs, a warm, moist feeling that she had thought gone forever.

Trying to remain nonchalant, she turned her head away and said, “N-no, I think, well, I guess I’ll just try some of these on my own.”

“OK, Mom, whatever you say. I’m going to take a shower and get some studying done. Exams are coming up soon, and I want to be prepared. Do you want me to change the station for you before I leave?”

“No, this one is okay, but could you turn it down a little?”

“Sure, no problem! I like my head-banging tunes loud when I pump iron. Gets the juices flowing, ya know.” He flexed his chest and loudly grunted, “Uhr-raw!” He walked over and turned a knob on a panel next to the door. The volume of the music lessened considerably, and he headed into the combination shower/toilet next to the gym.

His final flex set off twinges in her lower abdomen again, and as she watched him stroll from the room, she couldn’t help but think, He is going to have to beat the girls off with a stick soon. Then another thought came to her unbidden. Or maybe they are going to have to beat his stick off! She couldn’t help but think, With that package up on top, what is the package like below? Blushing furiously at her last thought, she turned back to the gym.

“Where to start?” she asked herself aloud. Maybe a little run on the treadmill will “get the juices flowing”, she thought. Putting thought to action, she walked over to the machine in question. Having used it a few times when it was first installed, she had some slight idea of how it worked. Reaching over, she flipped the on/off switch. The treadmill softly hummed, and the long rubber tread started to move. The readout on the panel read “6 MPH.” Thinking that was awfully slow, she hit the increase-speed button until it was going 10 mph.

That should do it, she thought. The faster I go, the faster I’ll get rid of this flab!

Jumping onto the moving belt, she immediately found herself running as fast as she could just to keep from being thrown off. This is just what I need!

Five minutes later, she was breathing heavily and starting to sweat. After seven minutes, her heart was pounding, her lungs were on fire, and her legs began to feel like lead. At ten minutes, she couldn’t keep up and was practically thrown off the machine.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” she gasped. She struggled up the treadmill’s readout and looked at the calories-burned reading: it said 10. She had about killed herself and had burned fewer calories than what she would get in one spoonful of ice cream! She felt like crying.

Over the next few weeks, Debbie did her best to continue with her workouts. She was convinced that the more she sweated, the more she would lose. She ran on the treadmill until it hurt and stopped, then tried some of the weights, but they hurt too much. Trying everything she could think of, and at the end of two weeks, she weighed herself again. She had lost only one pound! She was devastated!

Coming home from his last day of school, Mark found his mother with her head in her arms, sobbing at the kitchen table.

“Mom, what’s the matter? Are you all right?” he cried.

“Oh, Mark, I am such a mess!” she sobbed as she raised her head. “I tried and I tried, but I just can’t do it! I’m a cow, and that’s the way everybody is going to see me!”

“What are you talking about, Mom?” He was puzzled but could sense there was no immediate danger. “You’re no cow! What’s this all about?”

Debbie proceeded to tell him about the upcoming reunion and her attempts to get back into shape, her subsequent failure, and utter sense of hopelessness.

“Is this really that important to you, Mom? I mean, I think you’re pretty, and if you could stand to lose a few pounds, well, that’s okay too.”

“Yes, it’s important to me,” said Debbie. “I hadn’t realized just how important it was until now. For the past few years, I feel I have been drifting: no purpose, no focus, and no direction. I want that back. I want to feel good about myself; I want you to feel good about me! I feel like if I can’t do this, I’ll be a useless lump for the rest of my life.”

“Well, how about getting yourself a personal trainer, someone to come in and help you? Just like when my coaches run us through our conditioning. Sometimes it takes someone outside of ourselves to keep us motivated and focused on our goal.”

“Oh no! I can’t have some stranger in here. I just can’t!” Debbie started to sob again, but then she suddenly stopped and looked up at Mark. “But what about you? You’ve done this before, you know how to get in shape and stay there! You can do this for me!”

“I don’t know, Mom,” he hesitated. “I know what coaches do to us when we go through conditioning. It’s tough, even brutal! I don’t know if I could do that to you.”

“Please, you must! If you love me, you’ll help me! I don’t care how you do it, or what you do to me, just help me get this done! Please, Mark, I’m begging you! Please help me!” She grabbed his hands and looked desperately into his eyes.

“Okay, Mom, okay, I’ll help you all I can. But you know this isn’t easy. It’s going to take a lot of hard work, dedication, and motivation. You may even end up hating me before it’s all done,” he said, looking at her with an almost sad expression.

“Baby, I could never hate you! But I really need to do this, and not just for my silly reunion. I need to do this for me, so I can look myself in the mirror in the mornings, so I can have some pride in myself, and I want you to be proud of me too!” Debbie’s eyes were still puffy and red from crying, but there was a glint of determination there also.

“Okay,” Mark said, “then we start tomorrow. Today we begin by changing your diet, and you need to pick up some new workout clothes. I’ll get a training schedule set up and pick up a few things myself. You know, Mom,” Mark said with an evil gleam in his eye, “this is going to hurt you a lot worse than it’s going to hurt me!”

---

“Time to get up! Let’s go! Get out of bed!”

Debbie rolled over and looked at her clock. Six o’clock! She rolled back over and looked at Mark standing in the doorway. “You have got to be kidding. We’ll start in a few hours; now let me get some sleep.”

“Get out of bed, you fat cow! Move it!” Marks voice was loud but not to the point of shouting.

“Mark! You can’t talk to me that way. What are you thinking of?”

“From now on, you will address me as Coach. Not Mark, not son, not baby, or honey. Do you understand? If we’re going to do this, it will be my way or no way!”

Debbie took a short intake of breath and looked into the son’s unblinking eyes. What she saw sent a chill down her spine. She felt a little apprehension, a little confusion, and maybe even a little fear. But there was also a hint of something else, a warmth in the pit of her stomach, a sense of pleasure, just a hint, but still there. Here was someone who cared about me, someone who would take care of me. Someone to look up to after all these years.

“Yes, Mar ... Coach,” she whispered. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Good,” he said, “then get your ass down in the gym right now.” He turned around without a backward glance and strode away.

She got out of bed quickly, making her way to the bathroom where she did her business and put on her new spandex workout clothes she’d laid out the night before. Still a little lightheaded from sleep, she went down to the basement gym.

Mark was standing in the middle of the gym floor, looking straight at her as she entered the room. He had his feet placed shoulder-width apart and his hands clasped behind his back. His face showed no expression, and his eyes glinted like two pieces of pale blue ice. He was wearing a tight pair of nylon coach’s shorts and a gray t-shirt that emphasized rather than hid his muscular build. Her heart started beating rapidly when she saw him, wondering just what she’d gotten herself into. But like a rabbit caught by the eyes of a snake, she couldn’t do anything but stand there and tremble.

“You will start with warming-up exercises,” he said. “Watch what I do and follow along exactly.” He proceeded to show her how to stretch her legs, arms, abdomen, and back.

“You will begin and end each session with this routine. Do you understand?”

“Yes, dear ... I mean Coach.”

“Good, now begin.” Mark watched his mother try to repeat the stretching exercises he’d just shown her. His heart had been beating faster since he woke his mom up that morning. This is a real rush, he thought to himself. He had never felt this kind of power before, having always been on the receiving end of this kind of “coaching.” He could even feel his dick start to get semi-hard. It wasn’t that he found his mom all that sexually appealing ― in fact, the flab rolls squeezed out between her warm-up clothes were fairly unattractive ― but the thought of dominating and controlling someone was exciting. And while he was at it, he had to admit that even though she wasn’t in the best of shape, his mom did have a pretty face, and if she lost weight, could be very attractive. Debbie groaned as she finished her stretching and stood up.

“Now we will start you on the treadmill. This should get your heart rate up. Get up here, and let’s get you started.” Moving over to the treadmill, Debbie stepped onto the dreaded belt. Mark reached over and started the machine, setting the level at 3 mph. The speed was that of a comfortable, if fast, walk, so Debbie had no trouble keeping up. Mark picked up a clip that was attached to the treadmill by a long, thin wire. Uncoiling the wire, he attached the clip to her earlobe.

“This is a heart rate monitor. Your target heart rate is 120 beats per minute. Let’s see how long it takes you to get up to that level.” A small heart began to flash on the treadmill’s display, and the number 98 appeared next to it. After two minutes, the number started to slowly increase, first to 100, then to 105.

“This is pretty easy, Coach. I don’t think I’ll ever get to 120,” Debbie said with a smile.

“Just shut up and save your breath; in about five minutes, you’re going to need it!” Mark looked at her unsmilingly with ice-cold eyes. “You will not question me, do you understand?” When she didn’t say anything, he repeated, ”Do, you, understand?”

“Yes! Yes, I understand, uh, Coach!” That feeling in the pit of her stomach was back: a little fear mixed with a little excitement. God, he’s sexy when he speaks to me like that, she thought. Blushing at that thought, she turned and focused on the display: the heart rate now read 115.

“Good. Now listen while I explain your regime for the next few months.” He began to tell her how she would get up every morning for a brief one-and-a-half-hour warm-up followed by breakfast and a one-hour break. This would be followed by an intense two-hour workout. After lunch, there would be another one-hour break followed by another two-hour workout, a soaking in the hot tub, and then dinner.

“The rest of the evening will be yours, if you can move by then,” he said with a hint of a smile.

While he was explaining her program, beads of sweat began to break out on her forehead. What she thought was an easy pace was beginning to wear her down, and her breath started to come in little gasps.

Looking at the display, Mark saw her heart rate was now over 120, climbing up to 125. “Good,” he said, “you are now at your target rate. We will keep this up for the next 10 minutes.”

Debbie was starting to get tired and slowed down, moving back on the belt a little.

“Keep moving, bitch!” he shouted and gave her a light smack on the butt with his hand. The little tap, while not painful, surprised her so much that she involuntarily sped up to match the machine. In fact, it distracted her so much that she entirely forgot that he had just called her a bitch.

At the end of ten minutes, Mark turned off the treadmill and allowed her to get off. She was covered with sweat and visibly laboring for breath.

“Now we will continue the workout.” True to his word, Mark led her through a series of aerobic exercises and calisthenics for the next half-hour, ending with the stretching routine he had shown her earlier. By the end of the workout, she felt completely worn out.

“Good start. Now go get a hot shower and come upstairs for breakfast.”

His praise made her feel good and helped relieve the ache in her muscles. Although she wasn’t really that hungry, the thought of some breakfast made her stomach growl. She went next door, stripped for the shower, and got under the hot running water. As she exited the shower area, she remembered she hadn’t brought anything down to put on. The thought of putting on her sweat-soaked workout clothes didn’t appeal to her, so she put on one of the long, terrycloth robes they kept down there for just such an occasion.

When she walked into the kitchen, she found that breakfast had already been laid out. A glass of tomato juice, coffee, a large bowl of unsweetened cereal, and two eggs.

“I don’t think I can eat all this!” she exclaimed.

“You will,” said Mark. “Your body needs the fuel. Remember, this was just a light workout; the real workouts come later.”

As she sat, she could feel her muscles tighten. A feeling of lethargy seemed to pull her down into a dark pit. What was she thinking? She would never be able to do this! But she really had to try; she couldn’t give up this easily. What would Mark think of her? The thought of her son as he put her through the paces of the workout gave her that queasy feeling again, and maybe something more. She felt something like an itch between her legs. She crossed her legs and clamped down hard. She knew what she felt wasn’t right, but she was too tired to care, and besides, nobody but herself would know what she was thinking.

When they had finished breakfast, Mark got up and said, “You clean up in here. I want you down in the gym and ready to go in one hour.” With that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

“Who does he think he is?{/i} she thought. “Do I have House Slave written across my back?{/i} She grumbled to herself even as she cleaned up and put away the breakfast dishes.

One hour later, she discovered what Mark had meant by a “real” workout. After stretching, he led her through a series of rigorous exercises, including the stairclimber ― a truly hideous torture device ― weightlifting, and short runs on the treadmill. By the end, her muscles felt like jelly, and she could barely see straight.

Shower, lunch, clean, start again. By the end of the day, she felt like someone had beaten her all over her body. After the dinner dishes were done, it was almost more than she could do to drag herself to bed and cry herself to sleep.

The next four days were a nightmare. She felt like she had died and gone to Hell. Her body was continually in pain. She was so tired she couldn’t even work herself up to a good cry. Through it all, Mark had been relentless. “Move it, you bitch!” “Get your fat ass going, you cow!” Never once did he smile. His only praise was to now and then say, “Not bad for a fat broad.” Oh, how he must hate me, she thought. What did I do to deserve this?

By the end of the last workout on Friday, she could do nothing more than sit in the bottom of the shower stall, crying while the water poured down on her.

It took her a minute to realize that the water had stopped. She looked up to see Mark smiling with a big towel held out for her.

“Mom, you’ve done wonderfully. Come here and get dried off. I have a special surprise for you.”

At first, she could only think to herself, My God, he is seeing me naked! But she was too tired to even work up a concern. She stood up on wobbly legs while he began to towel her dry. When he finished, he draped her in a clean, dry towel and then wrapped her hair in a second towel. He took her hand and led her out of the shower into the changing room.

“Time to weigh in, Mom. Here, step up on the scales.” She noticed that a set of medical scales had been set up. He pulled her over to the scales and had her stand on them. Five pounds! That is all she had lost, just five pounds! Tears started to well up in her eyes.

“I only lost five pounds! Oh, Mark, I can’t do this! All this and only five pounds!” She started to cry and almost fell off the scales.

Mark grabbed her and pulled her to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “No, Mom, this is fantastic! Five pounds is a tremendous amount. This is a great start! I couldn’t be prouder of you!”

She sniffed and looked up at him. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes, I do. Do you realize you have to burn off about thirty-five hundred calories just to lose one pound of fat? That’s one hell of a lot if you think about it, more than twice what you should eat in a normal day. That’s why it’s so damned hard for most people to lose weight and why it takes so long. Nobody said this was going to be easy or quick. Now, come over here. I have a special surprise for you.” He pulled her close again and kissed her forehead, sending a tingle up and down her body. Taking her hand again, he gently pulled her over to a low table that had been set up on the far side of the room. The table was about waist-high and had been draped with towels.

“I borrowed this from the school training room; they said I could use it for the summer. Now, lie down, face down, and let’s see if we can’t help those sore muscles of yours.” He turned her around and unbound the towel. Keeping it wrapped around her, he gently pushed her down onto the table, pulling the towel back and draping it over her so that it covered her buttocks and most of her back.

Oh, this is wonderful, she thought, he’s going to let me sleep for a while. Just as she was drifting off, she felt something wet and warm touch her calf.

“This is called therapeutic massage, Mom. It’s something they teach us in sports medicine. This is warm baby oil; it helps the massage and it’s pretty good for the skin too. Just try to relax; I think you’ll really like this!”

Starting with her foot and slowly working his way up her leg, he gently worked on her cramped muscles, concentrating on those areas where he felt knots and spasms. First one leg, then the other, his kneading fingers worked from the tips of her toes to the top of her thigh just below where the towel started.

Debbie was in heaven. She had never felt anything like this before. As intense as the pain had been, the pleasure was even greater. Half asleep, she felt like every nerve he touched burned with electricity. As he worked up to the top of her other thigh, her legs relaxed on their own, parting slightly. I don’t have any underwear on, she thought; I’ll bet he can see right up to my pussy! I really should do something about that, she thought dreamily. But just as she was beginning to stir, the hands left her thigh and started working on her neck and shoulders. Once he started working the tight knots out of her neck, all thoughts of moving disappeared. He can jump on and fuck me, she thought. I don’t care! Just so he doesn’t stop! Actually, the thought of having him jump on and fucking her brought a little smile to her lips and a little moisture to her vagina. It had been so long, and he was so handsome! What a nice little fantasy!

For his part, Mark couldn’t believe how good it felt to be massaging his mom! He knew he had been hard on her all week. He was determined to be ruthless, and he had been. But he also knew the first couple of weeks had to be the hardest, or they would get nowhere. He knew how good a massage felt on aching muscles, and he wanted to reward his mom for all the hard work she’d put in over the past week.

But he never thought of how good it would feel to him! The warm oil helped his hands glide over her flesh, finding the tense, stiff muscles and kneading out the knots. She was still overweight and looked it, but her skin felt good, and as he worked his way up her legs, they seemed to relax and open all by themselves. He could see her pubic hair under the edge of the towel where her legs met, and after her legs relaxed and parted, he could just barely see a little pink outline of her cunt lips! After finishing her legs, he had a raging hard-on, for his mom yet! As he reached the top of her thighs, she stiffened a little and started to move. He decided he had spent enough time there and started on her neck and shoulders. As soon as he touched her neck, he could feel her let go with a soft sigh and relax completely.

Pushing the towel down her back to just above her buttocks, he began working on her back and arms. Too soon, he was finished.

“Mom,” he said softly, “Mom, it’s time to get up. Here’s a robe. Why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed? I’ll have dinner ready in about half an hour.”

She moaned softly and climbed off the table, keeping her back to him. She stuck her arms into the robe he held for her and dropped the towel. Wrapping the robe around her and with his arms around her middle, he tied the belt. She turned around to face him, still within his arms, and leaned into him.

“That was the most wonderful thing I have ever felt,” she murmured into his chest. “Thank you, Mark.” Her eyes widened a little, and she pushed away. “I’m sorry, I mean Coach.”

“No, Mom,” he smiled, “it’s Mark now. It’s the weekend; I’m only the coach during the week. Your ass is mine during the week, but the weekends are all yours. You worked hard, and you deserve a break.” His smile dropped a little, and the icy glint was back in his eyes, “Within reason, that is, of course.”

“Yes, sir!” she said, that tingle coming back as he spoke. “I’ll just go upstairs and get dressed!” She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. “That was truly the most wonderful feeling I have ever had. When can I have another?”

Taking her hand in his, Mark said, “When you work hard. You earn a massage; it’s not automatic. Hard work, a massage; slack off, nothing.”

“Okay, baby, I understand. I’ll see you at dinner.” She leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. She turned and walked out the door. Mark brought his fingers to his lips. “I wonder what that was all about,” he thought. “Well, it’s nice no matter what.”

Chapter 2

Dinner was pleasant but nothing special. After doing the kitchen cleanup, she didn’t even think about whose job it was anymore; she wandered into the living room and sat down next to Mark on the couch while he watched TV. She curled up with her feet tucked under and dozed leaning against his shoulder. He put his arm around her and they cuddled there on the couch like it was the most natural thing to do.

The rest of the weekend was laundry, housecleaning, and grocery shopping: everything that she couldn’t get done during the week because she was too exhausted to even move. The one exception being that on Saturday night, Mark recommended that they go see a movie as a treat. Debbie thought it was wonderful, except when Mark forbade her from getting butter on the popcorn. The icy glare and the lowered voice, menacing when he said, “No butter, do you think we worked your ass off all week just so you can have butter on your popcorn?”

That look and the voice gave her a shiver she was expecting, with some anticipation if she was honest with herself. The tingle that little bit of domination gave along with a moistening of her vagina caused her to smile at herself. “My God!” she thought. “I feel like I’m dating my son!” They held hands through the entire movie; she hadn’t felt so alive in years!

Monday morning, the regimen started again. The workouts were back, and so was the coach. Mark was just as relentless and just as unforgiving as he had been the week prior. He called her names, smacked her ass when she didn’t move fast enough, and generally drove her as hard as he could. The difference was that now she had a goal other than her weight loss. She knew if she busted her butt, really put forth the effort, she would earn that small part of heaven that a massage gave her. And for the next three days, she sweated and pushed, really driving herself.

At the end of each day, there was Mark holding a towel for her as she left the shower. She didn’t even think about him seeing her naked anymore. It seemed so natural when he wrapped that towel around her and led her to the table where he would take her to nirvana!

Each time they would start the same way. She would lie face down on the table while Mark draped the towel over her buttocks. She could feel the tension and pain seem to ooze out of her pores as he started on her feet and slowly worked his way up to her calf, around the knees, and up to the meaty part of her thighs. By this time, their routine included a number of exercises designed to turn her “butt of flab” into “buns of steel,” and her butt cheeks ached and felt like they consisted of hundreds of tiny knots. She secretly wished he would keep going higher and use those magic fingers to relieve the soreness she felt, but she wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. She came close to begging him to massage her ass; the problem was it wasn’t just her butt that ached. With every caress, every slow kneading of her sore muscles, she could feel the desire build up in the pit of her stomach. Longings so long absent were beginning to resurface. She could feel her pussy first become moist, then wet, and finally it felt like her lubricating juices were flowing out and puddling on the table. When he touched her legs, they would go limp like they had been deboned, and they would spread, not wide enough to make it obvious, but wide enough to offer an unrestricted view of her sex.

All thoughts of modesty had been forgotten long ago. If he wants to see his mom’s old pussy, she thought, then let ‘im, he’s certainly earned it. It can’t be very interesting to him, she mused. He can probably have all the young cunt at school he wants. That thought brought a stabbing flare of jealousy to her stomach!

She was certainly wrong about his interest. Every day, the rush he received from dominating his mother got a little bit better. Each time he yelled at her, smacked her ass, or ordered her around, he felt a surge of excitement. This excitement began to manifest itself as a sexual excitement. He had to keep rigorous control of himself to keep from sporting a hard-on throughout their workout sessions. But when it came to the massage at the end of the day, that was impossible. Almost from the minute his mother lay on the table, his dick was as uncomfortably stiff as a piece of steel, and it remained so until he could get upstairs and jack off before dinner. Although he conscientiously worked over every part of her body, his favorite time was when we worked on her legs.

Almost like magic, her legs would relax and splay open when he began rubbing her feet. As he moved up her calf and toward the thigh, he would be privileged to see her vagina in all its glory. It’s not like she held her legs open for him, but he could see under the towel and view the wisps of soft brown pubic hair and the unbelievably pink slit of her cunt. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. He really wanted to feel her ass in his hands, soothe the still plump globes under his fingers. The rolls of fat were still there, but he could sense the change in her practically day by day. Her legs were becoming firmer; the “wings” under her arms were less pronounced, and as her abdomen tightened, her potbelly seemed to shrink. She still had a long way to go, but he had seen the pictures of her as a younger woman in a slinky one-piece bathing suit. She had been a real knockout and was getting back to there again.

By the second Thursday, Debbie was both physically and mentally exhausted. She could hardly drag herself out of bed that morning and was feeling cross and rebellious. She snapped at him when he corrected her on her technique, slowed down when he told her to keep moving, and smacked her ass. During the morning sessions, he continued with his heavy-handed coaching, seemingly ignoring her outbursts and temper tantrums. By the afternoon session, he became fairly quiet, offering quick, biting critiques of her performance and little more than superficial instruction. His eyes narrowed, and his lips formed a thin, narrow line. If she had looked, she would have been able to see the controlled anger reflected in his eyes. But Debbie was blissfully unaware of this. She became intoxicated with her seeming newfound power and independence. “We’ll see who’s in charge here,” she thought. “I’m the mom, and I’ll do what I want. He’s here to help me. I’m not here to please him,” she smirked.

At the end of the session, Mark left without a word. Debbie finished her stretching and strolled to the shower. She was still tired but nowhere near as exhausted as she normally was; it had been a much easier workout than usual. As the hot water flowed over her, she smiled to herself. She could already feel Mark’s hands on her body, the smell of the warm oil, and the sexual excitement of displaying herself to him. She turned off the water and turned, expecting to see him waiting to wrap her in that big, warm towel. Nobody was there. She looked out in the changing room. It was empty: no Mark, no table!

She started to panic. A little fear crept into her voice as she tremblingly said, “Mark, I mean, Coach? Where are you?” She felt like she had been punched in the pit of her stomach; there was a giant hole there, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

She quickly dried off, threw on a robe, and ran up the stairs and to the kitchen. Mark was finishing putting dinner on the table.

“Mark, honey, what’s wrong?” The words seemed to come out of her as a plaintive wail. There was no reaction from Mark; he acted like she was invisible, a nonentity.

“Please, Mark, I mean Coach, please talk to me! What’s wrong? What have I done? Please say something!” Tears were welling up in her eyes, and a choking sob escaped.

“What’s wrong?” Mark quickly turned towards her, his eyes like burning ice. “What’s wrong? You tell me what’s wrong!”

“I ... I don’t know what you mean,” all her bluster and bravado from earlier evaporated. Mark said nothing as he stared into her eyes and moved closer to her. He stopped when his face was about a foot from hers. This close, she could see the coldness in his eyes, the absolute lack of emotion. She suddenly felt terrified, like a frightened mouse staring into the eyes of a snake that was about to strike. She couldn’t turn away, and she began to tremble.

“I ... I guess I wasn’t very cooperative today. Maybe, that is, maybe I didn’t listen very well, and I suppose I didn’t work as hard as I should have...” Her voice trailed off, and tears started pouring down her cheeks. She started sobbing out loud and uncontrollably. He said nothing, looking at her with that unchanging expression.

“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, Coach! Please give me another chance! I can do better, I will do better! Please give me another chance!” Crying uncontrollably, she reached out and hugged him tightly and slid down to her knees with the side of her face pressed into his groin.

“And if I give you another chance, what will you do to make up for this wasted day?” His voice was impassive, but she could feel his cock start to harden next to her face. She couldn’t believe how big it felt! Her fear was still there like a fist grabbing her in the pit of her stomach, but desire was suddenly a bright flame vying for position along with the fear. “My God!” she thought. “Maybe he’ll make me suck him off!”

Unconsciously, saliva started to flow in her mouth. What would she do if that was what he wanted? She already knew what her answer would be: if that is what he told her to do, she would do it! It was all she could do to stop herself from yanking down his shorts and cramming that monster into her mouth! She wanted her own son to face-fuck her! She wanted to feel him cum in her mouth and taste his juice!

“I’ll do anything! Anything you tell me to! Just please give me another chance!” She hugged him even tighter, forcing her face up against the outline of his stiffening member.

He reached down, grabbing her by her shoulders, and gently but firmly pushed her away from him.

“Very well,” he said. “You will be in the gym at 7:00. We’ll have a special workout to make up for your poor performance today. Now get to the table and eat.”

With an intense sense of relief, she stood up and walked to the table and sat down. She was ecstatic that he was giving her another chance, but she also felt disappointed. She had wanted him to use her! She knew she had turned him on; she had felt that! Why didn’t he take advantage of that chance? She could only believe that he thought she was too old, too fat, and too ugly. She teared at the thought but sat upright in her chair and determined that she would finish this regime. She would lose this weight, she would become someone her son could be proud of, someone he could desire!

They finished dinner in silence. Afterwards, while Debbie was cleaning up, Mark went downstairs to the gym.

At 7:00, Debbie entered the gym. Mark was standing in his normal position. He looked at her and smiled; it was not a kind smile. Debbie cringed, and a slight shudder went through her body. “Stretch,” was all he said.

Debbie started her stretching exercises, trying to do them as perfectly as she knew how. When she had finished, he pointed to the stair machine. Her heart sank. Of all the routines they employed, the stair machine was the worst.

Designed to simulate climbing a flight of stairs, the machine could be set for different velocities and levels of resistance. The worst feature was that if the user didn’t keep up with the set speed, a buzzer sounded, letting everybody know you were falling behind. Whenever Debbie used it before and slowed down, the buzzer would sound, and Mark would give her a sharp smack on the butt. It was designed to work the calves, thighs, and butt muscles; it hurt worse than anything else in the gym. Well, I guess I deserve this, she thought as she tentatively approached the machine.

“Take off your top,” said Mark.

“What?” Debbie was more than a little surprised.

“I said take off your top, do it now!”

Debbie blushed hotly. This must be part of the punishment, she thought. Humiliating me by making me exercise half-naked in front of him! Well, we’ll see about that! I don’t care if he sees my breasts; in fact, I want him to. She reached down and pulled the top off in one motion.

As the top came over her head, her mammoth breasts swung free. Debbie had always been proud of her breasts, and in her overweight condition, they had become truly gigantic but with surprisingly little sag or droop. She pushed her shoulders back, making them jut out even farther. Let him see them, she thought, let him get an eyeful!

Impassively, he pointed to the machine, and she stepped onto the pedals.

“Grab the bar,” he said. She reached forward and grasped the twin handles attached to the frame just under the display.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a metallic object. Before she could react, he snapped the handcuff on one of her wrists, fed it around the bar, and grabbing her other wrist, snapped the second one on. She was now tied to the machine!

“What are you doing!” she shouted. “Where did you get those?”

“Just a little souvenir from my time in the police explorer scouts.” Then he smiled wickedly, “I thought since you have had a little problem with your attitude, you might need some encouragement tonight.”

“Oh yes, we have one more motivational device here.” Hanging from his hand was a jack with two wires coming out of it. Attached to the ends of the wires were small alligator clips. “I was thinking that you probably will have trouble keeping up tonight, and I don’t want to hurt my hand smacking you all night, so I thought this might help.”

He plugged the jack into a hole labeled “External Horn.” Taking one of the clips in one hand, he grabbed her left breast with the other. Pulling on the breast, he attached the clip to her nipple.

Debbie started crying.

“Shut up, bitch, this will only sting for a while, and if you keep up, you won’t have any problems.”

He walked around to the other side of the machine and attached the other clip to her right nipple.

“It hurts! Please take them off,” Debbie cried. It didn’t hurt; in fact, it felt rather nice. No one had squeezed or pinched her nipples for a long time. She didn’t want him to know that, though. She felt humiliated, like she was some kind of animal being trained for tricks in the circus.

“No, I think we’ll keep these on for tonight. But now I think you need a little demonstration.” He reached toward the display and set the level at 2. He then placed his finger on the horn on/off switch. He looked into her eyes and pushed the button.

Normally, with the level set on 2 and the pedals not moving, the buzzer would sound. However, with a jack in the external horn slot, the impulse that would normally activate the buzzer was rerouted through the wires and clips attached to her breasts. She felt like two small animals were biting her nipples hard! The pain was intense and continued.

“Oh God! Make it stop!” she wailed.

“Simple enough,” he said, “just start climbing.”

She began to furiously pump in the pedals. When she reached the preset level, the pain stopped. She sobbed softly but kept pumping.

“This seems to be working just like I thought it would,” Mark stated. “Maybe we should use them more often.” Still sobbing, Debbie hung her head down and swung it from side to side, mouthing the word “no”.

After five minutes, Mark silently increased the level to 3. Debbie struggled to keep up with the machine. Twice, she slowed down and was shocked into speeding up.

Again, Mark increased the level. Now her legs and butt were on fire; the pain was like nothing she had ever felt before. It was as if all her previous workouts were just warm-ups for this one. Finally, her legs started giving out, and she was getting shocked almost continuously. Just when she thought she was going to die, Mark thumbed the horn off.

“You may stop now,” he said. He reached for the clips on her nipples and gently took them off. He then held her breasts, one in each hand, and softly rubbed her swollen nipples. After the torture they had received, the gentle touch almost made her cum.

“These are far too precious to be treated this way,” he said softly. “Let’s try not to let this happen again.” Even with her painfully cramped legs, the soft caresses fired a desire in Debbie that almost took her breath away.

“I’ll be good,” she whispered, “I’ll try my best and never talk back again.”

“Very good,” he released her breasts, which brought a whimper from Debbie, and reaching into his pocket, retrieved a small key. He took the key and deftly unlocked the handcuffs.

“I will see you here in the morning, regular time.” Having said that, Mark turned and walked out the door.

Debbie gathered herself and, after her shower, crawled into bed. As she fell asleep, she couldn’t help but remember, not the pain or the soreness, but the gentle hands cupping her breasts and softly massaging her sore nipples.

---

Debbie hurried into the gym at exactly 6:00 a.m. She was apprehensive, wondering how Mark would act given her performance yesterday and subsequent “extra training.” She saw him standing in exactly the same spot he always did, looking at her in exactly the same manner. She could feel her nipples tighten up with anticipation as she remembered the gentle caress of his strong hands on her breasts the night before.

“Good morning,” he said. “Let’s begin with our stretching.”

Something has changed, she thought. The tone of voice was the same as was the glint in the eyes, but there was a subtle difference she couldn’t quite pin down. Then it came to her. He had never said “good morning” before; it had always been “Stretch” or “Begin now,” but never a pleasantry or a welcome. She flushed with pleasure. He cares! He really cares about me! Yes, he cuffed her to that machine, and yes, the electrical shocks to her tits had been very painful, but she had deserved it, hadn’t she? Yes, she had, and she resolved to do the very best that she could today!

Stretching was pure torture. Her legs and butt felt as if someone were stabbing her with a knife every time she moved. But by the end of the stretching routine, the pain had subsided to a dull ache, and she was ready to begin her workout.

To her surprise, the day proceeded as if nothing had happened the night before. She diligently worked at her exercises, pushing just a little farther than she had ever done before. Mark, for his part, still yelled when she seemed to falter and swatted her a couple of times, but actually found cause to praise her when it was obvious she was pushing herself to the limit.

Hot water from the shower splashed into her face and cascaded down her body. She felt like a rag doll. Her muscles felt tired and loose, but she didn’t feel quite the same amount of pain that she had felt the week before. Shutting off the shower, she pushed wet hair away from her face and wrung out the excess water. Turning toward the changing room, her heart leapt to her throat. Mark was standing in the doorway with a huge towel spread ready to wrap around her. She ran over to him and threw her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder softly sobbing. Tenderly, he wrapped the towel around her and started to dry her off.

“Shhhh,” he whispered, “everything’s okay, Mom. You did great this week. Let’s weigh in, and if you’d like, I’ll give you a massage.”

“Oh yes, Coach! That would be wonderful! I love when you do that; it makes me feel so good.”

“Not Coach, Mom, it’s the weekend; just call me Mark now.” He led her over to the scales, still toweling her dry. Wrapping the towel around herself and holding it in place, she stepped onto the scale.

“Another five pounds, Mom! That’s great; you are really losing it fast! Ten pounds in two weeks is really something! Now we can’t expect to do this every week, but damn, you’ve had a great start!” He had a huge grin on his face. He led her over to the massage table and helped her up again, taking care to drape the towel over her buttocks.

As she lay down, she issued a little sigh of relief. In fact, she thought to herself, if I was any more contented, I’d purr like a kitten. The pleasant feeling of lying down and letting her muscles relax was suddenly eclipsed by the surge of sensual pleasure as Mark dripped the warm oil on her skin and started to rub her feet and legs.

“Oh God, honey, that feels so good!” she groaned as he kneaded and soothed her abused muscles. “Don’t stop, never stop! This is what I dream about every day! I don’t think I could stand it if you ever stopped.”

“I won’t, Mom. I’m here for you. Whenever you need me, I’m here for you.”

Mark couldn’t believe the change in his mom over just the past two weeks. The tone and definition in her muscles was nothing short of miraculous. The saddlebags on her thighs were going away, and the cellulite was slowly disappearing. She still had a ways to go, but he could see the form of a beautiful woman starting to take shape within the pile of flab that had been there. He smiled to think that he was helping to draw that beauty out from the prison of fat.

As he reached the top of her thighs and prepared to start working on her upper torso, he heard her say, “No, please don’t stop there. Please do my butt cheeks. They hurt so badly. I need you to do them, too.”

“Sure thing, Mom. Anything you want.” He gently pushed the towel draped over her ass up till her whole bottom was exposed. He dripped the warm baby oil over her cheeks and set the bottle down next to the table. Starting with the left cheek, he began to slowly, but firmly, knead the rounded globes. He could feel the tenseness leave her muscles as he deftly worked them over.

“Ohhh, ahhhh...” small, incoherent sounds escaped Debbie’s mouth as her son rubbed and prodded her sore butt and lower back. A wonderful glow seemed to be emanating from her groin, spreading warmth throughout her whole body. She knew that right then she could be had for a song, maybe even a short whistle. She felt as relaxed as she ever had in her life. Not only that, but she felt wanted, cared for, yes, even loved.

She turned her head slightly, enough that she could see Mark through lowered lids. She couldn’t believe that this gorgeous, self-possessed, and dominant man was taking care of her. She wasn’t sure exactly when she had stopped thinking of him as a boy, or her son, but as a man, but there was no doubt that he was. He was the boss stud in the pasture, and she was just his mare. Her fantasies took off with her. I’m his mare, she thought, I wonder if he’ll breed me?

Her eyes glided down over Mark’s shirt-covered chest to his narrow waist and down to the front of his shorts. She let out a small gasp. The bulge in the front of his tight shorts was gigantic! It looked like he had stuffed a banana in his pants! My God, her head was swimming, he’s huge! Not only is he the boss stud, he must be hung like a horse! There could be no doubt: If his mind didn’t want to breed her, his body certainly did! If she hadn’t been so relaxed and almost half-asleep, she wasn’t sure she could have helped but reach out and grab his member.

Maybe, she dreamed, maybe when I get skinny again, maybe he’ll want me. It was a horrible thought; her conscience screamed, how could you even think of this! He’s your son! But as she gazed at the swelling in his pants, she knew that just like a stiff dick has no conscience that stiff dick would destroy any conscience she might have. Ah well ... maybe when I’m skinny.

As he finished with her back and arms, Mark bent down and kissed the back of his mother’s neck. He had to be careful that he didn’t rub up against her. He had a raging hard-on and was so stiff it almost hurt! He couldn’t let her see how turned on he was by this; the embarrassment alone would kill him. Worse than that, she might stop the massages and the workouts altogether. That is something he couldn’t tolerate!

“Mom, why don’t you rest here for a while? I’ll go get dinner ready. Is that okay?”

“Yes, dear, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” she murmured.

She heard him walk up the steps and close the basement door. Stretching like a cat getting up from a nap, she rolled onto her side. Her vagina felt like it was on fire! Slowly, she let her hands move down her front, pausing briefly to cup her breasts and pinch her nipples. Both nipples were fully erect, engorged with blood. The feeling as she pinched and rolled them was like little electric shocks, not pain like there had been on the stair machine but more like electric sparks that shot through her body straight to her groin. She continued down over her stomach until her fingers brushed her downy brown pubic hair. Moving farther down to the top of her slit, she pressed two fingers into herself until she felt the little nub of her clit. She started gently rubbing herself while waves of pleasure washed through her body.

“Mark, oh, Mark,” she softly murmured, “you should be here, you should be doing this.” Without conscious effort, she rolled onto her back and spread her legs wide apart. She rubbed harder as she felt the moisture of her cunt turn to wetness and then liquid as her juice leaked down into her ass crack and over her anus. She imagined Mark towering over her, his rigid cock poised to impale her. She could see him bend down, placing the head of his turgid member at the entrance of her pussy, then begin to slowly push it into her. Inch by inch, she could almost feel him fill her desperately aching cavity.

“Yes, my stallion, yes, my stud!” she whispered, “take me, breed me. I am yours, I am yours forever!”

The orgasm hit her like a hammer. Her back arched off the table as her fingers squeezed and pinched the nub of her clitoris. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through her. She stuck her other hand in her mouth and bit down to keep from screaming.

Finally, it was over. She lay on the table, sweating and breathing laboriously. It had been the most intense orgasm she had in years, maybe in her entire life! She couldn’t believe how good it felt or the intense pleasure of being taken and used by the virile male animal Mark had become in her imagination. It had been so realistic that it shocked and excited her. She wanted Mark to fuck her! She wanted her son to mount her, stick his dick in her, and fuck her until she couldn’t cross her legs for days! There was no revulsion at the thought, just euphoria!

She slowly sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the table. Getting up on wobbly legs, she took a quick shower to wash off the sweat and sex. After rinsing, she toweled dry, wrapped up in a robe, and went upstairs to dress for dinner.

Mark had prepared an especially nice dinner and even set out a glass of wine for her, a special treat since alcohol was not on her permitted diet. She couldn’t believe how good simple, wholesome food tasted. She was learning to eat right, eat until full, and then stop. The amazing thing to her was that she really wasn’t hungry all the time like she used to be. Things were definitely changing for the better.

After cleaning up the dinner dishes, she strolled into the living room where Mark was watching TV and again curled up next to him. Putting her head on his shoulder, his arms naturally circled around her and pulled her into him. She drowsily watched the shows with him while absently caressing his stomach with her hand. After a while, she noticed the bulge in his shorts begin to get larger. At the same time, his arm pulled her in a little tighter, his hand dropping down off her shoulder to her body just under her arm, inches away from her breast. She really wanted him to go all the way, cup, and caress her breast, but she was too tired to do much more than coo gently into his shoulder. She knew one thing: her dreams would be very pleasant that night, filled with stallions running around in meadows chasing chubby brown-haired mares.

Chapter 3

The next two weeks flew by. The workouts became a grinding routine, but each day Debbie could tell she was improving. Her clothes fit better and then became loose. Jeans she hadn’t worn for years suddenly had increased in size and became wearable. She was still tired at the end of the day but no longer in the intense pain the earlier workouts had caused. She could lift more, run farther, climb faster, but best of all, her weight loss continued. She was now down about another ten pounds and getting fairly near to her original goal, but she was losing interest in pounds as numbers. Now she was more interested in fat and where it resided on her body. Her legs were actually looking sleek, her tummy flat with just a hint of puffiness. Her arms lost their “wings” and began to show real muscle definition, the face slimmed down, and her bottom was beginning to be “softly rounded” rather than a squishy chunk.

The workouts changed also: less intensity with more endurance and strength training. Mark finally recommended that they shift their afternoon workouts outside, where they would bike, run, or swim. Debbie felt wonderful to be outside. She could actually appear in public in a bathing suit without dying of embarrassment and had more energy than she had in years. While they still spent time at home watching TV, cuddled up on the couch, they also went out to concerts, movies, and the theater. She enjoyed herself more than she could remember ever having enjoyed herself.

The one thing Debbie refused to change was the massages. When one day Mark politely asked her if she still felt she needed them, she practically broke down and cried, begging him not to take them away from her. He agreed, telling her he didn’t want to stop but thought she should have the choice. She told him not only were they still needed because of their physically healing properties but for the emotional release she felt because it was him giving them to her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and solemnly told her he would give her massages for as long as she wanted him to, forever if that is what she wanted.

As her body became accustomed to the constant exercise and the muscle pain gave way to a feeling of exhilaration and health, the massages were needed less for physical recuperation and renewal and became a sensual experience, a bonding between mother and son. It was more of a courtship ritual than physical therapy.

As her weight loss progressed, Debbie’s self-esteem and body awareness increased. She was no longer ashamed of herself. She knew she still wanted and needed to lose more weight, but the changes already evident were substantial and difficult to ignore. She began to intentionally, although obtrusively, tease Mark with glimpses of her body.

At the end of the fifth week, Mark had finished massaging her legs and had started working on her ass and lower back. He kept moving and re-draping the towel over her as he worked his way up her body. Suddenly, she reached back, grabbed the towel, and flung it to the floor.

“This is silly,” she said. “You’ve seen my ugly old butt enough to know what’s there. There’s no need to mess with this any longer!”

“That’s okay by me, Mom, but you’re wrong about one thing: You do not have an ‘ugly old butt.’” He continued working his hands up and down her spine, kneading her shoulders and neck, then moving down again to manipulate what were becoming very taut buttocks muscles. “I don’t know if I have told you enough times, but you have done a wonderful job. I am so proud of what you’ve accomplished and what you’re still trying to do.” Then he blurted out, “I’m sorry if this makes you feel uncomfortable, but you are a very beautiful and sexy woman. I never realized just how beautiful you were, and I’m so glad you decided to allow that beauty to come out again.”

“Honey, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable hearing you say that. You’ve been wonderful to me. I know you care for me and love me. Hearing you say this makes all this work worthwhile.”

Actually hearing him tell her she was beautiful and sexy did make her uncomfortable, but not in the way he’d meant it. Hearing him praise her looks and acknowledge her hard work effused her whole body with such a warmth and sense of well-being that she would have sworn she was glowing! But it also stoked her desire, already at fever level, to new heights. During their sessions, she looked for and was always rewarded with a view of his raging erection. She knew he must be taking care of himself after each massage was finished, just as she did each day when he went upstairs.

She thought it was so unfair that each of them had these burning desires and couldn’t take care of them in a mutually satisfactory manner. Although she couldn’t quite bring herself to initiate anything, it didn’t stop her from teasing him unmercifully. While he was massaging her, she would unobtrusively let her legs spread apart, giving him a full and unfettered view of her pussy. She had even started to shave and trim her pubic hair, leaving little more than a soft, downy fur patch. Not enough so it could be called bare but enough to allow a full, unhindered view if he wanted.

With her newfound self-assurance, she began to dress more provocatively. Around the house, she would wear tight short-shorts and tank tops or tube tops with no bra. Her new workout clothes were tight spandex body stockings and a brief sports bra. The effect was to emphasize her body’s sexiness even more than nudity would. She was sure it was having an effect on her son, and it thrilled her.

To say she was having an impact on Mark was an understatement. He knew he was attracted to her even when she was still heavily overweight: his raging erections during their massage sessions made that painfully obvious. But he found as the weeks went by that it wasn’t just during these sessions. He could understand that handling a nude woman, seeing her pussy, ass, and tits would turn him on, but it was becoming an almost constant problem now. When they cuddled up on the couch and she stroked his side or abdomen, he could feel her heat next to him. When he had his arm around her, it was all he could do not to reach down and cup that gorgeous breast only inches away from his hand.

Then the times they would be in the kitchen or doing laundry, she would bend over and unconsciously display herself to him. Or was it unconsciously? He could never be sure. All he knew was that he found himself masturbating four of five times a day, and it was his mother he was fantasizing about when he did. He was finding it very difficult, if not impossible, to remain aloof during their training sessions. He didn’t know how she could remain oblivious to his erection; he felt like he was walking around with a permanent hard-on, but since she didn’t mention anything about it, he was afraid to do anything that would bring it to her attention.

He did decide to try fighting fire with fire. Football season was just around the bend, and he knew he needed to get serious about his own workout program. Debbie had progressed far enough that she no longer needed constant supervision during her sessions in the gym. He thought this would be a good time for him to get his own workouts done. So when she would start on one station, he would work on another. With the walls being mirrored, it was easy for each of them to see the other while they worked on their own exercises.

While he had been supervising Debbie’s training, Mark had always worn a loose-fitting T-shirt and coach’s pants. This changed when he started his own workouts. He almost never wore a shirt, and his workout shorts were tight, stretchy, and brief. It didn’t take long into a workout before he was covered with a sheen of sweat, almost like he was oiled, and his muscles were bulging with effort.

The effect on Debbie was dramatic. The sight of her perfectly proportioned son going through his paces was almost more than she could stand. During their gym workouts, she could hardly keep her eyes off him. As she ran on the treadmill, she could see him behind her on the bench press or curling, his chest expanding, muscles bulging to the extent they seemed to be about to break out of his skin. She felt like a bitch in heat. She couldn’t masturbate enough to relieve the burning desire that ached almost like a physical pain.

Even when they spent their afternoons out, she couldn’t get enough of him. She would watch him swimming laps in the pool after she had finished or as he continued around the track after she had run her three or four miles. Jealousy would flare into almost hate when pretty young girls would come over to him at the poolside or at the water fountain on the bike trails. She felt extremely possessive and wanted to dig her nails into every one of the little bitches who flaunted their tits or asses at him. The fact that he didn’t seem to pay them much attention did temper her jealousy, but she was quick to latch onto his arm and snuggle up next to him as soon as she could. He was her stud, and no other little filly in heat was going to take the place of the number one mare in this pasture!

She was concentrating on her son so much that she was totally oblivious to the looks other men were giving her. Even those that were brave enough to approach her were politely brushed aside; they didn’t interest her at all.

By the end of the sixth week, the sexual tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Mark was working out as hard as he could, almost overworking, just to control his desires. He was in a state of constant arousal and losing sleep to the erotic dreams that filled his nights. Debbie prowled around the house trying to find something that would take her mind off her son and that devastating package he kept in his pants. Every time they touched or even looked at each other, it was as if electric sparks were jumping between them. This couldn’t go on much longer, and it didn’t.

It had been raining on the Friday of the sixth week. Since there was no place to go outside, they decided to complete their final workout of the week in the basement gym. Both found it impossible to keep their eyes off each other. When Debbie looked over at Mark, she would catch him staring at her, then both would quickly look away. When Mark tried to sneak a peek at his mom, she seemed to be already looking at him, and he would blush and quickly avert his eyes. They both worked especially hard trying to keep their minds on what they were doing. When they finished, they were both tired and sweaty.

“I’ll take a quick shower and get ready for your massage, Mom.” He tried not to look at her as he picked up his gear and almost ran for the changing room.

“I’ll be right there,” Debbie said to his back as he left the room.

Slowly, she finished her stretching and started to peel her workout clothes off as she walked toward the showers. Dropping her sweaty togs in the laundry hamper, she moved toward the shower with just a towel in her hand.

As she approached the shower, she heard water running and stepped into the stall. The shower was very large, 5 by 7 with two showerheads and built-in benches along the sides where one could sit and still be under the running water. Mark had his back to her as she entered. The breath caught in her throat. His back was the shape of an inverted pyramid: wide, tanned shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. His butt was stark white in contrast to his golden skin. Legs long and muscular met at a cute, perfectly defined ass. He looked like a Greek god to her. He had his hands in front of him, and it looked like he was trying to pump something in front of him.

He heard her and looked back over his shoulder. He gave a little gasp and tried to turn even farther around towards the wall.

“Mom! I’m sorry! I couldn’t help myself.” His eyes looked to be filled with tears. “I can’t help it! It hurts so much!”

Debbie’s brain waves flat-lined. All she could see was her stud, her stallion, her man, and he needed relief. There was no hesitation, no thinking about it. She dropped the towel and slowly walked over to him. When she was about two feet away, she reached out and touched his shoulder, turning him around until they stood face to face. He had both hands over his groin in a vain attempt to cover his raging erection.

She placed her other hand on his other shoulder and started to bring both hands down across his chest toward his groin. As her hands descended, she slowly sank to her knees. Once on her knees in front of him, she gently grabbed his hands and pulled them apart and away from his cock. His member stood out and slightly up, stiff as a piece of steel. It was eight inches long and perfectly proportioned for its length. Her eyes glazed over as she released his hands and slowly moved to grasp the object of her desire. As she firmly grasped his cock in one hand, she was only slightly aware of the warm water cascading over them. His prick glistened wetly, and there was a small white drop oozing out of his piss hole. Like a mouse watching for the snake to strike, her eyes were riveted to his pulsing manhood. It felt like a velvet-wrapped steel rod as she slowly moved her hand up and down the shaft. Without conscious thought, she stopped jacking him, tightened her hold, and brought her lips to the bulging head.

She could feel a shudder passing through his body as the head pressed past her lips. Wrapping them around the shaft, she gently sucked on him, drawing him further into her mouth. She could only get about half of him in, so as she gently sucked on his cock, her hand firmly but slowly moved up and down the exposed portion of his shaft.

Mark’s mind was as blank as his mother’s. At first, he thought he was going to die of embarrassment when she caught him jacking off in the shower. He normally would have waited until he got to his room to relieve himself, but the need became almost painful after the workout. He had turned toward the wall, hoping against hope that she had not seen what he was doing. When he felt her touch his shoulder and gently turn him around, he almost ran from the room. As he turned and saw her, he froze like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck. Here was the most beautiful woman he could imagine, water cascading off her like some mythical nymph.

His heart began to pound when she started to run her hands over his chest and then slowly sank to her knees. Without conscious volition, his hands were moved back away from his prick. He could do nothing but stare as she reached out and grasped him firmly in her hand. The feeling was indescribable. He had masturbated himself hundreds of times; that was nothing like having his mother’s gentle hand firmly wrapped around him.

He almost passed out when she leaned forward and gently sucked him into her mouth. As she sucked on him and gently jacked his shaft, he could feel the orgasm building in his balls. He had been ready to cum just before she entered the shower, and now it was impossible to stop. He wanted to warn her, stop her before he spewed in her mouth. He knew she wouldn’t want his stuff in her mouth, but he couldn’t move his hands to stop her.

“Ohhhh, Mom! Ohhh, I’m going to cum, I can’t stop it!” he cried.

She began to suck harder, jacking faster with the hand on his shaft and reaching around to grab his ass with the other, pulling him into her as tightly as she could.

She could feel him start to cum almost as soon as he did. In her mouth, his shaft and head seemed to expand and harden. Suddenly, he shuddered and erupted, spewing globs of sperm and semen into her mouth and down the back of her throat. She swallowed as he came, drinking his juice like a she-bear going after honey. When he finally stopped, she let him slip out of her mouth, where she began to lick him clean.

Mark stared down at his mother, still licking his already clean dick. Suddenly, something clicked in him: he was no longer seeing his mother; he was looking at his woman. His to hold, to care for, to protect, and yes, to service.

Bending down, he slid his arms under hers and lifted her up and into him. He bent his head down and kissed her lips fiercely, crushing her to him in a rib-bruising embrace. Without a word, he released her with one arm and, with his other arm still around her back, bent down, placed his free arm behind her knees, and picked her up. She felt light as a feather to him. She leaned her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her out and into the changing room.

They dripped water as he carried her over to the table he had set up earlier. Her eyes were closed, and her breath shallow as he laid her on the table. He gently disentangled her arms from his by grasping her wrists and bringing them back to her shoulders. When the heat of his body left, she was instantly afraid he was leaving her, and her eyes opened wide and struggled to hold onto him. He easily kept her arms pinned at her shoulders as he bent to give her a long, deep kiss on the lips. She relaxed, returning his kiss with increasing ardor. His tongue gently parted her lips and tentatively played along her teeth. As she opened her mouth to his probe, his tongue delved deeper until it touched her tongue. They caressed each other with gentle probing, their tongues entwined.

After a while, he withdrew from her mouth, lifted his head, and gently kissed both her eyelids. He again softly kissed her mouth and then worked his way down the side of her neck, leaving soft kisses as he went. She cooed as he continued down to her breast and circumnavigated the nipple with his feather-light touches. Finally, he opened his mouth and gently sucked her nipple in. He began to lightly bite her nipple, catching it between his teeth, pulling on it, releasing, and sucking it back into his mouth. She was on fire, and her coos became moans. Taking her now-free hands, she placed them on the back of his head and pulled him into her, trying to force as much of her breast into his mouth as she could. Breaking contact with that breast, he moved to the other, where he repeated the process.

Her breath was coming short and sharp, her heart pounding. There was no conscious thought at all, only emotion, the need to breed, to mate, to be taken by the male. Fire coursed through her veins. She was nothing more than a bionic sex machine. There was only one thing she wanted, one thing she was designed for, and that was the only thing that mattered.

He released her nipple and moved down her stomach, stopping briefly to plunge his tongue into her navel. Keeping his hands on her at all times, he moved to the end of the table, where he grabbed her legs behind the knees, lifted, and spread her. She was displayed to him in all her glory. Her small patch of downy pubic hair, labia slightly parted, and glistening wet. The aroma of aroused woman hit him like a hammer to the head. His penis, slightly softened after his first ejaculation, now became fully erect and rock hard. He slowly dropped his head and, sticking his tongue out lightly, touched the wet lips of her slit.

The instant he touched her, Debbie erupted with an orgasm. She screamed, grabbed his hair, and tried to force him back into the channel from which he came so many years before. As her orgasm subsided and she relaxed her hold, he stuck his tongue into the fold between her lips and ran it up and over the small nub nestled there. Her second orgasm hit even harder than the first. She squeezed his head with her thighs until he thought his head was going to pop. Hardly able to breathe, he kept his tongue sliding up and down her slit even as she shook and shuddered beneath him. All at once, her legs relaxed, and her hands dropped off his head. He withdrew his tongue, lifted his head, and climbed onto the table between her legs.

Her second, or was it third, orgasm blinded Debbie to anything outside her own body. The waves of intense pleasure were so acute as to be almost painful. As those feelings subsided, she could open her eyes and look up. She saw her son between her legs, rising up just as he had in her fantasy. His golden body placed between her splayed legs, his mammoth prick inches away from her cunt. He leaned forward, looking her directly in the eyes, both hands placed on the table to either side of her. His mouth came down to rest on hers, the smell of pussy heavy on his breath. He broke contact and rose up slightly, moving his hips forward as he did. The head of his prick touched the lips of her cunt lightly, and then he stopped. The look he gave her was one of asking permission, although his eyes said he fully expected to receive it. She smiled at him and raised her legs, placing her heels on his ass cheeks. She then started to draw him into her body.

Speaking the first words since entering the shower, she said, “Take me, my stallion. Take me now! I am yours.”

Without a word, he moved his hips forward slowly, pushing the head of his prick into her. He withdrew until he was almost out and pushed forward again. Again and again, he pushed in and pulled back, each time another fraction of an inch of his cock sank further into her body.

To Debbie, it felt like she was being slowly impaled by a telephone pole. The heat produced by his slow, deliberate fucking was driving her out of her mind. Her heels were pounding on his ass, trying to drive him into her faster and further. Finally, he hit bottom. With his balls resting on her ass, she squeezed him as tightly as she could, trying to hold him inside. After a moment, she relaxed slightly, and he pulled back until just the head of his prick was still in her. Barely stopping, he plunged back into her until she was again fully impaled. Again, he withdrew and plunged back in. Then he began to fuck her hard and deep. She thought she had died and gone to heaven! It was better than her fantasy, better than anything she had ever had. Her husband had never fucked her like this. She couldn’t believe what he was doing to her. She had created the perfect man, and he was taking her now!

His mother’s cunt felt like a vise made of butter. Mark wasn’t thinking; his hindbrain had taken over. He was an animal breeding his mate, fucking his woman. He pounded her hard and fast, each lunge shaking the table beneath them. His mother was screaming incoherently, wordless sounds, meaningless except to convey her intense pleasure. He again felt the pressure building in his balls, that pressure urging him on faster and faster until he felt as if his hips were a blur as he pistoned in and out of her. Finally, the pressure built to where he thought he would explode, and he did. He rammed into her one last time, holding himself there while he spewed his sperm into her waiting womb. He could feel each and every ejaculation as it left his balls and traveled down his cock into his mother’s belly. After he was done, he collapsed onto her, just barely holding himself up enough so as not to crush her.