Busty Mom and The Bullies Bk. 02 Ch. 06

"Put that dick away, Elliott. I don't want that little pea-shooter aimed at me while we're having our lesson," Elliott heard Jamal say and turned to see the young black man standing next him. Jamal nodded to Elliott's crotch, where his hand was still wrapped around his spent member.

In the flurry of activity, Elliott had been struck dumb by the various emotions that had overwhelmed him. When Jamal had started fucking his mother's tits, Elliott had come faster than he'd expected. The blatant way his bully had used his mother's body for his own perverse desires had struck Elliott with a testosterone jolt as well. His own dick had been hard as rock as he'd watched Jamal slide his massive prick up and down between his mother's voluptuous breasts, the teasing channel between her tits made slippery and illicitly erotic by a shiny coating of her own spit. Elliott's prick had responded by throbbing with need, and he'd beat it mercilessly until he'd spewed that milky load into the glass. And then his mother drank it down—no—she gulped it down. Her desire for cum apparently knew no bounds. She was as happy swallowing her own son's cum as she was from the three bigger boys. It had all been too much for Elliott, and he'd sat there in a daze, until Jamal's words broke him out of his trancelike state.

"Oh, uh, sorry," Elliott said as he quickly stuffed his softening dick into his pants and zipped up.

Jamal pulled out a chair at the table and sat next to Elliott. Being this close to the big black youth made Elliott realize how small he really was. "Like I said, you and I are gonna help each other out here," Jamal said. He nodded towards the books on the table. "I need some help with that shit we're doing in English, and you need help understanding your way around tits and pussy, right?"

Elliott felt himself flushing, but he nodded nonetheless.

"Good," Jamal continued. "Now, what is that ancient Greek shit the teacher wants us to read, 'Oedipus the King', or some such shit?"

"Uh, it's actually called 'Oedipus Rex', but that does mean Oedipus the King, yes."

"And this Oedipus dude, he's the one that wants to be a motherfucker, right?"

Elliott couldn't help the smile that came over his face. "Well, yes," he replied with a nod.

Jamal grinned broadly, his pearly whites beaming like a toothpaste commercial. "That is kind of appropriate, based on what's happening in this very house, don't you think?" Again, Elliott could only nod in agreement. "Yes, but in your case, he should be called 'Eat-a-puss the King'. Yeah, that seems right, because between us and your mama, we're going to keep you busy enough slurping at that cum-filled pussy of hers that you'll definitely be the king pussy eater."

EEN-EE...EEN-EE...

They both looked up as that tell-tale noise of the creaking bed came down to them from upstairs. It was quickly followed by a steady thumping that filtered rhythmically through the floor.

"Yeah, they're gonna be keeping her busy for a while, so let's get down to it," Jamal said as he sat forward and pointed to the books. "Teach me some shit so the teacher doesn't think I'm such a dumbass all the time."

Elliott opened his books and started talking. Jamal listened intently, and Elliott was surprised by how quickly the boy picked up on some concepts, and how insightful and pertinent the questions he asked were. And as the lesson moved along, the incessant squeaking and rhythmic thumping from above continued. About a half-hour into the lesson, the noise stopped, but resumed less than a minute or two later. Elliott realized they must have just changed positions, and he wondered who was using which hole of his mother's now.

About fifteen minutes after that, the bedroom door opened and Zeke came down, dressed only in his jeans. The bed continued to squeak in protest as Zeke came down the stairs, and Elliott knew Gunner was still pounding it into his mother.

"You're up," Zeke said to Jamal as he pointed up the stairs over his shoulder. "Fuck, that woman loves cock. I don't think she'll ever get enough."

"Well, we'll try our best, won't we?" Jamal said as he got up from the table and gave his friend a fist-bump. He turned to Elliott and gestured to the books. "We'll continue with shit tomorrow. You did good, Elliott. Real good. See if you can do the same with this dipshit."

Elliott was thrilled by Jamal's words of praise. Based on what the young man had promised him about being able to eat out his mother, he definitely wanted to keep on his good side. And it wasn't just his words of praise that made Elliott glad, he was happy to have heard Jamal actually call him by his real name, which he usually held in check for only when Elliott's mother was around. No 'Smelliott', no 'Smallcox' this time, just 'Elliott'.

Jamal bounded up the stairs and into the master bedroom as Zeke crossed behind Elliott and made his way to the fridge. "Yeah, I'm gonna need one of these to keep up with that mother of yours," he said as he pulled out a can of Red Bull and came back to the table. As he sat next to Elliott in the seat Jamal had vacated, Elliott saw the fine sheen of perspiration on the boy's muscular chest, and he could definitely detect the smell of sex coming from his body. It was an intoxicating combination of the three Cs: cock, cunt, and cum. If he could smell that coming off of Zeke, he wondered what his mother's room smelled like. Probably like a cheap whorehouse. Just the thought of that had Elliott's perverse mind spinning.

"Yeah, math," Zeke said after popping open his can and taking a big gulp. "I've always sucked at math. And my mother'll kick my ass if I don't even get a fifty. Do you think you can give me a hand?"

Elliott shrugged and reached for his books. "Uh, sure. Let's give it a shot." As he opened his math book, the sounds coming from above seemed to change in volume slightly, the squeaking and thumping getting louder, as if someone had turned the knob up a notch or two. The change caused Elliott to instinctively look up at the bedroom floor above him.

EEN-EE...EEN-EE...THUMP...THUMP...THUMP...

"Don't worry about that," Zeke said. "That's just Jamal puttin' it to your mom. You'll get used to it."

Wondering if he would ever get used to the erotic sounds of his powerful black bully pounding his mother into the mattress, Elliott did his best to try and tune out the lewd noises. He started in on some basic geometry problems with Zeke, who, surprisingly, did seem willing to learn. Elliott didn't know if it was because the boy was relaxed from having dumped a load or two into his mother, or what, but he was able to concentrate on the math problems Elliot gave him.

They kept at it for close to forty-five minutes before he could see Zeke was starting to zone out. His brain was shutting down due to information overload. Just as those thoughts were going through Elliott's mind, the bedroom door upstairs opened and Gunner came out. Like Zeke, he was bare-chested with only his jeans on. Through the floor, the sounds of the noisy bed continued, with Jamal working Elliott's mother over on his own.

"Oh fuck, that woman is so fucking hot," Gunner said as he went to the fridge and pulled out a Red Bull as well. He popped it open and took a big slug right there on the spot, almost draining the can in one fell swoop.

"Good, I need you take over here," Zeke said as he got up from the table. It was clear that he was happy that his lesson was done. "Just listening to you assholes giving it to her has got me all primed to give her a few more loads."

"Don't worry, pal," Gunner said as he took his spot in the seat next to Elliott. "She can take all we've got to give, and still want more. Man, what a hot piece of ass."

"That mouth of hers is something else, eh?" Zeke said, shifting from foot to foot, clearly itching to get back upstairs.

"Oh fuck, it's not just her mouth. Her pussy, her ass, those huge fucking tits. It's not only that she's got a gorgeous face and a perfect body, it's what she can do with it. You definitely need some of this stuff just to keep up with her." Gunner held up his can of Red Bull and then drained it before setting it down on the table with a firm slam as he gave off a contented burp.

Elliott noticed how casually the two boys talked about his mother in that way right in front of him. He realized they didn't care what he thought at all. The truth was, he loved hearing them talk about her that way. He felt himself flushing as waves of excitement flowed through him as they discussed what an amazing fuck she was.

Zeke bounded up the stairs, his fingers already working to undo his fly as he entered the bedroom and closed the door behind. Gunner flicked his hand casually toward the books in front of Elliott. "Well, Smallcox, go ahead and teach me something. If the other two can sit through this kind of shit, I can do it too."

Elliott was quickly getting the picture that Gunner was the biggest hardass of the group. Jamal could be, but Elliott could see already that Jamal only did that when necessary. The black youth could definitely turn on the charm when it suited him, which Elliott realized he'd done with his mother, and he'd likely used on Mrs. Tremblay. But with Gunner, it was different, definitely different. There was no 'Elliott' when he spoke to him by name. It was 'Smallcox', this time anyway. He was sure 'Smelliott' was the other option that had run through Gunner's pea-brain prior to him speaking.

"Uh, you're having trouble with math too, right?" Elliott asked.

Gunner laughed. "Trouble? I guess you could say that. Math, fuck...I hate that shit."

"Um, well..." Elliott said, unsure of even how to continue.

Gunner could see the hesitation in Elliott. He sat forward and tapped the open textbook that Elliott had been working from with Zeke. "Like I said, if those other two can do it, I can do it. So let's get started. I want to get this over with so I can go back and fuck your mother some more."

Well, you can't really put it more blatant than that, Elliott thought to himself as he pulled the book closer. He went back to the same place he's started with Zeke. It only took a few minutes before Elliott realized Gunner was basically dumb as a post. He did listen, and he did try, but he wasn't all that successful, especially at first. Elliott could see that for Gunner, it was more a pride thing. Like he'd said, "If the other two could do it, he could do it." It was almost like he was doing it out of spite. Given the choice, Elliott knew Gunner wanted no part of this tutoring business. But Jamal was their unspoken leader, and he knew Gunner didn't want to cross Jamal, especially when Jamal was letting his pals use Elliott's mother as their personal cum-bucket whenever they wanted. Elliott guiltily had to admit it was the same reason he himself was going along with the whole tutoring business as well.

Just under a half hour into their session, they both looked up as the incessant thumping and squeaking noise from upstairs stopped. Gunner had been working quietly on a problem Elliott had given him and they both sat there, struck by the roaring silence from above. It only lasted a few minutes before it started up again.

EEN-EE...EEN-EE...THUMP...THUMP...THUMP...

"I guess she wants some more," Gunner said, a sly smile on his face. He stood up from the table and dropped his pencil on the notebook, the problem half done. "And who am I to deny a lady of what she wants."

With that nasty lewd smile on his face, Elliott sat there as Gunner turned and walked back up the stairs, once again closing the door behind him once he'd entered the bedroom. Resigned to the fact that the tutoring lessons were over for the day, Elliott stacked up his books and carried them upstairs. He stopped on the way past his mother's room and listened at the door. The relentless creaking and thumping continued, but he was able to hear his mother's distinct moans and groans, which definitely sounded more like moans of pleasure than pain. The boy's voices were reduced to mere mumbles by the solid wood door, but as he listened closely, he did hear Zeke's voice raise in volume, and Elliott was able to make out what he said: "Fuck yeah, that's it. Swallow it. Swallow all that shit."

It wasn't hard for Elliott to figure out what was happening at that moment. With a sad sigh that he'd been shut out at this point, he went into his room and put his books on his desk. He sat down and booted up his computer. Usually when he was home alone with his mother in the middle of a weekend, he'd pull up some of his Photoshopped pictures of her and jerk off. But today, with his bullies fucking her every which way just down the hall from him, jerking off over pictures of her just didn't seem like the right thing to do. He wasn't sure why, but deep down he was hoping that Jamal would call him in, that they'd need their 'Cleanup Boy', and make him do his thing. As had happened before when they'd made him do that, they'd let him get off himself by using his mother. He didn't want to waste a load by jerking off if there was even the slightest chance that might happen in the near future.

So he played his new video game instead. And all the while, the sounds of the relentless fucking continued to seep through the walls from his mother's bedroom. It made him restless, and he didn't know what to do with himself. Feeling confused and antsy, he shut off his computer and tramped downstairs. He plopped himself on the couch and turned on the TV, where he eventually found a favorite old movie that had just started.

The movie was almost over when he heard a sound from upstairs and saw Zeke stick his head around the corner of the door. "Hey Elliott," he yelled down.

"Yeah," Elliott said as he got up from the couch and looked up at the boy.

"Grab us some cans of Red Bull, would ya?" Zeke said as he gestured towards the fridge.

"Uh, sure, okay." Elliott stepped over to the fridge and grabbed three cans before turning around.

"No," Zeke said as he held up his hand, stopping Elliott after he'd only taken a couple of steps. "We need four cans."

"Four?" Elliott asked, clearly confused.

"Yeah, your mother says she wants one too." Zeke gave Elliott a crooked smile and shrugged his shoulders, making it obvious that no further explanation was needed.

"Uh, okay." With his own face flushing with illicit arousal, and some degree of guilt he felt on behalf of his mother, Elliott turned around and grabbed a fourth can. When he got to the top of the stairs he was hoping to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside, but Zeke reached around and grabbed the cans from him and closed the door before he'd been able to see anything. The only thing he heard was his mother speaking before the door closed completely, her voice low and breathy, "Oh God, so big, so fucking big..."

With the door shut right in his face, Elliott went back downstairs and watched the rest of the movie. And then found another one that was just starting. And the bed continued to creak and the constant thumping sound went on and on, interrupted with only brief silences every now and again. About an hour after he'd delivered the Red Bull, the door opened again, only this time Jamal stepped out completely naked, his majestic dick hanging heavily between his legs. He came and stood at the top of the stairs as Elliott looked up at him. He leaned against the stair guardrail while he reached down and scratched idly at his shaven groin, just above the root of his dangling phallus. Even from downstairs, Elliott could see his mother's juices shining nastily on the black youth's ebony prick.

"Everybody's getting hungry," Jamal said. "Your mom said she wants you to take some money from her purse and run down to Robbie's." Elliott knew what Robbie's was, a mom and pop takeout place that made the best burgers and dogs in town. It put McDonalds, Burger King, or any other of those shit chain fast food places to shame. Nobody could compete with Robbie's. "She said for you to grab some burgers and fries for us. Get some drinks too. Coke's will be fine this time. And yeah, get something for yourself too." Jamal paused as Elliott nodded. Elliott felt himself wincing inside at that last comment, as if including him had been an afterthought. "I asked your mother if she wanted one of Robbie's foot-longs, since she seemed to like ours so much." The look of surprise on Elliott's face brought a big smile to Jamal's. "But I guess she's happy with ours, since she said a burger would be just fine."

"Uh, what do you guys want on them," Elliott asked, again wanting to make sure he didn't come back with something that would make Jamal upset with him.

"Gunner and I take 'em fully dressed, but that fuck-up Zeke likes his with just ketchup. I don't know, maybe it's got something to do with him always wanting to earn his Red Wings."

"Red Wings?" Elliott asked, his eyebrows arching up questioningly.

"Yeah, it's a Hells Angels thing. They say you earn your Red Wings if you eat out a girl that's on the rag."

"Oh," Elliott replied, his mind picturing what Jamal had just said.

"Yeah, Zeke's dad's in the Angels and I know he's a got Red Wing patch on his leather vest. Zeke's probably doing his best to be like his dad. So anyway, he likes ketchup only on his burger, that's it. Kind of fucked up, eh?"

"Uh well..." Elliott shrugged.

"Yeah, well, get out of here. Your mom wants us to have more fuel, and she wants some too. We're not done with her yet, and I guess she's not done with us either." He winked at Elliott as he reached down and hefted his tumescent dick, his hand starting to slide provocatively back and forth. He turned and went back into the bedroom, closing the door once more.

Having been dismissed once more, but not wanting to miss anything that might happen that would include him, Elliott grabbed some bills out of his mother's purse and drove to Robbies. He prayed he wouldn't be pulled over by the cops for speeding, but he made it to the restaurant and back in record time.

Not sure of what to do once he got back home, he put the bags of food and the tray of drinks he'd bought on the dining table. The constant thumping and creaking of the bed was still coming through the floor from upstairs. He looked up at the bedroom door, and then at the bags of food, and then back at the bedroom door again, wondering if he should go up and knock at the door, or if they were going to come down to eat at the table. Finally, he called out loudly, "HELLO? I'M UH...I'M BACK WITH THE FOOD."

He heard the heavy tread of footsteps on the floor and looked up as Gunner opened the door and poked his blonde head around the corner.

"Uh, I've got all the food right here," Elliott said, gesturing to the table.

"Great," Gunner replied. "Take your stuff out and bring the rest up here."

Saddened that they weren't coming out to eat, and hadn't even asked him to join them in the bedroom, Elliott did as he was told. He grabbed his own burger and a container of fries and set them on the table before bringing the rest up for them. Gunner was quick to take the bag and tray of drinks once Elliott made it to the top of the stairs.

"Good job, Smelliott. Close the door behind me, will ya?" Gunner said as he took a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to Elliott, a big grin on his face. "My hands are kinda full, kind of like your mother's mouth and pussy is right now."

Elliott obediently closed the door once Gunner had retreated into the room, but not before once again hearing some low rapturous moans from his mother. The sound was partially muffled, and he knew, as Gunner had said, that her mouth must have been full of hard cock. He made his way back downstairs to eat his food. Within a few minutes, that symphonic squeaking and thumping finally stopped. The silence continued for about twenty minutes, and then started up again.