John/Rose/Mom

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Your name is ROSE LALONDE. Your birthday is on DECEMBER 4th, which happens to be TODAY. You will be turning SIXTEEN YEARS OLD,  You are prepared to spend the day with several of your CLOSE FRIENDS while simultaneously avoiding your MOTHER who will surely try to one-up you this day by showering you with GIFTS, all of which will be ludicrously GARISH and which you will HATE.

However, when you awaken this winter morning, something is incredibly wrong. For one, your arms refuse to move, and in fact your entire body will not move. While the fog of sleep clears, you become aware that you aren't even in your bed anymore. You have been strung up in your bedroom, nude and hanging from the hooks used to hold hanging plants, with your arms bound behind your back and your legs folded up in a sort of hog tie.

This can really only be the work of your mother, so instead of panicking you merely wait for your mother to strut in from her drunken stupor.
–
When Ms. Lalonde does come into the room, she's not alone. She has a body thrown over her shoulder, arms and legs bound and mouth gagged. None of these things are necessary, as the person has been drugged before hand, but Ms. Lalonde prefers the look in the given context.

Rose looks on impassively as her mother stumbles a bit into the bedroom, both from the alcoholic beverage she has surely had previously and from the weight of the body. As soon as she dumps the drugged youth on the bed, however, Rose's eyes widen, just for a second but she already knows her mother's seen it and has taken it as her first victory in this battle.

“Mother, what is he doing here?” She steadies her voice forcing herself to look uninterested in the fact that her own mother is now stripping perhaps the one guy she's ever liked. It's silent except for the sound of clothes moving and John groaning in his unconscious state.

“It's your birthday, dear.” Rose hates being called that. “And I thought that I would give you the best present I could, and what else would you love more than...oh what was it? Jack?” Mom frowns, pausing in her efforts to tie John's limbs to the bed posts.

“John, mother. His name is John.” Rose will not ask how her mother even managed to get him all the way here so soon, refusing to indulge in her mother's horseshit. She can see her mother nod her head before returning to work. When she steps back with a satisfied murmur, Rose can finally get a clear look at her friend.

And John fucking Egbert is hung. Not a monstrous thirteen inch dick or anything, but he is certainly far larger than Rose thinks she's capable of taking. Her mother leaves the room, keeping Rose suspended in the air and unable to do much of anything. Not that she could do anything anyway, with John still passed out. And of course, when her mom returns she's carrying a glass of vodka in one hand with the other clenched in a fist.

“Insurance,” Mom's voice sounded almost giddy as she flashed a small pill towards Rose before removing John's gag and slipping him the pill. After making sure he swallowed, she replaced the gag and nodded, more to herself then anything, in approval.

And if Rose isn't completely freaked out before, she is once her mother begins stroking her buck-toothed friend. Her hand glides over his flaccid length, alternating between squeezing roughly and holding it gently. She continues like this for a few minutes, varying speeding until she manages to get him half hard which is when John starts to stir, blinking rapidly to get used to the light. Big blue eyes widen behind his usual black-rimmed glasses when he notices a naked Rose in the air and her mother fondling his junk.

“Mrf Mrmda?' John utters what might have been a horrified scream, immediately starting to struggle against his bonds. Ignoring him, Mrs. Lalonde licks her lips before dipping her head down to swallow him completely in one go. John's already big eyes go impossibly wide, his body stilling for a moment before twitching and jerking, moving on it's own accord to match the pace of Mom's hot mouth bobbing up and down. Rose cringes at the sound of sloppy slurping, watching her mother move from the base all the way to the tip, swirling her tongue around the head before greedily sucking him whole, smearing her lipstick along him.

John starts to let out needy, confused whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut and still thrashing from side to side. The heat from Mom's mouth feels like it's radiating through his entire body and his dick is hard enough to ache. There's a coiling burning in his abdomen that feels like it's winding tighter and tighter, and John starts clenching and un-clenching his fist, groaning and bucking his hips.

Mom pulls away slowly, John's dick springing out of her mouth with a loud pop, and Rose stares, slack-jaw. Her MOTHER has just sucked John's DICK, and even if she wanted to pretend it hadn't happened she couldn't deny the sheen of spittle coating his length. The entire situation is too surreal, too out of control to actually be happening. And yet, her mother is already crossing the room towards her, eyes glassy and before she even gets that close, Rose can smell the mixture of alcohol and arousal coming from her in waves.

“Mother, this is going entirely to far. I must implore you to reconsider your birthday present and release me and John at on-” Rose is cut off by Mom promptly stuffing her mouth with a pair of her own dirty panties. The blond narrows her eyes at the woman, watching as she saunters her way behind Rose. It doesn't take very long though for Mom to make her move, and the older woman is bending forward so that she can speak directly into Rose's ear,

“You really should enjoy yourself more, dear. It's your birthday after all.” Rose can't really tell if her mother is trying to be serious or not, considering the fact that while whispering in her ear, she's got her hands groping  Rose's small breasts. It feels a lot better than she wants to admit, having a pair of hands other than her own squeezing her tits and toying with her nipples. When she remembers it's her mother currently managing to get her body to tingle and grow warm, Rose feels disgusted and horrified.

Her mother is still mumbling into her ear, telling her to enjoy herself, when she starts sliding one hand along her stomach and sides, up to her neck to clutch it for a moment as if about to strangle her, and then back down to her breast. Even from something as little as having her nipples tweaked and pulled, Rose can feel herself getting wet. And then, her legs are suddenly freed, dangling a few inches above the floor. Her arms are still bound, and her mother has managed to still keep her suspended in the air, but she's can't see how.

Not that it matters because Rose is distracted by a completely different problem involving her mother's mouth clamped around one of her nipples. She squirms, uncomfortable with both the fact that her MOTHER is sucking on her tit like a baby and the fact that she finds the feeling of being suckled incredibly arousing. While nibbling on one breast, Mom grabs onto the other to continue kneeing and fondling, feeling her daughter's breath quicken.

Rose squeals through the panties still in her mouth when her mother slides two fingers inside of her with ease. And then the woman haws the gall to look up at her with her eyes glazed and lidded, and her lips still wrapped around one perky breast, smearing her lipstick all over her pale skin. The teen can't help but shudder at the sight, and that is enough to give Rose a startling realization.

Her mother isn't trying to one-up her by fucking John in front of her and then forcing her to orgasm. The girl's mind starts to race as she feels her mother work another finger into her, wiggling and flexing and managing to get her even wetter than before. Her drunken, insane mother was going to have her fuck John Egbert. And for probably the first time in her life, Rose is scared. Her heart feels like it's going to thump right out of her chest, her throat becoming painfully tight.

She's so focused on her feelings that she barely notices when her feet touch the ground, or when she's hoisted up into her mother's arms, or even when she's carried over to the bed. She does notice that John is whimpering, and it's not until then that she realizes her mother has her squatting over his dick, carefully balancing her by holding onto her waist. Her stomach churns in uncomfortable knots, and the knowledge of what's about to happen doesn't make it any easier on her nerves.

“Now dear, this may hurt a bit but I do believe in you.” Rose flared her nostrils, screaming muffled swears and wiggling in her mother's grasp. John looked up at her with big blue eyes, shaking his head and straining against his bonds. Despite the frantic struggling of both teens, Mom managed to get Rose lowered onto the head of John's dick, and instantly all movement stopped. Rose sucked in as much air as she could, not wanting to show her mother just how much pain she's in. Ms. Lalonde pauses for a moment before continuing to force Rose downward, feeling her daughter's young body shake as she takes John's entire length.

John let out a shuddering gasp that sounds a bit more like a squeak; Rose was unfathomably tight, her body clenching around him and squeezing his dick in a vice grip. And even though he felt absolutely ashamed of himself, he couldn't help but thrust into her, feeling Rose clench even harder in shock. Mom takes this opportunity to grab Rose by the hips and begin rocking her back and forth, leaning forward to smile encouragingly to the two kids.

“There we go, it's alright John. Just keep thrusting, Rose will like it too if you give her time.” John mumbles something through his gag, eyes wide and face red from holding back tears. He looks at Rose who looks just as miserable as him, her face scrunched up as she fought back her own sobs. Contrary to Ms. Lalonde's gentle words, John restrained himself as best as he could, stilling his hips and simply looking up at the ceiling. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the steady rocking of Rose on top of him; ignoring the older woman still speaking softly to the two teens.

“John, you stopped moving. We really can't have that, what kind of birthday present would a half-finished session of sex be?” Mom tightened her grip on Rose's hips, bouncing her up and down while still rocking her back and forth. She could still feel Rose trembling in her grip and whispered soft words into her ear, trying to calm her down.

“I'm only doing this because I love you and I want you to be happy.” And with that, the older woman makes her way to Rose's clit and starts to rub gentle circles around it. Rose immediately bucks her hips, letting out muffled yells and jerking around wildly. The feeling is almost too much to bear, John's dick filling her up and her mother's continuous rubbing are steadily starting to bring her to orgasm. She can feel her throat starting to burn and her eyes sting, but she doesn't want to start crying. Not in front of John and her mother.

John can feel her flexing around him and feels himself thrust into her once again, unable to control himself. He looks up into Rose's dark eyes and tries hard to show her how sorry he is, but it's hard to look sorry when your body is fucking your friend. His hips thrust a few more times, harder and rougher, into Rose's tightness before he can start to feel the unmistakeable approach of orgasm. Mrs. Lalonde can sense it approaching as well because she uses as much strength as she can gather in one hand to get a firm grip on her daughter's hips and starts rocking her quicker. She also presses down slightly on Rose's clit as she rubs, once again making Rose thrash her body around.

Even as his body stiffens and his dick starts to twitch, John struggles against his bonds, trying desperately to shake Rose off or break free or something. But Mrs. Lalonde holds steady, watching in fascination as John unloads shot after shot of hot semen into her daughter, who lets out a low moan at the feeling. While John is letting out his own moans and whimpers through the gag, Mrs. Lalonde manages to bring her daughter to climax a few minutes later. John comes back down from orgasm just in time to watch Rose arch her back, feel her clenching on his rapidly softening cock, and hear her moaning or choking or screaming through her used panties.

When Mrs. Lalonde finally does let go of the blond, she slumps down onto John's chest, exhausted physically and mentally. While Mom goes back to look around for her glass of vodka, John sighs and closes his eyes. For a long while there's no sound in the room besides the heavy breathing of Rose and Mom sipping from her glass. And then the singing starts. Low and off key, but nearly deafening in the silence of the bedroom. Mom is singing happy birthday and running her hands through Rose's hair. John can feel his chest getting soaked. Now that he's listening, John can hear the quiet, muffled sobs of the petite blond bawling into his bare skin.

“Happy birthday dear Rose, happy birthday to you.”