Hunter’s sexy snippets

Deborah Peters had high hopes for what Dr. Chakowski could do for her son Sam and his… enormous issues, but the doctor's hands-on treatment hadn't curbed her little boy's propensity to explode at the slightest provocation. Instead, the overly friendly doctor's ministrations and recommended home treatment regimen had actually led to Sam having even more explosive episodes. Deborah tried to tell herself she should be thankful that Sam's incredibly powerful outbursts weren't the angry or violent kind, but the nature of his eruptions was far more shocking and disconcerting than even the worst temper tantrums could ever be.

That's because Sam, her sweet precious eight year old son, didn't release his pent up energy in the form of an emotional meltdown or childish temper tantrum. Instead, her baby boy released it in the form of hard pulsing jets of thick, hot, clumpy sperm that he fired off from his recently developed and obscenely oversized donkey dick. Her prepubescent son was packing a veritable fire hose of a cock backed up by two massive gurgling balls that continuously produced a seemingly never-ending supply of the thickest, stinkiest jism Deborah had ever seen or smelled in her life. To make matters worse, ever since his doctor's visit Sam had been shooting his voluminous loads far more frequently and in far more places than he ever had before. Deborah had become almost nostalgic for the time before she'd walked into Dr. Chakowski's office, back when a sperm-clogged toilet or shower drain was the worst of her problems.

Now that Sam had the doctor's blessing to follow her explicit instructions, he was nutting fucking everywhere! Every morning Deborah would wake up and wonder where her little stud would blast his loads that day.

One such morning Deborah stepped out of the private bathroom attached to her bedroom, having just finished a luxurious shower, only to find Sam had apparently snuck into her room while she was bathing. Her makeup vanity set, with its broad chestnut top and three large mirrors, was absolutely plastered with her little boy's enormous loads of thick gooey sperm. Fat ropes of cum were criss-crossed over the mirrors and blasted all over her various makeup kits and lipsticks. Her vanity looked like it had been a prop in some kind of perverted bukkake film and her bedroom fucking stank of Sam's potent ball babies. Deborah stood there panting for a few moments, just staring in awe at the incredible display of virility from her pre-pubescent boy. His mammoth balls were so incredibly productive. She'd never seen anything like it! She took a deep breath, then mustered the strength to begin cleaning up his enormous ejaculation.

The next morning Deborah got up early to start brewing a pot of coffee before Sam woke up. She needed as much energy as she could get to deal with whatever he was going to throw at her that day. However, when she walked into the kitchen she knew immediately that her restless little boy had already beaten her there because she was hit in the face with that powerful aroma she was intimately familiar with now. Were there other mothers besides Deborah who had smelled their own son's loads of ball gravy so many times that they knew every note and nuance of his unique sperm stink? Deborah followed her nose to where her favorite coffee mug was sitting on the counter. It was the mug Sam had made for her in art class the previous year for Mother's Day with "I ❤ My Mommy!" painted on the side in bright colors. Though she knew most of the work of creating the mug had been done by his teacher, it was the thought that counted and Deborah had used his thoughtful gift to drink her coffee every morning since then. She stepped up to the counter and when she looked down into her favorite mug she saw that Sam had deposited another gift in it for her this morning.

It was filled to the brim with a fresh, piping hot, gigantic payload of Sam's ball jelly.

Deborah had been subjected to enough of her boy's ejaculations to be able to distinguish the subtle differences from load to load, and she knew just by looking at the twelve ounces of his thick clotted nut custard that this was his first cum load of the day. Sam's nuts were so insanely over-productive that if he went more than a few hours without cumming, when he finally did blow his load it would inevitably be extra thick and clumpy. These were the backed up and coagulated jelly babies he'd been brewing in his big hefty balls all night long, only to shoot them all into his mother's special mug he'd made just for her. Well, not all of them. She knew this wasn't the entirety of his morning load. Deborah was well aware this was only a portion of his first ejaculation of the day and she was sure to find the remainder wherever he'd decided to unload it.

Did Sam somehow know how tempted she was by such a nasty offering? Did he intuitively sense that she'd been fighting with all her strength to not gobble up his shamefully appetizing sperm loads? It took her quite a while to steel herself enough to empty that mug outside rather than directly into her mouth.

Ever since Dr. Chakowski had explicitly pressured Deborah to eat her gradeschool boy's plentiful eruptions of baby batter, the long-suffering mother had become even more stubborn in her refusal to do something so disgusting and downright immoral… no matter how much her mouth watered, or her nipples stiffened, or her mind flooded with detailed fantasies of how heavenly his sperm must taste. Did her naive little boy understand any of this? She was almost certain he had no idea the kind of temptation he was torturing her with, yet it seemed that he was unknowingly determined to break his mother's will.

The next blow to her resolve came later that same day when Sam and her were in the checkout line at the grocery store. She'd gotten their full week's worth of groceries and they were almost all bagged up and loaded into her cart when the pretty teen cashier told her the total. Sam picked up a candy bar from the impulse section right at eye level to kids his age, then looked up at his loving mother.

"Mommy? Can I get this, too?" he asked sweetly, holding up the candy bar.

Deborah smiled down at him, momentarily forgetting all the difficulties her son had been experiencing. "Of course you can, sweetie. Just put it on the conveyor while mommy gets her…"

She had unzipped her purse while she was talking to him, and slipped her hand inside to retrieve her wallet, when she suddenly stopped talking and her face grew pale.

"Ma'am? Did you want to pay with cash or credit?" the high school girl behind the counter asked her. Deborah's heart pounded in her chest as she felt what was inside her purse.

She'd frozen with her fingers knuckle deep in a still hot pool of her eight year old son's horse loads. Her purse was blasted full of Sam's cum. He must have tugged his big stinky dick into her purse right before they left to go to the grocery store, and she'd had it zipped up this whole time and had no idea. She looked down at Sam and he blushed, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes.

"I had to let it out earlier, mommy," he said softly, not wanting the people nearby to hear.

Deborah's nostrils flared a little as she started to get a whiff of Sam's sperm stink. Sweat began to bead up on her forehead as she saw the cute teenage girl behind the counter crinkle her nose a little and furrow her brow, sniffing the air. Deborah bit her lip, then pulled out her credit card as quickly as she could and swiped it through the card reader. The cashier's eyes grew wide as she watched the distressed mother's hand and credit card move almost in a blur, but no amount of speed could disguise the fact that her fingers were coated in pearly goo. In fact, some of it slung onto the card reader as she quickly swiped her card and then shoved it back into her purse.

"Um, are you o-" the cashier began.

"THANK YOU!" Deborah said far louder than she intended to. She quickly wheeled her cart away with one hand, her other hand still firmly planted in her cum-packed purse, with Sam jogging behind her to keep up.

Over the coming days Sam became even more comfortable with relieving the constantly building pressure in his massive gurgling balls.

For example, one Saturday morning Deborah was sitting in her recliner in the living room when Sam came in and hopped up onto the living room couch. He turned on the TV to watch his favorite cartoons and Deborah's heart melted as she watched her cute little man grab the remote with his small hands and eagerly flip through the channels until he found the show he was looking for. Everything he did - apart from pissing sperm everywhere - was so adorable to her that she had a hard time ever being or staying upset with him.

He looked over at her with his sweet innocent eyes. "Mommy? Can you make me a bowl of fruity bepples?"

Deborah sighed happily as her body responded to the adorable sight by releasing a rush of oxytocin into her bloodstream. She loved the way he mispronounced certain words in that childish way. Sam was so cute she could hardly stand it. Was this perfect little cherub of hers really the same boy who had taken to disgorging his gravid horse nuts all over her home on a daily basis?

"Yes, little man." She got up and walked over to him, then leaned down to stroke his hair and gently pinch his chubby cheek. "Of course I will."

Temporarily enamored by her son's childish request, Deborah didn't notice the way Sam's eyes grew wide and fixated on her big swaying tits as she leaned down in front of him, or the way his gaze locked onto her huge fat ass as she walked toward the kitchen. It didn't even occur to her that her jiggling cheeks trying to gobble up her yoga pants would be something her gradeschool boy would be keenly interested in. Had she been walking a little slower, she might have still been within earshot to hear him unzipping his shorts.

A couple minutes late Deborah walked back into the living room with a bowl of her son's favorite sugary cereal.

"Okay, honey. Here's your - OH MY GOD!" Deborah almost dropped Sam's breakfast as she stared in shock at the sight before her. In the short time she'd been in the kitchen he'd hauled out his monster cock and was slowly but steadily stroking it with both of his little hands. His thighs were spread to give him more room and she could clearly see the contours of his enormous balls bulging the front of his shorts, his fat fuckpipe pulled through the open fly and standing tall and proud and throbbing. His dick was so fucking big that the bloated uncircumcised head came up to just under his cute little chin. She watched in amazement as he pulled up and down on that mammoth slab of dick meat, making his foreskin cover and uncover the engorged pulsating knob. "Sam! What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, mommy. It needs to come out again!"

"Baby, you know you need to do that in your… um… your special balloons," she responded, blushing as she found herself still unable to call by name the staggeringly massive condoms she had to keep stocked at all times just to capture as much of her son's horse loads as possible.

Sam responded with a needy moan. Deborah found herself unable to look away as he pulled down on his shaft and unrolled his foreskin almost all the way down to the flared ridge of his glans. His cock head - which was bigger than any she'd ever seen, almost the size of her fist - swelled a little larger and got a little darker, then his coinslot dickhole dilated and lazily spurted an arcing cord of dense, clumpy sperm jelly.

SSHHPPLLLOOORRRTT!!

It splattered noisily onto the couch cushion next to him, a fat wriggling pile of concentrated ball babies so fucking thick that she knew, had he spurted them onto the wall, they would have clung to it like glue. A moment later she was hit with the wave of hot musky sperm stink and she let out a reflexive moan before she even realized she was doing it. Sam apparently took it as a display of disgust.

"I couldn't help it, mommy," he said, pouting. He would have been the picture of earnest childlike remorse if not for the hulking battering ram of a cock grasped by his small hands, the bulbous head still lazily drooling his thick pearly jism that slowly slid down his shaft and over his little fingers. "I… I saw something that made the jelly have to come out," he said, then looked away and blushed.

"What do you mean?" Deborah asked, completely unaware that the temptation between them was mutual. "What did you see?"

Deborah turned and looked around, trying to find something in her son's field of vision that could have possibly triggered such a response. Though Sam didn't really need any prompting to start blasting his loads, if there was something that was making it worse she wanted to find it and remove its influence. She turned away from him, still looking around the room, and Sam's eyes locked onto his mother's dumptruck ass.

"Unnhhh!" he moaned and from behind her Deborah heard more splattering. She turned just in time to see the tail end of his latest cum rope exiting his wide-open piss slit and slapping across the couch cushion and armrest. The room was quickly filling with the smell of piping hot boy sperm.

"What am I gonna do with this boy?" Deborah asked herself quietly as Sam spurted another jet all over the wall behind the couch, the thick coagulated cum clinging to the wall like glue, just as she knew it would.

Deborah quickly left the room to remove herself from the unbearable temptation of seeing her son ejaculate. She had no idea that her haste caused her fat cheeks to jiggle and clap together in a display that caused Sam's nuts to hitch. His cock pissed more sperm all over the wall behind the couch, further saturating the living room with the smell of billions of his eager swimmers.

After collecting herself in her room for a few minutes, she came back downstairs to assess the damage. When she walked into the living room she saw Sam was indeed watching one of his favorite cartoons with rapt attention, but his cock was still pulled out and he was still stroking it. There were more cum ropes all over the couch. She turned to look at the screen and saw there was a cartoon woman on screen who was quite curvaceous, with a very large and prominent bust. Though she wasn't drawn in a provocative way, it was blatantly obvious that the toon lady was fucking stacked. Sam moaned and fired off a huge jet of boy nut that arced across the room and splattered all over the TV screen. He kept tugging his horse cock and firing off more and more salvos of hot smelly jism, hosing down the TV and completely obscuring the character on screen as if here were giving her a fucking one-boy bukkake.

When he was done nutting he casually stuffed his slimy donkey dick into his shorts and went to his room to play video games, his breakfast cereal apparently forgotten in the dopamine haze of post-orgasm. Deborah surveyed the huge mess and sighed, then began the arduous task of cleaning up her boy's hefty ejaculation. The process took hours. As Deborah breathed through her mouth so as not to smell any more of Sam's potent ball loads, she wondered to herself if there was even a point in cleaning up his messes. He was just going to keep spurting and shooting and blasting his nut custard all over her house. Dr. Chakowski's words floated through her head again for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"He can blast like that every fucking day if he's properly milked!"

The unorthodox doctor had been prophetically accurate. Sam was shooting loads multiple times a day at this point, each one bigger than the combined loads of a dozen grown men. In fact, almost every room in their home now carried the faint scent of his jism. How much longer before anyone who stepped inside would immediately smell her boy's sperm stink? Or was it already that bad and she just couldn't tell because she'd become so used to it? That was one of the many Sam-related reasons she no longer invited anyone over. She also didn't have a lot of free time considering that gathering and disposing of her son's constant ejaculations was basically a full-time job for her. It took up so much of her day that she'd started homeschooling him just to avoid the inevitable problems he would cause in the classroom. This was facilitated by the fact that she'd also taken a paid and extended leave of absence from her job using the excuse that she needed to care for her son's "special needs". She was glad she had that option, otherwise she didn't know how she would keep her life from completely falling apart.

As for Sam, he was clearly taking Doctor Barbara's recommended "treatment plan" to heart more and more because the frequency of his eruptions only continued to increase. It was now commonplace for Sam to have his cock out at all hours of the day: idly tugging on it while he watched a movie, slapping it into the crook of his elbow and humping against it as his hands were occupied playing a video game, letting that monster out under the dining room table while they were eating dinner and letting it knock against the underside each time it flexed and rose up like a fucking monster trying to break through the solid slab of wood. In each case that wrist-thick member of his was burping and spurting his cum wherever it wanted. He didn't even bother anymore with attempting to deposit it surreptitiously in their toilet or shower. No, he was obviously much more comfortable with his special gifts than he had been before going to the doctor.

Not only that, but he seemed to have more control over his cum now. Deborah would watch helplessly throughout the day as her little boy grunted softly and pushed out mini-loads, which for Sam's huge hairless balls meant only a few cups of jism. He'd spurt them onto the kitchen floor, the living room end tables, his laundry basket, onto her bed. Wherever he was, whenever he felt his nuts gurgling and brewing up more clumpy kid cum, he'd haul out his donkey dick - if it wasn't out already - and milk out just enough thick ball pudding to release some pressure from his overburdened nuts. Then he'd go right back to whatever he was doing, as if him dumping payloads of boy jelly all over the house was a completely normal part of his day, because at this point it well and truly was.

Maybe he wouldn't be so nonchalant about it if Dr. Chakowski hadn't planted such filthy ideas in his head, Deborah thought to herself. Then again, she knew it was ultimately her fault he was so comfortable with it because she still couldn't bring herself to directly address it, to force him to stop. Her non-confrontational nature ran so deep that she would only stare with dumbstruck impotence as Sam painted her walls, furniture, and bedding like a perverted Jackson Pollock who was going through a "white" phase.

Sometimes, while cleaning up one of Sam's abstract works writ large on whatever surface he'd casually nutted all over, Deborah would think back to her own childhood and the way her mother, Cynthia Peters, had raised her. Cynthia was a stern and demanding woman. Some of Deborah's earliest memories were of her mother swatting her ass and telling her to "sit down!" or "behave!" or "watch your mouth!" Deborah was already an inherently meek child, but her mother's firm and unwavering nature only made Deborah even more obsequious. She suspected that her conflict-avoidant tendencies and submissive personality were in large part due to her mother's parenting style. That's what made it even more irritating to her when the fifty six year old grandmother would dote on her grandson Sam and spoil him rotten. He had no idea just how cunning and indomitable his grandmother was, he only knew her as his sweet, loving, indulgent Nana.

Because she wasn't allowing anyone over to the house while Sam continued using their home as a cum dump, Deborah had to make excuses to keep her mother from visiting. This amounted to resisting the older woman's iron will and it had been taking more and more effort lately to do so. Deborah was afraid she was running out of excuses. She knew that eventually her mother would find a way to see her only grandson, but she told herself that was one of those problems that would have to wait for another day.

She quietly cursed her mother as she cleaned Sam's jelly babies from the living room television where he'd splattered them after seeing that busty cartoon character in a perfectly modest dress. Why did they have to draw her with such obviously large breasts? She wished she could write the showrunners and tell them "Knock it the fuck off! Don't you know I have an ultra-hung stud of a kid with a fucking firehose cock that's constantly primed to geyser his hot sticky seed at the merest glimpse of boobs or butts?" She chuckled to herself at the ridiculous thought and it made the chore a little more bearable, at least until she heard Sam moaning from his bedroom followed by the unmistakable sound of boy batter splattering all over some surface or other.

"Fuck my life," she groaned, then got up to go assess her son's latest mess.