Despite the tenderness and closeness that generally characterizes relationships between mothers and sons, there exists an expansive, barely explored, twilight world of confusion.
The confusion stems from the complex series of interrelationships, which frequently extend beyond that which is normally considered acceptable.
I recently had an opportunity to discuss this topic at great length at a seminar co-chaired by Gilbert Lyons, a colleague and friend, who' has written extensively on the complexities of mother-son relationships.
Lyons has concentrated in the main on one central topic-just what prompts a mother and son to transcend the normally acceptable mother-son roles and engage in sex?
In the course of exhaustive discussion pertaining to this particular subject, Lyons revealed the following:
"The more extensively I research this area (mother-son sex), the more amazed I become over the various offshoots that exist within it. There doesn't seem to be any basic blueprint In one case a young man is lonely and needs more attention from his mother than a better adjusted young man would require. One thing leads to another and, before either one of them is totally aware of what is happening, they engage in sex."
"How about the case of the mother who, for one reason or another, seduces her son?" a graduate student in psychology asked from the audience.
"Precisely, that is another category," the learned Mr. Lyons crisply responded. "I was just about to get into that. But what is highly significant is your statement, 'for one reason or another.' It represents another instance of the exceptions totally engulfing the rule."
"How do you mean?" the young man asked, looking a little on the perplexed side.
"I mean that there are scores of reasons that must be considered individually," Lyons replied. "These various reasons hold the clue as to what actually motivates a woman to feel passions of that particular nature for her son. It could be, for instance, a case of a mother wanting to return to her youth, a goal she feels she can accomplish by having sex with her son. She could feel a need to obtain some kind of sex expression, particularly if relations are strained between the woman and her husband."
"I understand what you're driving at," I intervened at that point. "What you're saying is that there aren't any blanket theories that will encompass anything as disparate as the reasons behind why mothers and sons have sex."
"That's exactly it," Lyons said. "When I was compiling research for my book, 'The Mother-Son Sin,' I interviewed a woman in her middle forties who had had an affair with her son of fifteen. She kept asking me in desperation just what I thought made her do it. Naturally I responded to her question with a series of questions of my own, seeking to determine what her motivation might have been. You know, the harder I tried the more frustrating the situation became. All she could tell me was that she saw her son looking handsome and willing and she seized the initiative. I couldn't really help her, and mainly because she couldn't determine just what drove her to that point, or, in the event that she knew, she just wouldn't share her secrete with me. And, of course, there is one other possibility as well. Her embarrassment might have exceeded her desire to get to the gist of things."
The seminar lasted several more minutes, after which we shifted to a topic area about which I knew a good deal more than I did mother-son incest It was that of sexual relations between women and dogs, concerning which I have written prolifically.
I was asked most of the questions concerning bestiality, but I had a good deal of difficulty concentrating on matters at hand.
The big reason was that my mind was wandering, and what was causing it to do so were the revelations that my colleague Gil Lyons had made during the incest phase of our discussion.
I got to thinking about what might encompass a new theme within the generic context of incest.
I could hardly wait for the discussion to end for the day so that I could collar my old friend Gil Lyons and obtain some answers to a few questions that were kicking around restlessly in my mind.
When the seminar broke up I answered a few questions posed by some eager students, while a young female psychiatrist kept Gil engaged in conversation for a few minutes.
Once the psychiatrist ended her conversation with Gil, I suggested that we go to the bar and have a drink.
"What have you got on your mind, Ernie?" he asked right off, detecting the air of urgency about me.
"A theme for a new book," I related.
"That should be interesting."
We took a booth in an isolated section of the room, after which I continued the conversation.
"Have you ever done a book on the subject of aggressive mothers?" I asked.
"I've explored the question within the framework of general incest studies," Gil replied after a long pause, "but I never did a complete book on the topic. I must confess, though, that I think it would make a good one."
"Would you believe that I'm convinced I could do one on the subject?"
"I wouldn't put anything past you, Ernie," Gil grinned. "That would be an ambitious project to undertake."
"I've done an awful lot of writing in the bestiality area lately," I explained, "and the new challenge would be a meaningful one. On top of that, I think it would afford me an opportunity to tread on relatively new ground."
"I quite agree. As a matter-of-fact, let me be the first person to wish you luck on your ambitious undertaking," he smiled amiably.
That was how the idea received its creative input, at least from my end.
In the early stages of embarkation I encountered so many problems that, for a time, I wondered whether the project would ever reach the fruition stage.
The major difficulty was finding women who, after admitting that they had had sex with their sons, were willing to go one step further and candidly admit that they had aggressively pursued them.
Despite the difficulties, I relentlessly plodded forward ultimately amassing a good deal of research concerning women who, for many varied reasons, desired their sons sexually with such hunger that they were willing to pursue them.
"I always loved my son dearly," one woman admitted, "but all of a sudden it was like Sadie Hawkins Day in my last year of high school. I was pursuing him in a deep heat, hardly able to believe what was happening. But it was all very real, and once I got him into bed, all I could think of was making the most of things."
"Did you receive any guilt feelings about what you were doing?" I asked.
"Not then I certainly didn't," she shook her head. "They came along later. After the joys of the sex began to fade a little I started feeling like the world's biggest crumb. Whenever I'd read anything or see anything on television about juvenile delinquency the message hit home. I was a delinquent mother in my book."
"Did you finally stop having sex with your son?"
"For periods of time I have," she reflected sadly, "but not for any lengthy period. I just can't seem to stop. It's just plain awful, and I do everything I can to appear enticing to my son. When his father's away, which is quite a bit, I put on all kinds of negligees and things, all to keep him very much interested."
The more intensively I dug into my subject matter, the more I thought about the words of wisdom that my brilliant colleague Gil Lyons enunciated during the seminar about the various complex patterns on the part of the women involved.
My subjects ranged all the way from women who felt acutely guilty about what they had done, such as the women alluded to above, to women who were arrogantly prideful about what they had participated in.
One woman asserted:
"The best thing I ever did in my life was to start balling my own son, even if it took a lot of preparation before he was willing to screw with the gal who brought him into the world in the first place. Let me just tell you one thing. It was time well spent coaxing him into it, and I'll keep on fucking him just as long as we both keep enjoying it."
The following five case histories reflect a cross-section of the most significant themes I encountered as represented in human factual settings.
CASE ONE
Vincent R. was my first subject.
A candid young man of seventeen, he was more than willing to reveal anything and everything he experienced with his mother.
He related the whole story as to how they got involved sexually.
Following is Vincent's story as told in his own words:
There was this gorgeous chick at school that I was doing my damndest to score with.
A lot of guys were trying to put the make on her, and who the hell could blame them? She was a pretty gorgeous gal.
Her name was Terry, and she had sparkling red hair and a set of tits like you just wouldn't believe.
I dated Terry regularly for a period of one month, and I just couldn't seem to score with her, no matter how damned hard I tried.
But one evening I was bound and determined to get her under the sheets, so after I took her to a movie, we stopped outside a liquor store.
I flagged down a guy who was going inside, asking if he would buy a pint for me.
"Why don't you do it?" he asked, looking at me and grinning.
"I left my ID at home."
"Bullshit," the guy laughed. "You're under twenty-one. Isn't that the reason?"
"I wish you would give me a hand, mister," I told him.
"Just messing with your mind, son," the guy laughed. "You know, I used to pull the same thing when I was your age. But you might just as well come out with it and tell me the whole thing. I'm sure as hell not going to believe any story."
"I'm much obliged, mister."
"Don't mention it."
The man went inside and bought a pint of liquor for me, coming back and bringing me my change.
"Thanks again," I grinned, skipping off to my car and climbing inside.
Sitting next to me was that gorgeous creature Terry, and just looking at her made my cock bulge. It danced in my pants, and I could hardly wait to get my first shot at her snatch.
We drove a few blocks away, stopping in a vacant parking lot.
While we sat there in the darkened parking lot, hearing sounds of traffic from several blocks away, I took the bottle out of the paper sack and broke open the seal.
"How much drinking do you usually do, baby?" I asked.
"Not much."
"You're really going to love this whiskey."
"I hope I don't get smashed."
"Don't you worry about a thing," I laughed, knowing damned well that I was going to do everything I could to see to it that she got smashed.
I showed her how brave I was by taking a couple of solid gulps. I then handed her the bottle, giving her an opportunity to do some drinking.
All it took were a few gulps and she was already showing the effects of the booze. I tried to encourage her all the more by drinking quickly, gulping the whiskey down. I made sure that I drank it in pretty large doses.
"How're you feeling?" I asked her.
"I feel pretty good," she laughed.
I finally decided to make my big move after we had polished off most of the bottle.
"Let's go over to my place," I said.
I knew damned well that my old lady was out She's got to be one of the best looking chicks around, and she has this thing for boozing it up and getting laid by men.
She started playing around when she was married to my Dad, and he finally got disgusted and left her.
I'll say one thing about her. She didn't usually want to bring guys home with her, so she'd have them take her to their places to screw. She always figured that if she did it around the house, that she'd be contributing to my delinquency.
I give her credit for being sincere, even though I didn't look at it that way.
So we got to my pad, and went inside.
The drinks had loosened her up quite a bit, and she was giggling like crazy.
"I want some more to drink," she said.
Even though I figured she'd had enough, I decided if I didn't give her more, she'd get a little upset. So I handed her the bottle, and she drank some more.
By that time she was good and smashed, and I was all set to entice her into the bedroom.
I was all over her in a flash, panting like a hungry puppy dog as my lips plunged against hers.
I made certain that my lips froze against Terry's for quite some time. I liked the way that her whole body was giving way under my onslaught.
She started trembling like crazy, and all the while my lips remained plunged fervently against hers.
When I withdrew my lips, I reached out and ran my fingers through her lovely red hair.
I loved touching her, I loved being around her. I was planning on working her up to the point where I could fuck her just the way that I wanted to.
I grabbed her by the hand, pulling her up and exclaiming:
"Let's go to bed." She giggled loudly. "You nasty boy, you."
"I'll show you that I don't have any of the boy in me," I grinned. "Just look at the size of my cock."
"Just look at it shifting around in your trousers. That's really something."
"You're damned right it is," I laughed.
She walked with me into the bedroom, and we began to quickly undress.
I wanted to help her along, so I walked over and began to unbutton her dress.
I lifted it over her head with one sweeping movement, and as I did, my heart started palpitating more noticeably than ever. I was getting hungrier every second, desiring to fuck her.
Once I got her down to her panties and bra, I reached out and unstrapped her bra, pulling it off. I then grabbed her panties, pulling downward at the elastic, relentlessly pursuing my objective.
I removed Terry's panties, then observed her smooth naked body.
The longer that I looked at her petite, lovely form, the more overpowering the feelings within me became. I observed her sparklingly red pussy hairs, and reached down with my right hand, running my fingers smoothly over her pubic mound.
"Ah, that's real nice," she sighed.
"You like me to touch your pussy?"
"Oh yes. I wish you would take your clothes off, though."
"I will. I'm just trying to massage you a little first"
I removed my fingers from her snatch, then took off my clothes.
When I slid out of my shorts and revealed my long hard prick, she looked at me and gasped.
"You're sure ready," she said.
"You're damned right, honey. I've been ready for a long time."
Once more I looked down at her snatch. It looked so damned delicious that I couldn't resist it.
"I'll make you a deal," I looked into Terry's beautiful eyes and said. "If I slip my tongue inside your pussy, I wish that you'd reach out with your right hand and start pumping up and down on my prick."
"Oh yes, I'll gladly accept that deal."
"Are you pretty good at pumping on a hard rod?"
"I'll just let you be the judge."
She reached out with her right hand, slipping her fingers up and down my long, rangy pecker.
She used excellent stroke technique, bringing just the right amount of emphasis to bear with her brisk touches.
My whole cock tingled from the passionate sensations that she supplied, and while her fingers were maneuvering over my prick, I could feel the tugs of sensation bulging at my balls.
"I've got to eat you," I exclaimed urgently.
"Go ahead, baby. I'll spread my legs for you anytime."
"I'm going to slip my tongue into your slit."
"Come on and suck me, baby. Suck my hot snatch."
"Come on and suck me, baby. Suck my hot snatch."
"Just wait, sweetheart. You're going to get a beautiful licking."
She enchanted me so much that I decided I would work my tongue around her ass-hole before I began to slide it over her pussy.
My fingers reached out and toyed with her snatch. They worked over her pubic hairs for a little while, after which I slid them against her vagina.
While I touched her vaginal walls, bringing forth all kinds of tingling sensations inside her pussy, I worked my tongue into her ass-hole..
My darting tongue generated a sharp impact in her anus. I kept sliding my tongue back and forth, driving it hard and fast into her ass-hole.
Her body swayed with every dynamic thrust that my tongue asserted. While I worked over her mound, she reached out with her fingers and began to tug with increasingly greater rapidity over my bulging prick.
It felt magnificent to be receiving those brilliant finger strokes from her. She knew just how to get me excited.
The longer that her fingers stroked up and down the surface of my huge instrument, the greater the degree of recklessness I felt.
While she stroked up and down my cock, I worked my tongue that much faster over her ass-hole. I plunged it high into her rectum, fingering her pussy while I did so.
She enjoyed the highly stimulating movements that I supplied, and I knew that soon I would have to be switching my efforts to her pussy.
I wanted to taste her, to eat her sweet juices.
I withdrew my tongue from her ass-hole, then began to slide it around her pussy.
I was pleased to observe how moist her snatch hair already was from the movements that I had generated by her ass-hole. I could easily see that I excited her to a great extent.
While my tongue worked frantically inside her mound, she kept on exercising her fingers briskly, sliding them up and down my long pecker.
It made me feel great to receive her hot finger stabs while I sucked her mound closer to the completion stage.
The closer that I drew to getting her off, the faster that her fingers worked up and down the length of my organ.
"Keep sucking me," she begged. "Oh, I want it I'm going to bust you in the mouth, sweetheart. The juices are going to fly. Ah, I'm going to juice inside you. You're going to swallow my hot pussy juices. I want you to have them, baby. I want you to swallow every delicious drop, darling."
A few moments later the pussy droplets began to spill from her mound and into my mouth.
As I went to work gobbling up the fruits of my efforts, she kept on pumping up and down with her fingers on my cock.
Now I was receiving one kind of beautiful satisfaction, and another part of me continued to burn up. I needed to get my bulging prick off, and it was just a question of when and how.
After I released my tongue from her passion pit, I got set to put my cock to work.
"You can let go now," I said.
"You sound pretty determined, honey."
"I am. I'm going to shoot off my cock."
"Oh, that really sounds good."
"Yes, baby. I'm going to get the thing off. I'm going to drive it into your snatch and really explode."
"Yes, ho, yes, I want it. I want to feel your long dick plunging inside there."
Those words really drove me into action. I liked the fact that, as long last, after I had patiently worked my way into her confidence, I was going to get to fuck her snatch.
She lay back on the bed, spreading her legs as I prepared to mount her.
I reached out and ran my fingers up and down her legs. I liked the texture of them, and permitted my fingers to indent them quite sharply.
While my fingers were plunging into her skin, I watched my cock with one propulsive thrust move toward her beautiful snatch.
I drove my stick penetratingly toward her mound, letting it slide inside her.
I plunged hard and fast, enjoying the first brisk stimulating contact with her mound.
She clasped her legs together, causing the tightness to accentuate as I kept thrusting my prick inside her.
Back and forth I drilled, putting every bit of effort ahat I possessed into every stabbing thrust.
While her legs kicked and she twisted her body back and forth receiving my hot jolting stabs, I reached out and played with her ass-cheeks.
I loved squeezing them, and the longer that I did so, the harder that I fucked her. I kept burying my cock ever deeper inside her hot pussy, plunging for all I was worth, moving ever closer to climax.
The dramatic efforts continued. I kept on stabbing, plunging my long spear into her, putting my very best into the thrusting effort.
My ass-cheeks began to flip back and forth in dramatic response to her efforts. Her body would thrust up and meet my skillful stabs, which made the whole process so much easier for both of us.
She would provide me with stimulation, while I would do the very same thing for her.
My fingers kept on squeezing her buttocks, and as I did, I ground my prick ever deeper inside her blazing pussy.
"Keep on fucking me," she called out. "Ah, come on and fuck, drive that prick inside me, baby. Oh, I like the way you weild your hard dick. Come on and keep sliding it. Ah, drive your pecker inside me, baby. Plunge it in there. Oh, I like the way you're plunging it, baby. Ah, I really like it"
A few stirring strokes later, I found myself moving every closer to climax.
I felt the itchiness accelerating in my balls. I knew that it wouldn't be long before my cock erupted.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she called out.
Several strokes later, the first few droplets of white juice began to spill out of the end of my pecker.
As I started to unload, I leaned forward and slipped my tongue inside her mouth.
Back and forth our tongues eagerly collided, and as they did, the stream of hot orgasmic liquid began to spray ever so overwhelmingly out of the end of my dick and into her pussy.
Her whole body shook every time that I unleashed some more juice.
I released my tongue from her mouth, looking down at her and smiling.
"What a juice stream," I said. "I can't remember the last time that I unloaded that much at one orgasm, baby."
"Oh yes, that was really a blast. Wasn't it?"
"You ought to know. You were on the receiving end."
"It was perfectly delightful."
"I'm glad you thought so. I felt the same way."
I leaned forward and kissed her lips tenderly. Then I proceeded to remove my lips.
I looked at her and smiled. I wanted to rest for a few minutes before going on to some more fucking.
At that point I heard the front door close.
"My God," I jumped up from the bed and exclaimed.
"Who is it?" Terry looked at me.
"It might be my old lady."
I heard the sounds of footsteps heading into my room. I observed my mother standing with a silly, cockeyed expression on her face, staring at both of us in the doorway.
"Well, I see that my son has been having a little more success tonight that I have," my mother said. "Vince, what do you mean getting a piece of ass over here?"
"Since you weren't around, I figured it would be okay."
"I don't like that type of thing. It could cause embarrassment. You know, a guy could bring me over here one evening."
"You've refrained from doing that, Mother."
"I know I have, but that was in deference to you, sweetheart. After all, you were a very young boy. But you're growing up fast. And I must say, I admire your taste. Terry is a lovely girl."
"Thank you, Penny," Terry exclaimed.
"I really had a rough time at the bar," my mother said, a little drunkenly, the words slurring. "There just weren't any attractive men in there at all. The only one who was trying to give me any action was a lousy, mealy mouth drunk that I wouldn't walk across the street with, much less slept with. There were a few handsome guys in there buy they were with their wives, dammit. That made it awfully rough for me."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Terry said. "You deserve the best, Penny., You're such an attractive woman."
"You really think so, sweetheart?" Penny's lit up.
"Certainly, it's obvious."
"I like to hear you talk that way."
While Terry continued to lie in the middle of the bed, and as I stood next to it, my mother began to take off her clothes.
She had been dressed in a very sexy manner that evening, hoping to attract the eye of a man. She had on a white micro mini skirt with a tight fitting light brown blouse. She also wore white boots, and she started out by kicking off the boots.
I must say that she has gorgeous a pair of legs as I heve ever seen. She certainly wasn't above showing off her body whenever the occasion presented itself.
She pulled her blouse over her head, throwing it wildly to the floor. Then she unhooked her bra, letting that drop to the floor as well.
My cock began getting hard all over again as I observed the rich fullness of her breasts.
"Pretty nice tits, wouldn't you say?" my mother looked over at Terry and smiled.
"I'd say real nice."
"You really are a dear."
I was beginning to wonder what was going on with all this strange by-play between my mother and Terry. Could it be that my mother had a lesbian side?
I didn't know, but it sure seemed strange that she was giving my lovely girlfriend that much in the way of attention.
I watched as Mom angled quickly out of the micro mini, removing it, then slipping her panties down her legs.
My cock hardened some more as I observed my mother's blonde pubic mound, which matched her sparkling blonde hair.
I felt a tremendous itch accelerating within me as I observed my mother, looking naked and beautiful, walking ever so slowly towards the bed.
I liked the way that her tight ass-cheeks would wiggle as she moved ever closer to the bed, and she let her tits dance ever so gracefully as she walked.
She lowered her beautiful, sensuous frame downward toward the bed. She rolled over on the bed several times, then let her tongue slip inside Terry's mouth.
Suddenly a thought hit me. I had heard a few guys around school talking about the fact that Terry dug women almost as much as she did men. I had dismissed that conversation as nothing but ridiculous gossip, but the more I observed, the more I couldn't help but realize that it was fact.
Of course that wasn't what startled me the most. What really threw me was the fact that my own mother apparently liked making the scene with chicks.
I began thinking back, and then remembered that she had always, at one time or another, been very close to a very attractive woman. Sometimes it would be somebody a few years older that she, while on other occasions it would be somebody within her won age category-Could it be? I asked. Could those women have been lovers of hers? Now that I was seeing how quickly she took to Terry, I couldn't help but think that that was probably the case.
The tongues kept on wiggling against one another, and as they did, their bodies twisted and turned at the same time.
I watched the way that my mother eagerly manipulated her body, shifitng it forward, and allowing her tits to come into clashing contact with those of Terry.
The longer and more sharply that the breasts collided, the harder I found my cock becoming. I wanted to break loose with some more wild fucking, and it was just a question of when.
As soon as I got the chance, I though, I would be hopping on Terry again.
I kept watching the developing action. My mother assumed the initiative all the way. She removed her tongue dramatically from Terry's mouth, then let it drop down toward Terry's breasts.
With great authority, my mother began to work her tongue over Terry's left tit I liked the way that she tantalized her tit moving her tongue slowly over it for a few strokes, then dramatically stepping up the action and pumping her tongue around it more rapidly than before.
The action continued at a quickening level. Back and forth Penny kept driving her tongue with great zeal against her lover's breasts.
"Keep sucking my tits, oh, you're too beautiful, Penny. Keep working your tongue," Terry said. "Ah, what a woman you are. You're more woman, baby, than any woman I've ever fucked with. Keep sliding your tongue over my breasts. Ah, that's so good."
Penny worked her tongue from one breast over to the other, repeating the process, working the tongue slowly at first, then stepping up the pace and working it more swiftly.
She soon turned into a veritable buzz saw of activity, driving it at a quckening pace, sending it surgingly against her tit.
"Keep it going," Terry called out. "Ah, your tongue is too much. Keep sliding it. Ah, what great tongue action, Penny. Oh, honey, keep sucking. Ah, I love the sucking, darling."
She kept up the thorough tongue stroking until Terry found herself hotter than ever.
Penny dropped her tongue down dramatically between Terry's legs. She went to work on Terry's left thigh, which she alternately sucked and nibbled on.
The longer that the sucking and nibbling continued, the faster that Terry's body began to wiggle.
"Suck me, oh, suck me," Terry said.
She was very sensitive to every touch that Penny applied with her beautiful tongue. Penny was working her ever closer to climax.
I knew that my mother was doing. She wanted to get her to a certain level, then turn her tongue loose on her mound.
She worked thoroughly over one thigh, then the other, after which it was time for her to get into the pussy sucking.
"That's it, my love button, ah, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me," Terry exclaimed.
Mom reached out and began to nibble on Terry's clitoris. She was unable to withstand very much of that kind of brilliant sensation.
"Work your tongue over my pussy," she said. "I'll go off right now if you don't Come on and slide your tongue over it, honey. Ah, I want it. I need it. That's it. Oh, I like the way your tongue is working. Slide it over my snatch. Oh, the sensations are so good. Keep it up. Oh yes, how you're doing it."
While my mother worked her tongue over Terry's mound, displaying great thoroughness and attention with every stroke, she reached out with her right index finger and began probing it inside Terry's ass-hole.
"That's it. Oh, finger fuck me," Terry cried out exultantly. "I really like the movements. Oh, I really love it"
The finger kept on probing ever higher into Terry's hot ass. All the while Mom kept on driving her tongue.
Even though I had been startled at first to find out that my mother and Terry were hot for each other, I couldn't help but get increasingly hotter myself just watching all the action.
I finally reached down with my right hand and began to jerk on my throbbing penis. The sensations multiplied within me as I watched them go to work, enjoying the activity enormously.
"Keep up the finger fucking," Terry encouraged. "Oh, it feels so good when you plunge it high into my ass-hole. Come on and fling it even higher. All the way to my rectum, darling. Oh, all the way to my rectum."
Mom kept on drilling her. I couldn't help but admit that she seemed to know even more about pussy sucking than I did.
I liked the smooth fluidity of her strokes. She kept on plunging with her tongue, working it effectively as she moved her lover ever closer to climax.
"Come on and suck me," Terry called out impatiently.
Terry's body reacted sharply to every spinning tongue thrust that Mom put forward.
Her ass-cheeks were thrusting out of control, flipping back and forth as Mom turned on the coal, devoting everything that she could in the way of thrills to her lover.
While her tongue was briskly making steady contact and drilling Terry's snatch with piston-like precision, her finger stabbed deeper into her ass-hole.
A few well timed strokes later, she was unable to withstand any more sucking.
The juices began to spill out of Terry's pussy and into Mom's mouth.
Mom kept up the fervent finger fucking, keep it up until she finished her suck.
When she released her tongue from Terry's mound, she looked over at me and immediately spotted my mammoth hard-on.
"Hey, that's a good looking cock, dear," she told me.
I froze on the spot. Could it be that she was so wild she would want a piece of ass from me as well?
I didn't know, but I was certain of one thing. She was hornier that I had ever seen her, and was willing to do something in front of me that she hadn't done before, namely, fuck somebody.
Not only had she fucked, but she had gone down on a woman, whereas I previously had never been aware of her having sex with a woman.
She walked over toward me, standing next to me. Her breast did look great, so much so that I felt like reaching out and touching them.
She reached out with her fingers, allowing them to come into contact with my hot prick.
"Say, that's a nice looking dick," she said. "I really love running my fingers up and down it. It's a damned good looking stick. Oh, the longer that I finger it, the better that I like it."
While her fingers kept on maneuvering up and down my pecker, she reached out and slid her lips against mine.
The lips met with sharp impact, and as they remained pressed against one another, she stepped her finger action up even faster that before.
Her fingers' kept on maintaining themselves, exhibiting great determination as she pumped them up and down my long pecker.
"Ah, how good," I said.
"Yes, I really like your cock. Come on over here and just lie down, baby."
While Mom kept on guiding my cock, running her fingers up and down it, I walked toward the bed, stretching out on tip of it.
I tried to relax my body as best I could, but with all those stimulating movements running through my whole body, it sure as hell wasn't easy. As a matter-of-fact, it was damned well impossible.
"Suck my cock," I called out.
It shocked me when I considered the implications of what I was suggesting. I was asking my own mother to go down on me.
When I stopped to think about it, I found it damned shocking. But there I was, getting turned on with every thrusting finger stroke that she put forth.
Mom did a regular radar job with her fingers, pushing and pumping with everything she had, driving her fingers around my hard dick.
While the scorching contact continued, she moved her tongue downward, taking aim in the direction of my bulging prick.
"I know you want it," she laughed, "and you're going to get it."
"You're so sexy," Penny said as she reclined on the other side of the bed.
"When I see a hot cunt or a hard cock, then the fires start bristling," she said. "I really like fucking, baby. As a matter-of-fact, I live for fucking."
"I could sure tell that," Terry said.
"You'd better believe it, sweetheart."
I watched as her finger movements became more rapid than ever. She set a blistering pace, pumping up and down my dick, sliding her fingers along my blazing cock.
While the fingers of her right hand were working thoroughly up and down my instrument, she reached out and allowed the fingers of her other hand to slide against my balls.
She stroked them with great authority, causing me to become ever more excited.
She withdrew her fingers from my balls, then reached out and slipped her index finger high into my ass-hole.
With the first pumping movement, she plunged her finger high into my rectum.
"Ah, that's good," I sighed. "Oh, the finger fucking. I can see why Terry was going out of her gourd. It's just too much, honey. Your finger is just too much for me."
The steady pumping soon reduced me to a state of ecstatic joy. Back and forth she kept on with her pumping movements, and as she kept them up, I could feel the fires sweltering in my cock and balls.
"I know how to get my man ready for a good cock suck," Mom said.
"I couldn't be more ready."
"Wait till I sink my tongue against your thick flesh."
"I'm so hard, I can hardly take it. Come on and suck me."
"O.K., honey, just wait. When I turn my tongue loose, that's going to be it."
"Ah yes, dear. It sure is."
The emotions that were running through me were hard to explain. I would think about how great my mother was at what she was doing, then it would suddenly dawn on me that she was my mother, creating a complicated set of circumstances.
She leaned forward and let her tongue slide over the very tip of my cock. She teased and tit-
Mated it with her tongue, moving it at just the right level, seeing to it that she did not slide it too rapidly.
She maintained just the right momentum. She was teasing at that point, hoping to get me even hotter before she started to slide her tongue up and down the full length of my stick.
Her finger kept on plunging into my ass-hole. She drove it ever higher into my rectum, getting set to work her tongue over my cock.
"Suck me, suck me, suck me," I gasped.
She stepped up the action. Mom slid her tongue on the base of my cock. She was still working slowly but convincingly, letting every stroke sink in, pushing me ever closer to a passionate climax.
Her fingers kept stroking my balls, pushing me ever closer to that big moment when my juices would be flowing once more.
The restlessness within me continued to swell, and my cock was standing just as tall as it possible could. There was just no way for me to get any hotter without juicing.
"Suck me off," I called out with mounting impatience. "Ah, your tongue is too much, my dear. Come on and work it, oh, what a tongue you have. You're working it faster now, baby. I like that. Let's speed up the rhythm of the sucking. Ah, you're doing it. Come on, doll. Oh, suck my prick. God down on my prick, baby, send your tongue against it"
Her finger fucking reached a new level of intensity as she kept plunging the finger into my ass-hole, getting me all the more excited while she sucked on my long dick.
She was pushing me ever closer to the big moment, and the nervousness reached a new level. I mean, I was still thinking about the fact that she was my mother, and that kind of bothered me.
I knew that she liked fucking an awful lot and that she couldn't seem to get enough. Sometimes she would stay away for the whole night but I just never dreamed that she would be wild enough to burst into the house, go down on a girlfriend of mine, then go down on me.
With lightening authority, she registered her tongue up and down the full length of my prick. She stabbed relentlessly, her tongue constantly colliding with my flesh as she pushed me ever closer to climax.
Her finger penetrated ever deeper into my ass-hole, and as she drove it into me, she slid her tongue more quickly against my cock.
"Oh, I'm going to juice inside you," I said. "Get set to collect my joy drops. Ah, I'm itching. Oh, I'm itching in my balls. You're really bringing it out of me. Your sucking is too much. Ah, keep it up. Keep up the sucking."
A few blistering strokes later, the itchiness reached its most intense level.
The first few droplets began to spill out of my prick, and I could tell that a lot more would be coming.
I juiced voluminously, sending forth gushing rays of hot white cum.
She swallowed with everything she had, going after my prick juice with great determination.
She swallowed hard, not letting one drop get away.
Mom received her precious desserts, then decided to take a little bit of a rest.
She lay back and closed her eyes, and I got out of the bed. Just as I was beginning to put my clothes back on, she opened her eyes and looked at me.
"Don't be an ass-hole, Vince," she said.
"What do you mean, Mom?"
"I'm not through fucking you yet."
"You're not? I've gone off twice."
"I'll just see if I can't bring you around one more time."
"You're kidding. You want a third explosion?"
"Yes. I only had one. Your lovely friend had the other. I'd like to make you juice once more. I can't get enough of the precious gushing juice form a man's hot prick."
"You want to go down on me again?"
"You're damned right I do, honey baby."
"Hou about me?" Terry asked.
"I want plenty of you too, baby. As a matter-of-fact, I wish you'd get down between my legs and suck my pussy. It will get me that much hotter when I'm going down on Vince."
"I always did like combination action," Terry laughed.
"Then come on over here, Vince," Mom called out with impatience. "I want to get started right now."
I walked over toward the bed, sliding my frame into it.
I must admit that at that point my cock wasn't all that hard, which meant somebody had to do something to get it up there.
She reached out and began pumping her fingers up and down my stick.
"Go down on me," she called out to Terry. "That will get me more excited. I'm going to have my baby her slam his dick down my throat."
"So you want a throat fucking," Terry laughed.
"Of course I do. Can you blame me?"
"Hell no. It's a really erotic fuck."
"That's why I like it," she exclaimed calmly. "I don't like to fuck unless it's in the most erotic way imaginable, baby."
"You're such a groovy gal," Terry laughed.
Terry's fingers reached out and clasped Penny's ass-cheeks. She clutched them fervently while she got her tongue ready to go to work inside Penny's mound.
She buried her fingers with great intensity against Mom's ass-cheeks. She prepared to drive her tongue forward.
I could see that Terry would be delivering quite an onslaught.
She reached down and began to let her tongue slide around Mom's pussy.
With great enthusiasm she kept it up, working her tongue with startling eagerness.
I was startling to Mom, who was getting so intrigued by the sucking action that she hardly knew what to do. She could only take so much in the way of the kind of wild excitement.
While the tongue movements continued, I watched Mom pour the energies back into my prick. All it really took were a few well timed stroking movements and I was back to where I had orgasmed.
"Slide your prick into my mouth," she called out loudly. "I want a throat fuck, honey. Pretend like you're fucking a pussy. The only difference is that you're stabbing the thing in all the way to my mouth. Drive it all the way back to my throat. Stab it hard, sweetheart, stab it into my throat."
I plunged forward with everything that I had after she released her fingers from my cock.
For a moment the whole thing terrified me. I was throat fucking my mother. That seemed to be even more intimate that the act of her just plain going down on my prick.
I kept slamming my pecker inside her, driving it sturdily and ever more deeply into her mouth.
About the time that I plunged my dick against the base of her throat, I got so absorbed by what was happening that I felt I would be juicing very shortly.
I watched Mom's body twist and turn as she moved ever closer to climax, receiving the well timed tongue efforts of her lover Terry.
It was a three-way fuck like I wouldn't have believed possible. There was my girlfriend Terry, the beautiful chick that I had wanted so badly for so long, sticking her tongue ever deeper into my mother's passion pit.
And there I was, driving my dick ever deeper into Mom's mouth.
I pummeled her with everything that I had, throwing every bit of savage intensity into my stroking movements.
I drove ever closer, pushing my cock forward, driving myself to the point where I was about ready to shoot my juices inside her mouth.
A few moments later Mom released the juices from her pussy, spurting them into Terry's waiting mouth.
Terry digested every drop, then lifted her head and watched the rest of the fuck.
"Keep on slipping your cock into her, Vince. Fuck her mouth," Terry exclaimed.
I liked having the moral support of Terry behind me, and with great energy I kept on sending my booming cock deeper into Mom's mouth.
As I drove deeper and more relentlessly toward climax, I reached down with the fingers of both hands and let them twist around my mother's boobs.
I played with her tits, then sent my fingers into her nipples.
A few strokes later, I clutched her nipples hard and fast, watching as the first drops of juice shot out of the end of my cock.
I let my prick thunder even deeper into her, driving it to the base of her throat one last time as the stream of liquid spurted out of the end of my rod.
"Oh, what a cum, what a fuck," I called out. "You really drove it into her, honey," Terry said. "You can be damned proud."
"I am, honey," I said.
Down deep, though, I was still troubled about the whole thing. like I said, she was still my mother.
But the calmest person of all was Mom, who resolutely sucked out every drop of my jissum. When it came to sucking cock, and receiving juices, she was like a human suction cup. There was just no way to stop her.
SUMMARY
Vincent's story was so fascinating that I had to probe a good deal further.
"Did you ever have sex with your mother after that one episode which you just described?" I asked.
"Did you really think we would stop after that?" he laughed.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you had," I explained. "For one basic reason. You admitted that you were more or less split down the middle. Even though you were enjoying your abilities in bed, you still felt that perhaps what you were doing was wrong."
"Yes, I felt that way for a while, but she snapped me out of it."
"I wish you would explain how she did it."
"I'll be happy to. She started sucking me all the time. Whenever we'd be alone in the house and she felt like screwing, she'd put on some kind of sexy pink negligee, or maybe even just her panties and bra, and would wait for me to make a move. Usually I'd start squirming around, afraid to admit what I was feeling."
"Then how did you make contact with her?"
"That's just the thing," Vince said. "She wouldn't take no for an answer. Maybe I would just sit there for a while, but she would go right to work. She would sit down beside me if I happened to be on the sofa, or maybe even kneel down in front of me if I was in a chair. She'd start pointing to my cock and telling me that I was only lying to myself if I thought that I didn't want her. I'd tell her that I did want her, but that it just wasn't right She would laugh at that and before I knew it, she would be sucking me.
"Have you ever done anything other than let her perform fellatio on you?"
"Yeah, we do one other thing aside from cock sucking."
"Would you kindly relate to me what that is?"
"You are getting personal," Vince grinned.
"Yes, I am, because it is my business. I want this story to be as complete as possible, since it's all going into print"
"I get you," he laughed. "Sure, I got down on her too. Sometimes we sixty-nine, and that really can be fantastic."
"You never did penetrate your mother's vagina with your cock?"
"She said we ought to draw the line on that, with nothing more than cock sucking and pussy sucking. No she figured that was good enough.
She thinks it would be going too far to do the other. I guess maybe she's right, but I would be glad to do anything with her."
"You'd be happy to penetrate her with your penis?"
"I've throat fucked her, haven't I?"
"When did it stop bothering you? I mean, having sex with your mother?"
"After she acclimated me to it. She sucked me off so many times in just about a week or two, that I soon began to figure that I had some weird hang-ups. I decided just to enjoy it, and since then everything has been just beautiful."
"Do you ever intend to stop having sex with your mother?"
"Maybe when I get married," he laughed. "Although, I don't know. If I married somebody like Terry, for instance, somebody that was really in the know, then I'd keep on having sex with her. Why the hell shouldn't I? And of course, if I married a chick who dug women as well as men, then I can almost assure you that we'd keep on having sex. There would be no other way. Not when Mom digs women as much as she does."
I recognized that Vincent, at least for the present moment, left very little hope for change.
His mother had systematically won him over to the point where he was willing to engage in virtually any kind of sex with her.
As a result, my efforts were absolutely futile, at least in terms of trying to change him at that particular time. So I gave up even trying.
My subject of Case Two, Mary J., was in a different category from Vincent and his mother.
Whereas Vincent and his mother, after becoming enamored of one another, failed to see any moral problems in terms of what they were doing, Mary was finally able to recognize the tragic ramifications of her actions.
Mary's case makes for fascinating reading', in that she had started out as anything but an aggressive woman, but, on the basis of changing circumstances in her life, she turned into a completely different type of individual.
The intelligent reader should discern the nature of the often radical, almost always fundamental, changes that occur with individuals regarding sexual matters.
I recall a brilliant psychiatrist's remarks over cocktails with me recently.
"What needs to be done is to get to a sexually confused person before all the traumatic soul searching commences," he revealed.
"I'm a little confused," I responded. "I thought that seal searching was the primary recommended means of coming to grips with psychological problems."
"It depends on the kind of soul searching," my wise friend quickly rejoined. "Confusion often enters the picture and people have a tendency quite often to psyche themselves out which, of course, muddies the waters greatly."
CASE TWO
Mary J. was a beautiful, willowy, dark-haired woman of thirty-five.
She came into my office in a highly troubled state, and I, from the outset, did my utmost to make her feel at ease.
Gradually, through my painstaking efforts, I succeeded in calming her down a bit. After I had succeeded in that endeavor, she began to talk in a highly candid fashion.
The longer that she revealed her story, the more relaxed she became. It was as if she needed badly to express herself to someone, and I just happened to be the right person at the right time.
Following is her story:
My husband died in an accident at the plant where he worked.
We were living just outside Chicago then, and I was so crushed by his death that I just couldn't stand it. I had gone with my husband from the time we were both in high school, and I had such fond memories of the city. But they were all linked to my husband, and every time I would drive down a familiar street, or see a familiar person, the memories of my husband would be all too strong.
I realized that I heeded to leave Chicago, so I took my young son Tim with me to California.
We settled in southern California, and I got a job working as a secretary days. During the evenings I went to school, hoping that I could pick up my teaching credentials.
It had been my desire to become a teacher, but I abandoned the effort at one point, thinking that I ought to just devote myself to being a wife and mother.
But with my husband gone, T felt a compelling need to get into teaching.
I got my credentials, went to work as an instructor, and was hoping to meet the right man. But it just never seemed to happen. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I was just a little bit too particular for my own good.
There were a number of men who wanted to get serious with me. I had a few affairs along the way, but when it came time to get down to brass tacks, I just couldn't do it. The man just never seemed to be the right one.
Perhaps because I loved my husband so much and I was mentally comparing them to him.
At any rate, I finally ran into a highly charming man who was a gym coach. He coached the baseball team and was a very athletic fellow. His name was Dale, and we hit it off beautifully from the very beginning.
It all started one day when we wound up across the same table from one another in the cafeteria. He started talking to me about how much he liked to remain physically fit, and I explained that I just never seemed to get around to taking up any kind of exercise, even though I should.
Out of the blue he suggested that we go out to play tennis the next day.
"But I don't know anything about tennis," I told him.
"That's alright, Mary. I'll teach you."
"Well, I guess I could," I said.
We started playing tennis on a regular basis, and, largely through his efforts, I actually became pretty good at it Or at least what I would term passable
But the big thing about our involvement was not so much the tennis games as what they ultimately led to.
One afternoon after playing a grueling two sets of tennis under the hot sun, I walked out of the women's dressing room. The cool, refreshing shower had made me feel on top of things once more, but as I walked out to the parking lot to meet Dale, who was standing in front of his Toyota, I could sense a certain restlessness about him.
We got into the car, and Dale began to drive away.
"What's the trouble, dear?" I asked. "What makes you think anything is the trouble?"
"You're quiet. I can sense that something is troubling you. What is it."
"I guess you are."
"What do you mean?"
"I've played it like a gentleman too long," he explained. "I need you, honey. Let's go to a motel right now."
"What about your place?"
"I live in a neighborhood where people are real snoopy," he told me. "It's an apartment, and there are people all around me. I don't like to take anybody there for sex purposes."
"I suppose we could go to a motel."
"You don't know what it would mean to me," Dale exclaimed.
We got to the motel and we registered. It seemed so weird standing there and registering with Dale as Mr. and Mrs.
We took a room, which was, for the most part, completely unadorned. But it had the one thing that we needed, a good solid bed to romp around in.
As soon as we got into the room, Dale locked the door then drew the drapes tightly shut.
Only tiny glimmers of light shone through as we began to undress.
Dale tore off his shirt and undershirt, after which he looked over at me.
"I've got to undress you," he said.
He darted over toward the bed, taking me in his powerful arms and "driving his tongue eagerly inside my mouth.
His tongue clashed against mine with exquisite precision. I couldn't get over how eager he was to exchange tongue strokes with me. His tongue would wind around mine with great excitement, and as it did, he would let his arms lock increasingly tighter around my body.
While the tongues kept on merging, I found my pussy growing so torrid that it was unbelievable. Dale was reawakening fires within me that had been lying dormant ever since my husband died. Even though I had had sex with other men, I had never been put on this particular pedestal of excitement since the death of my husband.
The tongues kept on steadily converging, and by the time that Dale removed his from my mouth, I was panting a good deal.
He reached behind me and undid my blouse, pulling it off with one swift tug. He then took good care of my bra, tossing it aside and running his fingers over my breasts.
Every movement that he put forward was swift and decisive. Dale knew precisely what he wanted to do. And he knew just how to get me excited.
When he released his fingers from my breasts, he let them move down toward my skirt He unzipped it then reached out and tugged at my panties, which he pulled off.
When he finished removing my panties, he reached out with his left hand and massaged my pussy.
Dale ran his fingers over my pussy, titillating me with every sharp stab. His breathing became harder than ever before. He was getting carried away with every stroke, and as he kept it up, I was getting turned on quite a bit myself.
I felt a keen itch in my snatch, and his swift, circulatory movements swept me away in a blaze of passion.
"Play with my cunt," I called out "Oh yes, Dale honey, I love it so much, keep going."
Every bit of spirit in me was revived. The feelings that had been lying dormant for so long suddenly reappeared.
Every time that his fingers brushed against my snatch, I became that much more overwhelmed.
The fingers kept pressing and probing, and I found myself pushing ever closer to orgasm.
"Ah, I'm getting so hot in my snatch," I told Dale.
"Just hang on, baby, because I'm going to suck your pussy."
"Go to work, doll. Oh, do I need it."
Dale reached out and clasped his fingers around my thighs. He gripped them tightly, then slipped his tongue down between my legs, allowing it to slide over my burning snatch.
He started slowly, but couldn't withhold his passionate feelings. He wanted to work things at a rhythmic pace, and before I knew it, he was sending his tongue spearing swiftly over my mound.
"Drive your tongue," I gasped. "Work it over my pussy, sweetheart. Oh, drive it in there. Suck my snatch. Oh, come on and suck it, darling, oh, I want you to suck it, I really need it. Oh, I need it so bad."
He drove his tongue at the maximum speed possible, sending it surging against my mound. He worked with great conviction, wanting to bring me off, and the longer that his tongue slid around my pussy, the closer that I found myself drawing to that big moment.
"Just a few more strokes," I called out, "run your tongue over my snatch. Oh, I really want it, baby, I really do."
A few strokes later, I braced myself. I reached out and clutched his head, holding on ever so tightly as the juices began to spurt out of my pussy.
"Ah, they're going, they're going," I called out "I'm juicing, honey, go after my hot juices. Oh, what a nice warm meal I've got for you. This is wonderful, oh, dear, it really is."
Now that he had succeeded in sucking me to climax, Dale was set to move on to the next stage of the action.
He reached out and played with my buttocks for several moments. I liked the firm manner in which he gripped them, plunging his fingers so deeply inside them, entrenching them as he squeezed for all he was worth.
"I like that," I sighed. "Keep playing with my butt, honey. Oh, you really know how to make a girl happy, darling."
He played with my ass-cheeks for a little while, then gave forth a loud pronouncement:
"I've got to fuck you."
"Of course you do. I can see by the size of your cock and the way that your body is trembling just how badly you want to give it to me."
"Ah yes, very bad.
"How do you want to do it, baby?"
"Get on all fours, sweetheart. I'd like to jam it to you dog style."
"That really does sound fascinating."
"Have you ever been fucked that way before?"
"One time, a long time ago, when my husband and I were both very young."
"You're very young now, darling."
"I'm feeling younger all the time, thanks co you, honey."
"That's all it takes, baby. A little bit of the right type of lovemaking, and a person feels very young."
"I know. So come on and fuck me."
"Get down on all fours and I'll start."
I nodded, turning over and getting down on all fours, spreading my legs just enough to where he would have no difficulty slipping his cock into my pussy.
Before Dale penetrated me with his long dick, he reached out and played with my ass-cheeks for a little while longer.
I liked his fluid movements, and I wondered if his cockstabs would be every bit as graceful.
While his fingers continued maneuvering around my ass-cheeks, he heaved his cock forward, plunging it into my pussy.
He entered me with one piercing stab, letting out a grunt as he drove his cock inside my snatch.
"Oh, damned but you're tight," he exclaimed. "I'm going to grind my prick into your mound, baby. Oh yes, that's it, just tighten those legs a little. Tense a little, honey. That makes you a tighter target."
I clasped my legs, splaying them as he shoved his prick ever deeper into my pussy.
Back and forth he plunged, sending it high and hard into my snatch, maintaining a relentless pace. He kept on driving it in there, slamming it effectively, moving ever closer to a dramatic orgasm.
"Sink it into me," I called out. "Oh honey, you really know how to do it."
"I can't get enough of you," he gasped. "My balls are on fire. There's just no way that I can get enough of you, darling."
"Keep stabbing me."
"Oh yes. Ah, oh, baby, it's great."
His fingers kept on working around my ass-cheeks and legs as he drilled his cock into my mound. The longer that he pumped, the faster in turn I rotated my body.
I began to wiggle my buttocks, enjoying the bodily contact as his prick kept on stabbing me with rapidity, sliding higher and deeper inside my blazing mound.
"Send it into me," I called out. "You really know the strokes, baby. Keep up your stroking.
Oh, drive your prick into my pussy. Ah, darling, come on, I need it, oh, I need it, oh, baby, that's it"
He turned his fingers loose on my thighs, clutching them for dear life as he kept slamming his prick repeatedly into my pussy.
A few strokes later I recognized that he couldn't possibly keep up his pace any more.
He was twisting and turning, sending his throbbing tool into me, driving it piercingly into my mound. I couldn't take any more, and at that point, I started juicing.
"Ah, yes, I'm there," I called out. "Keep hammering me, baby. Keep sending that spear of yours inside my mound, darling."
"I can feel the juice, baby. That really turns me on. It gets me more excited than ever."
"Doesn't that feel good?"
"It does. How about my cock?"
"That never felt better," I admitted. "Just keep ramming it. Oh, keep sending it into my pussy."
He resolutely pumped his penis into my mound, maintaining his brisk attack, driving forward as he pushed that much closer to climax.
"Just a few more strokes, that's all I need," he said. "Just hang in there, honey."
"It's for sure that I'm not going anywhere," I laughed. "I live for your hot strokes, darling.
Keep on sending them into me."
"Oh yes."
A few sturdy cock thrusts later, the juices began to spray out of his long, unrestrained prick.
I felt the streams of thick white liquid spurting into my mound, and it made me feel good all over.
"Ah, keep it up, keep pumping," I said.
It was a fuck unlike anything that had happened to me since my husband had died.
Suddenly I was feeling like a different woman. I felt good all over, knowing that this handsome man had done such a good job on me.
He couldn't wait to kiss my lips after he had finished fucking me.
"This is the start of something truly beautiful," he said.
"Tell me more."
"Oh, I'm not going to tell you as much as I'm going to show you."
"I'm not surprised to hear you say that. You definitely strike me as a man of action."
"You're damned right, baby. My cock is itchy every time that I'm around you."
"I'll just bet that it stays itchy most of the time."
"It does. As a matter-of-fact, I'd be good for another orgasm if you'd suck my cock."
"So that's what you're angling for," I laughed.
"Reach out and put your fingers to work on it"
"Alright, my dear. I will."
A triumphant smile swept across his face as I reached out with both hands and began to massage his lengthy organ.
He lay back on the bed, stretching his legs while my fingers worked up and down his cock.
"You're really doing the job," he nodded. "I'm so proud of you, baby."
"You like my finger action?"
"You can start working them a little faster," he said. "Work them briskly, baby. That really does something for me."
"Whatever you say."
"I don't want to go either too slow or too fast Let's just take things as they come."
"That's what we're talking about aren't we?"
"What's that?"
"Cum. Your cum."
"Do you like swallowing jissum?"
"It depends on whose jissum it is. As far as your jissum is concerned, you're damned right. I love the stuff."
"That's what I like to hear."
"I'm looking forward to sucking you."
"Just massage my dick a little while longer," he said with a tone of mounting urgency. "That's all I really need. Just a little attention in my prick. You just play with my cock for a while, doll, and you're going to get some nice surprises. But I like the finger action."
My fingers kept on sliding up and down his cock. I worked the fingers of the left hand around his prick after a while, then allowed the right hand to gravitate around his balls.
I reached out and tugged on his testicles, keeping up the pace as I enjoyed the spirited contact.
I took the initiative, creating some brisk momentum in the form of my finger stabs. Up and down I kept on pumping his cock, and as I did, I played with his balls at the same time.
"Come on and suck me," he said. "I need sucking. I want you to start working your tongue around my dick. Oh, honey, start sucking my cock. Work your tongue around the tip of it. I want you to really start going to work, darling."
"Brace yourself, because I'm going to give you quite a suck."
"I'm all ready."
"That's good, because so am I."
I put my tongue to work on the tip of his cock, working it slowly. I could see the waves of excitement sweeping into Dale's body.
He began to quiver, and his breath was reduced to a series of puffy gasps as I kept up my activity level.
While my tongue toyed with the tip of his prick, flicking around it, I reached out with my right hand and played with his balls.
I liked nothing better than controlling the action at both ends, sucking him while my fingers were stroking his testicles.
I shifted my tongue from the tip of his prick down to his balls. When I began to suck his testicles, his whole body felt the sexual tension that I was creating.
I kept up the balls sucking until he could take it no more.
"Go back to my cock," he exclaimed. "Oh, I really need you to suck me. Come on, darling, work your tongue. Oh, I need you to work your tongue over my dick. Suck my cock, darling."
I responded quickly, working my tongue up and down the full length of his organ. While I did so, I worked the fingers of both hands around his balls.
Nimbly I kept scraping his balls while I sucked, and pushed him closer to where I wanted him.
At one point his body tensed and he heaved a loud sigh.
"I'm shooting, I'm going to fuck your mouth," he exclaimed.
After that, all I heard was a gasp, at which juncture the stream of white juice began to enthusiastically tumble forth from his spurting cock and into my waiting mouth.
I gobbled like crazy, hungrily devouring every droplet of cum, seeking to swallow everything that spilled out of his cock.
It was a sex session unlike anything I had ever experienced since the death of my husband, and I finally began to feel as if I had found the right man.
Things went well for a few weeks. He would meet with me at clandestine spots, usually motels on the outer fringes of town.
"Why all this mystery?" I asked.
"Remember, we're teachers, my dear," he replied.
"But why can't we do it at your place?"
"Like I said, that's real rough. There are too many nosey people around."
I couldn't understand the fact that he had never once invited me to his place. I generally chose to think about the wonderful aspects of our relationship, not devoting myself to skeptical analysis of things that I didn't understand, however.
All I knew was that I was having the time of my life, and I was confident that Dale would eventually become my husband.
One afternoon, as I sat by myself in the cafeteria, one of the older instructors from the school, a woman by the name of Claire, asked to sit down with me.
"I have something I have to discuss with you in the strictest confidence," she began, a sober expression filling her face.
"Sit down, Claire. What is the problem?"
"It's about you, honey. I hate to see a nice girl like you get hurt."
"By what?" I laughed. "As a matter-of-fact, everything has been going beautiful for me lately."
"That's what I mean. It's Dale. You think quite a bit of him, don't you?"
"You'd better believe I do."
"You'd better get away from him as fast as you can."
"But why?"
"It isn't good for you. It just isn'. "
"He's been wonderful to me."
"He's also married," she exclaimed. I felt like I had been hit by a thunderbolt. "He's what?"
"That's right," she nodded. "I've been seeing you around school with him quite a bit, and, well, you know how word spreads. There are just too many gossips around. They've been talking about the fact that you two have been quite a team together. Well, I just don't like to see somebody like you get hurt. I know for a fact he's married, and he has done a lot of playing around on the side."
"I can hardly believe it."
"Has he ever taken you to his house?"
"No. He told me he had an apartment, and that there are too many nosey people around."
"That's a good one," she laughed. "He lives in a tract home just a few miles from here. He's married and has three children."
I was so stunned, I hardly knew what to say. I excused myself, getting up from the table.
"I'm sorry, dear. I wouldn't hurt you for anything. I was just trying to alert you."
"I know that," I replied. "Thanks for telling me.
That afternoon, following the final class, I marched right over to Dale's office.
Our conversation was short and to the point. I asked him right out if what Claire had told me was true, only I didn't tell him where I received the information.
"Yeah, it's true," he finally admitted. "I had a feeling you might have a little of the prude in you, honey, and for that reason I shouldn't tell you. But now that you know, why should anything change?"
"Everything's changed," I said, getting up and starting to leave the room.
"Come back here, honey. Let's talk about this like intelligent adults."
"There's nothing to discuss," I said. "We're through, and that's it"
If there's one thing I never was and never would be, it would be a home breaker. I had been looking to Dale for one thing, and he, quite apparently, had been looking to me for a completely different reason.
I wanted a marriage and responsibilities that went with it, whereas all he apparently was concerned about was having some sex.
After the relationship with Dale painfully ended, I was in the dumps. I didn't feel like going out or doing anything.
The one person who was around me the most, and recognized that something was wrong, was my wonderful fourteen year old young son Tim.
He was a sensitive but strong young man, and whenever he sense that I was in a depression for one reason or another, I could always count on him to be there to help me.
The more that I saw of him under these conditions of great strain, the stronger my attraction for him became.
One evening I found myself admiring him as he stood in a pair of tight jeans.
It had been a long time since I had had any kind of sex, and it quite frankly bothered me. I felt a strong urge, and didn't quite know how I was going to satisfy it
The longer that I looked at my handsome son, the more appealing he appeared to become.
I got up and impulsively walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.
I stood before the mirror, watching myself as I removed my pantsuit, then stood in my panties and bra.
My fingers were shaking quite a bit as I unstrapped my bra, then placed it on top of the dresser.
My breasts were firm and beautiful, and I wondered just what my son would do if he ever saw them exposed in all their naked glory.
I slipped my fingers down toward my panties. I slid the panties down my legs, then stepped out of them.
I placed my panties also on top of the dresser, then walked over toward the bed.
I lay down in the bed and began to think some more about Tim.
My thoughts about him became such paramount importance, that I couldn't shake them from my mind. I finally reached down between my legs and began to finger my pussy.
I worked my fingers stirringly against my mound until I finally juiced. When I turned my fingers loose from my furry and wet mound, I wondered what I ought to do about my son.
"Darling, can you come in here please?" I found myself blurting out.
Tim no doubt thought it a strange request, but soon I heard the sounds of footsteps.
"Did you say you wanted me to come in here?" he asked, wanting to make certain before he made his move.
"That's right, dear. I'd like for you to come in here."
My heart beat with a sense of nervous anticipation as he opened the door and observed me lying in bed totally nude.
"My God, Mom, you're naked," he said.
"Come in here and close the door."
Tim gulped, unable to adjust quickly to what was happening. But he obediently stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him.
"Come over here, darling, and kiss me," I said.
"Mom, you're naked."
"Do I look beautiful this way?"
"You've got a gorgeous body."
'That's good," I smiled. "I'm glad that you noticed. Come on over here."
He walked over toward the bed, easing his body inside it
He looked at me for several moments, gulped a couple of times, then reached out and kissed my lips.
It was a tender kiss, one that was dominated by uncertainty. But I wasn't about to let a kiss like that pass without me supplying some initiative.
So I leaned my head forward, generating some impact of my own as our lips locked with great zeal.
They continued to remain firmly pressed for quite a few moments, and as they did, I reached out and ran my fingers through Tim's hair.
The kiss loosened Tim up quite a bit, and after I released my lips from his, I looked at him and exclaimed:
"I wish you'd kiss my breasts, darling."
Once again he was only too happy to do what I suggested. He let his head drop, permitting his lips to collide with my left breast.
His lips plunged against my breast once, then twice.
"Move on to the other breast," I suggested.
Once more Tim was quick to respond, allowing his lips to collide with my other breast.
By that time my whole body was in a state of trembling anxiety. I was all set to go all the way with him. My hunger was increasing with every passing minute.
"Kiss my pussy," I finally called out.
He looked at me with uncertainty. He scratched his head, then contemplated the move for a few more seconds.
"Do you really think it's right for me to get that intimate with you?" Tim asked.
"I need it darling. If you only knew how bad I needed it. Don't you like me?"
"I love you more than anything."
"Then please do what I said."
"Yes, Mom."
With obedience he puckered up his lips and let them come into steady contact with my pussy.
His lips collided with my hot, wet cuntal petals once, then twice and then finally a third time.
All the while he was heating up to the point where I needed his tongue inside me.
"Slip your tongue in my slit," I begged. "I need you in my precious mound. I need for you to suck my snatch, honey. Ah, baby, do I ever need it."
It seemed as if, by kissing my pussy, it broke whatever barrier had existed between us prior to that time.
He slipped his tongue against my snatch and went to work briskly. He worked at a swift pace, delivering the strokes with solid impact, getting me close to orgasm, after the very first few thrusts.
"I like that, dear. Work your tongue," I called out. "Ah, what a pussy sucker you are. I knew you would be good. I knew it was just a question of getting you started. Ah, what movements. Keep your tongue working. Oh, keep up a blistering pace, dear. Come on and slide your tongue around my mound. Drive it, baby, oh, I really want you to drive it."
My legs kicked back and forth and my buttocks wiggled resoundingly as he kept up his sucking, stroking my hot pussy, pushing me ever closer to the threshold of orgasm.
While his tongue worked with great dispatch, I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair. I wanted to give him every bit of support I could while he was keeping up those fervent movements.
A few strokes later I was off, and it gave me a feeling of great pride to observe him going after my pussy juices.
When he removed his tongue from me, he looked at me in puzzlement, wondering what I would propose next.
I decided to go on a little investigating mission of my own, reaching out with my right hand and quickly unzipping his trousers.
I reached inside his trousers, yanking his cock out of his shorts, then running my fingers up and down the full length of his pecker.
He couldn't help but get hard just from all of the various forms of activity that we had been engaging in, and as he sat there on the edge of the bed, I knew that I would get him to do whatever I wanted him to. He had been loyal up to that point, and he would continue in the same fashion.
I stroked him in the same effective manner that I had stroked Dale, and with the same results. Tim practically melted in my grasp, and it felt good to know that I was controlling his responses by way of my steady finger efforts.
I kept on pumping, drilling my fingers up and down his long dick.
He finally began to loosen up, feeling less tension as he received my vigorous efforts.
"Do you like the hand job?" I asked him.
"It feels so wonderful. It makes me feel like some kind of a caged animal. I just need to break loose."
"I'm going to give you that chance, after I've played with your cock for a little bit"
"Ah, what movements. You're going even faster than before."
"Of course I am. You will like it, and I like what I'm doing."
"Yes, I like it too. Just keep your fingers twisting over my cock. I really like it."
I kept letting my fingers travel up and down Tim's blazing prick.
I enjoyed touching the smooth, warm skin, and my heart began to beat rapidly as I kept up my movements.
Every time that I would reach down and tug at Tim's ball, holding them tightly, he would keep squirming as he lay there on the bed, totally overcome by what I was doing.
I suppose that if I had stopped even for a moment to consider the wisdom of what I was doing, I would have stopped. After all, it was nothing that I really had much reason to be proud of.
There I was, seducing my own son, and enjoying every stimulating moment.
Up and down I pumped, and soon I could see him becoming more intense than ever. His body stiffened as he heaved a loud sigh.
"I feel like I'm going to juice," he said.
"Then I'll turn loose."
"I really want to fuck you."
"Yes. You're sure ready for it."
I had gotten so worked up that the guilt feelings had been put in the background, at least for the moment, so I removed my fingers from his dick, stretching out in the middle of the bed.
I lay comfortably on my back, spreading my legs, then preparing for his first cock onslaught
"Pump it into me," I said, "I need it, baby."
"Get set," he gasped.
I could still see a little something of a troubled expression on his faca, and I was doing my best to see to it that he completely relaxed.
I shoved my body up to meet his prick. I wanted to show him my pussy, to entice him all the more to start thrusting his big dick into my mound.
"Shove it in there," I cried out, "plant that prick into my pussy. Oh, darling, do I ever need your thrusting movements. Come on and tear me up with your long stick. I need that hot pecker, , that big spear. Come on and drive it into me. Come on and slash me with it."
He pumped his cock forward, entering me with one stiff forward thrust.
The very second that he entered my mound, my body began to twist and turn in instinctive reaction to what he was doing.
My ass-cheeks were curling and twisting as he kept it up, driving ever deeper, pumping and stabbing for all he was worth.
I was determined to give him everything that I could in the way of support, so I let my butt wiggle. I let it wiggle at a good steady pace, recognizing that it would turn him on all the more.
"Keep plunging," I called out "Go ahead and drive your prick into my mound. Ah, honey, keep up the pumping."
Tim reached out and let his fingers go to work on my ass-cheeks. I liked the way that he squeezed them. He was really taking charge of things now as he kept on relentlessly into my mound, pushing it ever deeper, plunging ever closer to climax.
Tim's breath was coming in short gasps as he removed his fingers from my ass-cheeks and moved them down to my thighs.
Tim's jolting stabs came like sparks of radar. They radiated through my whole body as he continued jolting and pumping.
His fingers held on tightly to my thighs.
"I'm going to juice inside you," he called out happily. "It isn't going to take me much longer, dear. Ah, do I want it. Do I want you. Oh, what a tight cunt you've got."
"You really like fucking it, sweetheart?"
"It feels so damned tight. Am I ramming my prick into it."
"Oh yes, you certainly are."
"Hang on, baby."
"I'm hanging on for dear life. I'm pumping with every stroke you give me."
"I see that you are. Ah, that's absolutely great, baby."
A few strokes later he juiced, sending his hot white liquid into my pussy.
My whole body came unglued when the juices sprayed. It shook, after which my juices began to spray as well.
It was a wonderful experience, an exhilarating one, and I'll never forget it
We started having sex regularly after that, and we've been enjoying it off and on ever since.
But I still can't help feel a tremendous degree of guilt about what I did. I really wish I could get out of it now, even though I enjoy having sex with Tim. It makes me feel bad to think that he is my son, and that I've exposed him to sex with me.
The last few weeks I've tried to talk him out of having sex, but he won't have any part of it. It's weird, because in the beginning, I was the aggressor, but now he's acclimated to it and he won't seem to take no for an answer.
I just wish that I could find a way out of this thing. But my will power isn't very strong. I find myself fervently wanting him.
Many times I'll be lying in bed and I get so hot just thinking about him that I'll start fingering my snatch. Most of the time, I get up from the bed and just walk into his room, looking at him.
On many of those occasions he'll wake up, then invite 'me into bed with him. Then I'll jump under the sheets and we go to town with some hot fucking.
I guess you'd have to say I'm very much in a trap. I don't seem to know how-to work my way out of it.
SUMMARY
I knew that I had to instill in Mary J. a greater feeling of responsibility than she presently held.
"You say that you deeply regret having gotten involved with your son," I said.
"I certainly do. I wish I could do something about it"
"Did it ever occur to you that it's your conduct that is really responsible not only for creating this relationship, but for prolonging it as well?"
"No, I hadn't thought of it so much that way, but now that you've said it, I guess you're right."
"It isn't all that unusual that you'd run away from the truth. It's something we all do from time to time. It's very easy in this particular type of situation. You see, you do enjoy the sex with him very much, and I believe there's another reason why you continue to involve yourself with him as well."
"What could that be?"
"The reason is that you don't want to go out and attempt to start a relationship with another man."
"You really think that's it?"
"I think that's a large part of it," I told her. "The reason why you don't, in my estimation, is that you've been hurt a couple of times. The husband that you deeply loved died, then a man that you were beginning to look on in the same manner as your dead husband disappointed you."
"Yes, you're right about that," she said. "I am really having to agree with you. It's always tough for a person to have to face the facts in something like this, just as you said. I am kind of afraid of going out and meeting another man."
"I really think if you made an effort and met somebody that this abiding need that you feel for your son would vanish."
"You know, it's entirely possible that you're right."
"I think you should at least make the effort, don't you?" I looked at her closely.
"Yes, you're right. I should definitely make that effort. And I will."
"That's good. I'm glad that you are willing to make an adjustment in that direction. It will certainly help your present situation. I'm confident of that. As for your desire toward having sex with your son, another reason why you've been unable to stop having sex with him, is that you haven't ever taken a hard and fast position. You would talk to him about it, but I have a hunch that you were anything but firm in the way that you communicated with him."
"You're right. I really wasn't."
"That's what I mean. I think that if you ever made him recognize his true responsibilities, and that it was terribly wrong for you to get involved in that type of activity, that would make a big difference. I think that it would be easier for him to accept his position, and much easier for you to accept yours as well."
"You might be right again. Yes, you probably are," she nodded
"I suggest that the first thing when you get home, you have a talk with him. It's terrible when people put things off. You see, it makes it all that much harder to get to the bottom of things."
"You know, I'll admit it I've done a lot of putting off with Tim, and it doesn't help things one bit"
"I don't suppose that it would. It really never does. So once you get to have a talk with him, I think you'll get a tremendous feeling of relief. And once that happens, I think it will be much more easy for you to go out and make a fervent effort to meet other men. You might be surprised at just how quickly you can resolve your entire problem."
"I'm not quite as optimistic as you are," she laughed, a little nervously, "but I'm willing to try. I think that everything you have said makes sense."
"Give it a try, Mary. I think you are going to be pleased with the results of your efforts."
"I truly hope so," she said sincerely, "because I wouldn't want to do anything to hurt my son."
Mary left my office. I didn't hear from her for the next two weeks.
She called me one afternoon, asking in a somewhat excited tone if she could come in to see me.
I received her a few minutes later, after which she told me that she had followed my advice concerning what I suggested as a means of resolving her problem with her son.
"How did it work out?" I asked.
"Oh, very well," she said. "I told my son he really needed to develop contacts with people in his own age category. You know, last weekend he went to a dance at school, and he met the cutest, sweetest young girl. He even brought her home and introduced her to me. I was so happy. He's a very young boy, and it probably will never get serious between those two, although you never know. The important thing is that he's got a girlfriend of his own age, and he feels pretty good about it. There's no longer this driving urge on his part to jump into bed with me."
"That's good. I'm very glad to hear that," I smiled.
"But that's just a portion of it," she said. "There's more to tell."
"Please proceed."
"I have been going out too. You know, I haven't met anybody that I feel like getting serious about, but I am having a good time. I just wanted to tell you that I fell so good about it. It's great to know that you can go out and experience some pressure-free dates, just meeting some nice people and sharing a few laughs."
"Of course you can. There's no need to regard every relationship as a life or death matter. You're a young woman who possesses a good deal of attractiveness, so I don't think you have so much to worry about. Just keep your cool, enjoy yourself, and I believe that things will work out."
"You know, that's really what I wanted to tell you," she smiled braodly, "I wanted to tell you that I believe that the thing will work out"
A few moments later she left, and I couldn't help but feel tremendously happy for Mary J. She had followed my advice, asserted herself, and had found her way out of the wilderness.
Whereas Mary J. was able to work out her problems, the subject of Case Three, Rita L., is truly a tragic one.
Rita is the type of woman who thrives on male attention, and nothing that she does could be equated with moral conduct
Her concern is solely satisfying her own enormous sexual and ego needs.
CASE THREE
At thirty-six years of age, Rita L. looked a good deal younger, what with sparkling honey blonde hair and her dazzling youthful figure.
In addition to her abundance of physical charms, which could be expected to dazzle any discerning male, she also had a cheerful buoyancy about her. She liked to laugh a good deal, and with her laughter and buoyancy one got the impression that she was the type of person who would remain eternally youthful.
But despite the positive attributes that I mentioned above, Rita was at bottom a highly immoral, depressing type of individual.
What depressed any person with a solid moral foundation was her amorality, the fact that nothing to her was sacred, except perhaps herself.
Her startling story follows:
After my old man walked out on me, I decided that I was going to spend the rest of my life living for kicks.
What the hell, I guess you'd have to say that I came to that conclusion even before the old boy walked out. He didn't like the fact that I would make passes at men in his presence.
He complained about that one time, and I told him to mind his own damned business. I said if he couldn't take a little competition, then he was lacking in confidence.
Oh, he came back with all this ridiculous poppycock about responsibilities between husbands and wives, that kind of garbage, but I wasn't about to listen to it.
I'll tell you something. When I want a man, I'm going to go after him, no matter who he is, what the circumstances are, or what the ultimate cost might be.
I've gotten pretty good at seducing men even when they're married. As a matter-of-fact, I regard married men as a special challenge. I like the idea of getting a guy, particularly one who is basically a square, you know the kind who works a nine to five job, then goes home to his wife and wouldn't think of playing around. This is the type of guy that I really set my sights on. It's a real challenge to wear down his resistance, then seduce him into the sack.
As a matter-of-fact, to get into the part of the story that is relevant to you, I should start by talking about an incident that happened just a short time ago.
There's this gal who lives down the street from me. She had been doing some backbiting about me, talking about how immoral I was, and it didn't bother me much. After all, you've got to consider the source.
But it was kind of the principle of the thing that bugged me. I just didn't like being talked about in a negative way, and this gal Gail, she certainly did that.
She's only been married for about three or four years, and she's a good ten years younger than I am. Her husband Freddie is about her age, and he seemed to be pretty hot for Gail, who, I'll admit, as a rule is a good looking brunette.
One night, anyway, I was drinking at a local bar with a guy that I date quite a bit. He's not much to look at, but I go for him for one reason-he's got a nice long dick, and he knows just how to use it. He gives me my kind of action. But I always shoo him aside if I've got something better going, as I so often do.
This one night, though, things were a little quiet at the bar and after a while I invited him to drink with me at the. bar. I figured that I probably wouldn't have any other chances that night, at least that I'd want to take, so I could maybe share this guy's bed with him.
He was sitting next to me telling some corny stories. I was trying to humor him by laughing, but the only thing I was thinking about was his rock hard peter. I wondered if he was up to humping me.
All of a sudden, just when things were getting on the dull side, who should walk in but Gail and her husband Freddie.
I cut this guy off right in the middle of a story.
"I wish you'd take off, honey," I said. "Look, I'll give you five bucks. Now go down the street and drink at another bar."
"What's with you, Rita?" he looked at me with a hurt expression in his eyes.
"I don't have time to do a lot of explaining. I know these people who just came in."
"So what? They can join our party. Why are you shooing me off?"
"The gal lives in the same block as I do, and she's been doing some talking about me. I've got a little score to settle. Do you mind, honey?"
"Alright, alright," he sighed disgustedly, taking the five dollar bill from my hand and vanishing down the block.
Gail and Freddy took a booth in an isolated corner of the bar. They didn't see me at first.
I called the bartender over and told him that I wanted to buy a round of drinks for both of them.
When the cocktail waitress walked over to their table and set the drinks down before them, they looked up with astonishment. The waitress pointed over toward me, and they looked over and saw me sitting there at the bar.
Gail looked like she had swallowed a rattlesnake or something, while Freddie, though surprised, had a charming smile on his face.
I must say that I consider younger men a challenge anyway. It does the old ego a world of good to have a guy about ten years younger than you are make a concerted effort in your direction.
But what I was really hoping to do in this case was to get back at Gail, and I was going to do it any way that I could.
Gail sat there looking real tense, while Freddie waved and smiled. He said something to the cocktail waitress, who walked over toward the bar and stopped in front of me.
"The gentleman wants to both thank you and ask you to join him and his wife at the table," the waitress said.
"Don't mind if I do," I smiled, getting up from the stool and walking over toward the booth.
Freddie got up and picked up a chair from a nearby table, placing it next to the booth.
"Sit down, Rita. How's it going?" Freddie began.
"Just fine, dear. You're looking very good."
"So are you," Freddie said.
Gail flinched when he made that remark. I figured that I had the young guy going, and I wasn't about to let the momentum slacken one bit.
I bought them a second round, after which Freddie started buying rounds for us.
"I'm not going to let a woman buy drinks for me all night long," Freddie laughed. "Even though I appreciate the generosity. You're really beautiful people, Rita. Damned if you aren't."
Gail started drinking slower as the evening wore on, while her husband Freddie began to chugalug it. I coasted, recognizing how important it was to retain a certain level of sobriety.
I started out playing it cool, not doing much open flirting with Freddie, letting nature take its course. But the longer we communicated, the angrier that Gail got.
"Gail, you've got such a handsome, intelligent, wonderful husband," I looked over at her and said.
That was my strategy. I would look over at Gail and start complimenting her husband, telling her how fortunate she was, and lauding her for her good taste.
She was doing a slow boil, and it made me happy to know that I had things going so much my own way. I'd keep on telling her how great Freddie was, right up to the time that Freddie was set to climb into bed with me.
After we had had a few rounds of drinks, Freddie reached out with his left leg and rubbed it against mine underneath the table. It was a quick gesture, but one that was unmistakable. I had the definite feeling of what he was trying to do.
I didn't let a moment pass between us. I reached out and ran my leg against his. When my ankle scraped against his pant leg, I could see him tense. I knew damned well that he was getting good and hard.
"I think we'd better get going," Gail finally snapped.
"What's the hurry?" Freddie asked with disappointment in his eyes.
"You're getting drunk. That's what the hurry is. Besides, the conversation is getting disgusting and repetitious."
"I'm having the time of my life, sweetie. Don't be a party pooper."
"I said that I want to go," she demanded insistently.
Freddie heaved a sigh, then got up from the booth.
Gail turned and walked away, never looking at me, never saying goodnight
"Sorry about her," Freddie whispered in my ear.
"When you get home, why don't you ditch her and drop over to my place? I'll have a pitcher of martinis ready."
"That does sound good," he smiled. "Of course, if she ever finds out she'll fracture my skull."
"Figure out a way to get away from her."
"Maybe I'll do that honey. You make that pitcher of martinis," Freddie said, walking away.
I could tell by the brisk manner in which he walked just how eager he was to get together with me. He even turned around at the door and winked, just to let me know how interested he was.
I went home and fixed the martini pitcher. I was in the middle of sipping my second martini, and beginning to wonder if Freddie would be making it at all, when all of a sudden I heard a knock at the door.
I went to the door and observed a smiling Freddie, who observed me in my sexy pink robe.
"If you don't look good," he said. "You know, I almost feel like doing away with the martinis."
"Do whatever you like," I said, letting him in the door.
"Maybe one, but then I'd like to move on to other things."
"We're both talking the same language," I laughed.
We sat down in the living room and sipped our martinis. Only he was more in the mood to do other things.
"How did you get away from your wife?" I asked.
"I talked her into taking a sleeping pill," he chuckled. "When she does that, she's dead to the world. I figured that I could get up, get out of the house, and have my fun without her knowing a thing."
"Very shrewd of you, my dear."
"Where a good piece of ass is at stake, I'll go to just about any length."
"I am a good piece of ass, darling."
"I'm going to find that out pretty soon. Isn't that right?"
"There's no time like the present, is there?"
"No, there really isn't"
Freddie hoisted the glass to his lips, bolting down the rest of the contents. He put down the glass, then reached over and undid the sash which held together my robe.
He pulled the robe away from me, looking at my beautiful body which I had taken such pains to keep in the best possible shape.
"I'll be damned," he said. "You know, even though you're older than Gail, you'd never know it by looking at you. Especially your body. You're so firm."
"Go ahead and touch me, darling. You have a perfect right."
I sat in the chair while he reached out and let his fingers run first over my breasts, then down over my stomach, and finally to my thighs.
"Oh, what a bod," he gasped.
"Of course, baby. Nothing but the best for you."
"Let's have ourselves a great fuck."
"I'm all for that."
I threw my robe off, then strutted into the bedroom. I let my ass-cheeks wiggle as I walked, turning him on all the more.
"Just look at that butt," he laughed.
I stretched out in the middle of the bed, watching as Freddie impatiently undressed. I thought he was going to literally tear his clothes off of him, he seemed to be so impatient to get off his clothing.
When he removed his shorts and T-shirt, he showed me his hard prick.
"I feel like going all the way with you, baby. I mean, I want to give you fucks like I haven't even given Gail."
"Right on, my dear."
"Oh, if she only knew where I was," he laughed. "But I think you're going to be a lot better piece of ass than she is. She's got so many damned hang-ups. I'll bet you don't have any."
"Not a one As a matter-of-fact, I want to start out by lowing you. That cock looks delicious."
"Come on, honey, and go down on it," he gasped. "It will be wonderful to have you slipping your tongue up and down it. I really want you to go to work. I want you to slip your tongue up and down my long prick. It will feel so great"
"If there's one thing I'm an expert at, it's massaging a cock with my tongue."
"Oh yeah, I can dig it I bet you are"
But first off, I want to play with your dick."
"Go ahead, darling. I want to feel your fingers on my fleshy rod."
I leaned forward and allowed the fingers of my right hand to manipulate up and down the surface of his cock.
He lay back and luxuriated, sighing with every stiff movement that my fingers generated over his bulging pecker.
"Keep moving your fingers,'" he called out. "Ah, go ahead, darling. Work your fingers over my prick."
The longer my fingers resourcefully worked around the base of his cock, the warmer that Freddie became. I knew that he would need some stimulating tongue movements soon, so I dropped my head down and began to lick his hot balls.
I started out working my tongue slowly over his testicles, allowing the momentum to build within him at a swift pace.
It made me feel so good to know that I was getting back at Gail. Nothing made me feel any better than to hear a husband, particularly of a chick that I was pissed at, tell me that I would be a better piece of ass than his wife.
Those words kept on reverberating through my ears as I worked my tongue resourcefully around his balls, causing his whole body to flip back and forth with every stroke.
"Ah, you are great," he said, "I can hardly ever get Gail to suck my cock at all. And when she does it, it's under protest But you're fantastic, dear, that tongue of yours spins like crazy. Keep it working on my balls, darling, oh, I love it Keep on working it Ah, what a tongue. It's making me itch all over. I really love your movements. Keep them working."
With spellbinding grace I gave him every enthusiasm that I could possible generate with my tongue. I swept it around his balls, then began to work it swiftly up and down the length of his long dick.
When I switched to the cock sucking, he became more enchanted than ever with what I was doing.
"Ah, that's good," he sighed. "Keep up the sucking, baby. Oh, what a tongue you've got. Keep winding it around my prick. Come on and wind it, darling. Oh, I just love it. I love your action."
While my tongue worked eagerly up and down his prick, I allowed my fingers to travel over his balls.
I began to work my tongue up and down on Freddie's cock, moving more swiftly than before, putting every bit of impetus that I possessed into the hot strokes.
I kept on squeezing his balls, pulling at them with everything that I had, constantly keeping up the swift pace as I sucked.
"Keep working your tongue," Freddie gasped. "Ah, that's it. What a cock sucker you are, baby."
Freddie reached out and grabbed my head. He clutched his fingers ever so tightly against my scalp, pressing gingerly as I kept on playing with his balls and sucking his cock.
I pursued him with every bit of diligence that I possessed, driving him ever closer to the stimulating moment of climax, pushing my tongue up and down.
I liked the fluid movements and I felt that I wasn't far removed from receiving his orgasmic liquids.
I could see his balls filling up with that juicy cum, and I was awaiting the moment that the jissum would begin to spray out of the end of his dick and into my waiting mouth.
I gave his balls another tug and squeeze, sucking with rhythmic joy and fascination. I liked the idea of completely letting myself go, of tearing my tongue relentlessly up and down his long dick.
"Just a few more sucks," he said. "That's really all I need, honey. Am I going to spray my cum inside your mouth. Ah, I'm really going to shoot the jissum inside you, Ah, darling, keep it going, keep your tongue action going. Oh, yes, you've really got the movements."
He turned loose his fingers from my scalp, then began to let them circulate ever so smoothly through my hair.
"Keep up the sucking," he called out.
I ran my tongue up and down his cock a few more times, then heaved a long loud sigh as the stimulating juices began to spray out of the end of his cock.
He heaved a loud gasp then watched the sparkling juices bolt out from the end of his rod and into my waiting mouth.
I enjoyed confronting the orgasmic droplets, gobbling with everything I had as I went after the juices that sprayed out of him.
I loved catching his joy juices, the whole act being made that much more pleasant by knowing that he considered me a better fuck than his wife.
"Did I do better than Gail?" I asked after I released my tongue from his rod.
"Did you ever," he exclaimed. "You know, that broad really gives me a pain in the ass. She thinks it's dirty to go down on my cock. Can you think of anything more ridiculous than that?"
"No, I can't. I think she's absolutely insane to think that way."
"You and me both, baby. It's ridiculous. I like to have my cock sucked. It does my soul a world of good to have somebody like you around who is willing to suck it"
"I'll drain those juices out of your dick if anybody can."
"You did a pretty convincing job."
"I think I'll pump some more life into your juicy cock, darling."
With great determination, I began to work my fingers around his cock and balls. I wanted to pump him up to where he had been before he juiced inside my mouth.
"I know how I want to fuck you. It's just a question of getting the cock up to where it had been before," Freddie said. "It's not going to take much. Just a few more strokes like you're giving me."
"Do you like this up and down movement?"
"I think it's absolutely great, honey. Yeah, just keep your fingers moving."
"Alright, I will. like that?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"I can see the life coming back into your cock, darling."
"You'd better believe it I want to fuck you right now."
I could tell from the tone of hungry desire that he gave out with, just how eager he was.
I wanted to accommodate him in every way, so I quickly removed my fingers from his long scorching prick.
"I want your ass-hole," he told me.
You know, I'd had it many different ways from a whole flock of different men, but never in my entire life had I ever been fucked up the ass-hole.
I was startled at the way he came on. He reached out and ran his fingers up and down my legs several times, then grabbed my thighs and threw my legs over his shoulders.
"I want you," he gasped. "I really want to pump my cock into your ass-hole."
"But I've never had it that way before."
"You haven't?"
"No, never."
"But you don't mind me doing it, do you?"
"I don't know. I'm not too wild about it."
"Come on now, dear. You should love it As a matter-of-fact you're going to love it. It will just take a little adjusting, but not much."
"I feel worried about it"
"You shouldn't. My old lady won't let me fuck her that way."
When he made that revelation, I began feeling a lot different about the whole thing. I figured if she wouldn't let him do it that way, then I would be more than happy to let him screw my ass-hole.
After all, whatever she couldn't do, I would pride myself on being able to do.
"Then jam it up my ass-hole," I said. "Just be careful enough to where you won't hurt me too much."
"You'd better believe it, darling."
He took a deep breath, then thrust his cock forward. It looked like one big long shiny sword as far as I was concerned as it pushed ever closer to me.
The first instant that it penetrated inside my ass-hole, I let out a grunt. It hurt, but I sure as hell wasn't about to let that stop me. Not when I knew that Freddie wanted it all that bad.
"What an ass-hole," he grunted, "oh, am I going to plunge my prick inside you."
He hadn't even done anything to lubricate my ass-hole. He just plunged right in, sending his steaming pecker into my ass-hole, pushing his body back and forth as he drove his fiery dick ever deeper into my ass-hole.
Sure it hurt; it also felt great too. It was the kind of pleasure-pain that I loved. I knew that I was getting one helluva fuck, and I wasn't about to discourage him.
"Pull your legs together," he exclaimed. "Come on and pull them, honey. That's what I want you to do. Come on and cooperate. It will give me a tighter fuck. I want a nice tight fuck while I'm pushing my prick into you. Oh, does that ever tickle. I'm beginning to feel the fires building up in my balls."
"That means you couldn't be too far away from orgasm."
"There's no way that I could stand fucking your ass-hole like this for very long," he exclaimed. "There's just no way, sweetheart. It really feels good. Oh, does it feel good pushing it into you. Ah, what an ass you've got."
"Keep driving your prick."
"Will I ever, doll."
He let his fingers dig deeply into my ass-cheeks while he kept up his steady fucking strokes. Several times I thought he was about to orgasm, and just as it appeared that he was going to let out one last long sigh, he would ease up.
When he eased up, he applied his cock a little more smoothly and slowly than before. But his pecker juices remained hot and intact, ready to spray inside my ass-hole at the proper moment.
"Drive it in me," I said. "I'm really beginning to enjoy your strokes, baby."
"I knew that you would. I've just got to keep on plunging inside your ass-hole."
"Oh yes, oh, you're really giving me the short punching strokes now."
"I do that as I move closer to climax. I love plunging."
"Keep up the plunging. Ah, how good. Oh, does that feel good."
"I knew you'd take to this ass-hole fucking. It would just take you a little while. Just a little time to get into the routine of things."
"Oh yes, I really do love it. Ah, that's so good, baby."
A few blinding strokes later, the spurting white juices began to spill out of the end of his penis.
Did it ever feel great to receive those droplets of juicy white cum as they shot out of the end of his burning dick.
"Ah, so good, it feels so good," he cried out I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the orgasmic glow.
While the peter juices kept on spurting inside me, I smiled triumphantly.
"Ah, what a grand climax to a beautiful fuck," I said.
"I really liked slamming my prick into you."
"That was great, baby. Oh, what a screw."
He removed his cock from my ass-hole, then patted me on my ass-cheeks.
"You sure do have a good ass," he complimented.
"Thank you, darling. Maybe I'll let you sample it again."
"I want to continue this relationship," he said. "I've got to get back right away now, but that doesn't mean that I won't be back."
"Just keep me posted, my dear."
"I sure will."
We had a thriving relationship during the course of the next several months.
As I had every right to expect, Gail finally found out about what was occurring between us.
She came over late one afternoon, red eyed and trembling.
"I've got to see you," she said.
"About what, Gail?"
"Please let me in," she shrieked.
I let her in the house, then asked her if she wanted a cup of coffee.
"I don't want anything," she said.
"You're trembling so badly, baby. Maybe the coffee would help."
"Please sit down and listen to me."
"You don't need to raise your voice."
Actually I was happy that I had her right where I wanted her. I knew that she was going to reveal about the fact that we had had sex. It bothered me in one sense that she found out, since it had been so much fun, but another side of me was very happy.
After all, I figured that was what the bitch deserved.
"Just what is it you want to discuss, Gail?" I asked, forcing the issue.
"You've been having sex with my husband."
"What makes you say that?"
"I knew that something was going on. He's been making all kinds of excuses getting away from the house, and he's been insisting that I take sleeping pills quite often. He told me that he was sure it would relax me more. At first I went along with that nonsense, but finally I came to the conclusion that he was pulling something on me. He certainly was. I got him drunk last night and dragged the whole thing out of him. He was bragging about how much better you were in bed than I was."
"I'm sure that isn't true."
"According to him, it sure is. He told me that what he liked about you is that you were willing to give him all kinds of different sex acts.
You were willing to do more things than I was willing to do. It really bothered me a lot."
"You should try and win him back, Gail."
"I can only do it under one condition," she said desperately. "You've got to stop having sex with him. Please, our marriage will be destroyed if you don't. He's already said that he's thinking of divorcing me and marrying you. If that didn't crush me, then nothing ever will."
"You're probably taking it a lot harder than you need to."
"Oh sure, it's easy for you to say. After all, you're not married to him, I am. He sounded very determined. It bothers me a lot, a whole lot. Can you please stay away from him."
"I guess maybe I can call a halt to the relationship. Maybe I will, under the right circumstances," I said calmly.
"Which are?"
"I want you to cool it, baby. I mean, no more of this backbiting about me."
"Why, I never-"
"You did," I cut her off in mid-sentence. "I know you talked about me a lot. You were going on about how cheap I was. I didn't appreciate it one bit"
"Look, I'll do anything you say. I won't do anything to hurt you. But please, stay away from my husband."
"You stay away from me, honey, and I'll do the same for you."
"It's a deal. Please, don't have sex with my husband again."
When I saw the look of desperation in her eyes, I felt great. I liked the fact that I had her right where I wanted her. She wasn't about to bug me again, that was for damned sure.
I really had a lot tougher time dealing with Freddie than I had in dealing with Gail. He cried like a baby when I told him that our relationship had to come to an end. Actually, I was just as happy that it did. I had new worlds to conquer.
But in the aftermath of our breakup, I began to wonder just where I should look for another guy. I started fucking with the same man that I knew from the bar, which bored me. I wanted some new worlds to conquer, and wondered just how and where I should start.
At that particular point in time I got a letter from my eighteen year old son Arnold. He told me that he was due home on leave from the Army base where he was stationed.
The first night that he got back, we sat up until the wee hours of the morning drinking. I went out and bought a fifth of scotch for the occasion, and between the two of us we polished the whole thing off.
When he got kind of tipsy, Arnold started talking about his experiences in the Army.
"You know, Mom, I didn't realize how naive I was about sex till I got around some of my buddies," he said. "There's this one guy in particular that had knocked up two gals before going into the Army. As a matter-of-fact, his old man practically forced him at gun point to join. He was a preacher, and it bugged him that his son was ruining his reputation by going out and knocking up broads."
"Understandably it would," I nodded.
"But one night when I went out with this guy, the two of us got stoned and he suggested that we go to a whore-house. Let me tell you. This whore really knew where it was at. She started sucking my cock and did she ever do a great job."
I looked at him strangely. After all, Arnold had never talked to me that way before. I was his mother, and I had tried to confine my little sexual forays to areas apart from the house.
If I did entertain somebody in my bedroom, it would be while Arnold was gone somewhere.
He looked at me a little longer, then finally it began to dawn on him who he was talking to.
"Gosh, Mom, I really got carried away," he said. "I'm sorry."
"Don't think anything of it. You're just growing up, that's all."
"But I was talking so crudely."
"You got carried away. After all, you did have a lot to drink."
"I never realized what I was doing."
"I know you didn't, son. Don't hold it against yourself."
A few moments later he went to bed. I stayed up and mixed myself a drink. As I sat at the table and sipped the liquor, I got to thinking about Arnold.
I had conquered practically every world sexually. I had even gotten to the point where I'd learned to take a long stiff cock up my ass-hole. So what was left? How about my own son? He had kind of titillated me a little when he started talking about sex.
There wasn't really that much difference in our respective ages. I had been eighteen when I had him, so he was exactly half my age.
Even though I'm thirty-six, I don't look it, and I certainly don't feel it. The invigorating sex has kept me very youthful.
When I finally went to bed, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I kept thinking about Arnold, and wondered just how he would react if I actually tried to seduce him.
The next evening I offered to take him out to dinner. We had quite a few cocktails as we sat there and ate dinner. We had cocktails before dinner, we had wine with our meal, then had after-dinner drinks. .
I was hoping to loosen him up, and finally I started pumping him on sex once again.
"You must have had a pretty intimate relationship with that whore you were talking about," I laughed. "Tell me more."
"You've got to be kidding. You don't want me to talk about that"
"Oh yes, I do. You know, I'm quite a hot woman. I've had lots of sex. You're not going to shock me, no matter what you say."
"Well, this whore gave me a fantastic rim job," he grinned, still feeling a little uncomfortable about discussing sex with me. "She knew just how to stick her tongue up my ass-hole. When she did that, my old cock would harden, and the harder that I got, the more I wanted her. She'd let me fuck her any which way. It was really a blast. I'd shove my cock so high and so tight into her pussy. I knew just how to kick the old cock deep into her pussy well."
"I'll bet you're quite a fuck," I laughed.
"I do pretty good, Mom."
"You're a big boy now, Arnold. You don't have to call me Mom. How about calling me Rita?"
"It will seem strange for a little while," he grinned crookedly.
"Let's try the name on for size. How about letting me hear you call me Rita?"
"Fine. You're Rita," he said.
"That's much better, honey. Why don't we go back to the house?"
"Whatever you say," Arnold exclaimed.
He finished his drink quickly, after which I paid the bill.
Arnold was in a pretty giddy state all the way back to the place, and I kept pumping him for more information about sex.
He loosened up and began telling me more and more about what the whore had done with him, but he kept returning to one central theme-he liked the fact that she would do just about anything, and he enjoyed the rim job that she gave him.
When we got back to the place, I gave him an opportunity to go into his room and take off his clothes.
I took off my dress quickly, then removed my panties and bra. I wanted to do a speedy job of undressing so that I could catch him by surprise by walking into his room totally naked.
I tiptoed briskly toward his room, opening the door just a crack so that I could look inside.
As I looked inside the.door, he was just in the process of removing his shorts.
When he took them off, I determined that it was time for me to make my move.
I walked over toward him, closing the door behind me hard enough to where he knew that I was there.
"Mom, what are you doing?" he asked startedly.
"It's Rita to you baby."
"Fine, Rita. But isn't this weird? You don't have a stitch on."
"Of course I don't. I want to be naked and beautiful for you, my darling."
"You do look great," he sighed.
"Good enough to fuck?"
"You really mean that?"
"Oh, I most certainly do. I'd like to feel your hot manliness inside me."
"I can't get over this."
"Do I look beautiful?"
"You really do. That whore was pretty good looking, but she didn't have a body as good as yours, and she wasn't as beautiful either."
"I'm happy to hear that. I bet I can give you a better rim job than she gave you too."
"You'd really do that to me?"
"I certainly would. Just lie down, baby, and relax. Spread your legs and I'll put my tongue to work in your ass-hole."
I watched as Arnold slid his body into bed, spreading his legs just as I had requested.
I picked up a pillow, which I slipped beneath his ass-cheeks.
"I'm going to drive my tongue up your ass-hole," I said. "I just needed the right angle."
"I can hardly believe it. You're really going to slam it into me."
"Just like the whore did, only I'm going to do a better job."
Before I sent my tongue inside his ass-hole, however, I wanted to give Arnold some other sensations.
I reached out and began to tongue his left buttock, working my tongue up and down. He liked the sensations, and his whole body began to reel with enthusiasm.
"Ah, I like the tongue action," he gasped. "You're really, good, honey. The whore didn't do that. She didn't start out by licking my buttocks."
I worked my tongue over one buttock thoroughly, then began to slip it over the other ass-cheek. I kept up the smooth, flowing movements, driving my son into a state of torrid satisfaction.
"Start rimming me," he called out with impatience. "I need that kind of tongue action. Come on and slide your tongue up my ass-hole. Ah, honey, I need the ass-hole sucking. I really need it bad. Oh, do I ever need it."
I turned my tongue loose inside his ass-hole, driving it high into his cavernous anus. I flicked wildly, making certain that my tongue took in every conceivable crevice of his ass-hole.
"Keep sucking," he called out. "Oh, I'm going to juice before long."
I decided that the best way to give him a smooth double sensation would be to continue the ass-hole sucking while I reached out with my right hand and started pumping my fingers up and down the full length of his fleshy instrument.
I pumped on his dick, moving my fingers speedily while I slipped my tongue ever deeper inside his ass-hole.
With great conviction I kept it up, pumping and probing with my tongue, letting it slide ever higher into his ass-hole.
"Ah, that's good," he said. "A hand job and an ass job at the same time. Even the whore didn't do that. Oh, you're better than she is, Rita baby. Keep sucking my ass out. Ah, what a rim job. Suck my ass-hole."
I kept up those burning movements until I decided-that his cock was at such a point that he needed to get it off.
I released my fingers from it, then slid down on my back, spreading my legs accommodatingly and waiting for him to make his first move.
"Fuck my ass-hole," I called cut. "Did you fuck that whore's ass-hole?"
"Oh no. She wouldn't let me do that. I wanted to one night, but she said no."
"I'm giving you the go-ahead," I exclaimed. "Drive your cock into my ass, honey. You'll find it nice and tight. You're really going to enjoy it."
"You're too much," he shook his head. "You really want me to fuck you that way."
"You'd better believe that I do. Come on and slide your cock into my ass-hole. I really expect a lot from a good hot cocksman, which you definitely are."
"Alright, then I'll do it."
He asked me to slide over on my stomach, and I was more than happy to comply. I wanted to give him every opportunity to get his cock pumping in just the right way.
I lay on my stomach, awaiting his first stab. He convincingly pushed his cock forward, allowing it to plunge into my ass-hole.
It darted with nervous, relentless energy. I could tell from the first few stabs just how hot he was. He was convinced that he was going to get the best fuck possible, and was all the more eager to please me after I had done such a brisk job of sucking out his ass-hole.
"Fuck me," I called out. "Keep pushing your cock inside me. Ah, baby, I need it."
I reached out and clutched his thighs, running my fingers over his sinewy muscles as he kept pumping his prick ever deeper inside me.
Once more, on the basis of the first few strokes, I felt some pain. But I wasn't about to let it throw me, no way, not when I was getting the kind's of magnificent sensations that he was sending my way with every spearing thrust.
"Keep up the fucks," I called out, "keep driving your surging cock into me. Oh, do I ever need it. Keep up the devastating movements. Drive your cock, darling. Ah, drive it into me. Come on and fuck. Oh, fuck me, oh, that's it, baby."
I clutched his thighs that much more tightly as he plunged his prong ever deeper into my ass-hole. It felt great to feel his hot bulging male tightness coming into contact with my anus.
Between us we produced quite a magnificent fuck. I was learning how to roll my body instinctively so that I could give him every advantage. I kept twisting and turning my body, and he kept plunging his pecker forward ever so forcefully, spearing me, driving his cock ever so deep inside my ass-hole.
"Fuck, oh, fuck it," I called out "Oh, juice me, baby, shoot your cream into my ass-hole. Come on and juice, honey, oh, I want you to juice. I need it, darling, oh, do I ever need it"
I flexed my muscles, tightening my legs, doing everything I could so that he would be able to fuck me just right.
His surging pecker kept on spearing my ass-hole. The longer that he fucked me, the closer that he drew to a stimulating climax.
I kept on squeezing his legs and bringing my legs together, giving him a hot fuck.
"Ah, I'm just about there," he said.
Just as he was about to juice, Arnold leaned forward and slipped his tongue inside my mouth.
We exchanged a fantastic French kiss, our tongues colliding with uninhibited enthusiasm. All the while he pumped, sending his surging prick ever deeper into my hot ass-hole.
As he released his tongue from my mouth, he announced:
"There it goes. Oh, I'm juicing, juicing, juicing.
At that very point in time, the juices began to spill from my pussy.
"Ah, we're both juicing," I exclaimed. "It feels so-good, honey. Ah, it's so great to have both of us juicing at the same time."
When he pulled his peter out of my ass-hole, he leaned forward and thrust his tongue inside my mouth a second time. Once again our tongues locked with passionate bliss.
Let me tell you something. Of all the achievements that I have chalked up, this one had to be the most impressive. I had done a beautiful job of seducing my son, and the young guy came through in an absolutely beautiful fashion.
He was home for two weeks during his leave, and we fucked at least once every day. But most of the time we got together on several occasions.
He really did an excellent job on my pussy.
"You know how to eat cunt with the best of them," I told him one time after he had sucked me to climax. "You've got as good a tongue as I've ever encountered, and I've had lots of pretty hot very experienced men suck my mound."
"That's quite a compliment coming from someone like you," he told me, slapping my ass-cheeks.
I've felt kind of lonely since he's gone back to the base. As a matter-of-fact, I did such a good job of teaching him that I kind of hate to go back to these other guys.
You see, when you start out with a young guy like Arnold, you can show him the ropes right from scratch. With these other guys, they've picked up habits through the years. Some of those habits aren't so easily overcome, and, on top of that, some of the guys are so stubborn that they have no desire when it comes to wanting to break them.
You probably think I'm some kind of a terrible woman, to be this open about sex, but I'll tell you one thing, I'll never get bored, which is more than I can say for a lot of women who are afraid to participate in certain acts.
I can hardly wait till Arnold gets back. I want to fuck with him some more. You know, the more often I fuck with a guy his age, the more youthful it makes me feel.
As a matter-of-fact, I've been seducing a few guys his age lately, and it makes me pretty happy. I've taught them the ropes, and they really appreciate it, giving me some fantastic fucks in return.
Society is pretty sick as far as I'm concerned, and the reason it is, is that people have too many hang-ups. A gal like me doesn't have any hang-ups. I fuck any way I want to, any time I want to, and with anybody I want to ball.
My sex relationship with Arnold kind of enabled me to turn the corner in that respect. Before I started fucking with him, I guess you'd have to say that I did have a few hang-ups. I would have thought it was really weird to have sex with your own son, but he taught me otherwise.
Just the other night I did a great job of rimming a young guy's ass-hole. He was a little younger than Arnold, and he went crazy, twisting his butt every which way while I sent my tongue ever higher into his ass-hole.
He asked me how I ever learned to rim that well, and I told him that I practiced on my own son.
He burst into laughter, telling me that I had a great sense of humor. If he only knew that I was telling the truth. It was really a riot to watch him cratch up and tell me about my sense of humor.
SUMMARY
Rita L. afforded a fascinating example. I felt that if I could just probe a little deeper into her past, I could unlock many mysteries concerning her.
"What is your general attitude toward men?" I asked.
"I evaluate men the same way that they evaluate women. They're sex objects to me, and nothing more."
"You feel that that is the way men evaluate women?"
"They have for years," she laughed sardonically. "Don't try and tell me that they haven't."
"I'm not here to either argue with you or attempt to espouse a viewpoint," I replied. "I'm here to attempt to get to the facts."
"Well, I'll give you a fact or two. I don't really have that much time for men, except as sex objects. As I said before, that's what they think of women, so I'll pay them the same degree of homage as they pay us. They're good for a screw, and that's about it. When you talk about reliability, you might as well forget them, because they don't have anything to commend them in that respect."
"How long have you held this attitude concerning men?" I asked, cautiously probing, hoping that she would supply me with some answers that would clear up the mysteries in my mind.
"My attitude concerning men stems back a long way. You see, they really treated me shabbily when I was young. There was one guy in particular, who went around and screwed just about every good looking girl he could. Then after he had the whole town in an uproar, I found out that he was secretly married to a girl that was sitting at home crying her eyes out while he was screwing with us. She made such a fuss, and I don't really blame her, that he stopped playing around with the rest of us. You know, I loved that big, goony ape, and that's what made the whole thing so tough. I felt sorry for that mousy wife of his, and the last time that I saw him, he told me that he would have to stop seeing me and I really let loose with a lot of swear words. In the interim I had found out about him being married, and felt about two inches tall for what I had done."
"But you went ahead and acted in a similar fashion with Gail, the woman who was married."
"But you notice that I dropped out of the scene when she came to me and started bawling.
"What would you have done in the event that her husband had insisted upon divorcing her?"
"There's not a helluva lot I could have done. After all, I can't force anybody to do anything or refrain from doing anything."
"I mean, what would your reaction have been if this man had definitely decided to divorce his wife?"
She paused for a long period of time before answering.
"I suppose that I would have been terribly disappointed after thinking about all the ramifications," she finally admitted. "No, I don't intend to really hurt anybody. Of course I guess that isn't completely true. No, in the beginning I felt like hurting Gail and hurting her plenty. Actually, even though it's kind of hard to tell precisely what I was thinking then, I believe that what I was hoping for was a situation where I could stop just short of the point of Gail and Freddie getting a divorce. That's what I wanted. I wanted to hurt Gail plenty, then bring her to her knees. As far as I was concerned, she had something like that coming. She really did. She had no business backbiting about me the way she did."
"What about your son? I mean, do you have any regrets about having sex with him?"
"No, I don't. Am I hurting anybody by doing that?"
"I happen to think you're hurting both yourself and your son."
"How's that?"
"It's really not a very wholesome and uplifting situation to have a son engaging in sex with his mother. And as for you, it's hurting you as well. You ought to be going out and cultivating relationship with men in your own age category"
"Like these clowns that sit on these bar stools? I'm sick of most of them. They've given me a few good screws, but they drink too much, they call me up and pester me all hours of the day and night. Most of them want to cry on my shoulders more than do anything else."
"Is there anything wrong with attempting to establish a relationship with other people? I mean, more wholesome men?"
"I don't think there is such a thing," she laughed.
"I think that you have preconceived prejudices stemming from that man that you loved who disappointed you," I told her bluntly. "If you would just attempt to make a fresh start. Perhaps the thing to do would be to obtain some psychological help, then do your best to go out and meet a new breed of men. You've been sitting around a lot of sleazy bars, based upon what you've been telling me. Not that you can't meet uplifting men in bars, mind you. It's just that apparently you have been meeting people from the bottom rungs of the barrel."
"The lowest," she laughed.
"Then I would suggest, for your own benefit, mind you, that you cease having sex with your son and attempt to launch into a new lifestyle. It's imperative that you do that. Imperative for both you and your son."
"I never thought I'd come here and listen to a lecture, but I'll admit it's kind of interesting," she said. "I'll at least consider what you're saying, but for the time being my boy is too good a piece of ass for me to pass up. I believe I'm going to keep right on having sex with him, at least for the time being."
"What do you think would cause you to change your style of living? I mean, what would it take specifically for you to give up having sex with your son?" I asked curiously.
"I guess if I found the right man I'd end these sex escapades with my son," she admitted. "But I'm to the point now where I'm not idealistic enough or foolish enough to think that's going to happen."
"You know, if you shut the possibility out of your mind, if you tell yourself it definitely won't happen, it won't. If, on the other hand, you go out and attempt to meet people, and really try, just maybe you will form other relationships."
"I doubt that you're right," she said. "But I'll at least consider your words, and that's one helluva lot more than I would have been willing to say at the beginning of this interview."
"That's good. I wish you'd at least consider what I've said," I told her.
"You've got a deal," she grinned. "I enjoyed the discussion."
I haven't heard from Rita L. since that day she came into my office and candidly explained about herself and her relationship with her son.
It is to be hoped that she not only mulled over my words, but that she acted upon them in a constructive way.
I will probably never discover what actually did happen to Rita L. It is entirely possible that nothing did, and that things are proceeding in the same manner as they had before. After all, she had said she would consider what I had said to her, but had made no commitment beyond that. In addition, I wasn't there to reinforce her thinking.
There is also the possibility, however, that Rita began to seriously contemplate what I said, in which case she would have changed her style of living eventually, for one reason or another.
The subject of Case Four, Glen C, was a highly bizarre one of a young man who was thrown into a startling web of circumstances out of which he had sex with his own mother.
CASE FOUR
Glen C. was a tall, slender, sensitive young man with light brown hair and a winning smile.
I could tell that he was bothered, however, at the prospect of revealing information about himself. He was the kind of sensitive young man who would have to be handled with kid gloves before he would be willing to reveal intimate details concerning his life.
I worked with him very slowly, and eventually, when he came to trust me, he was willing to reveal his bizarre story.
Following is that story:
I was adopted a few months before my first birthday.
I didn't know much about my mother, except for the fact that she was supposed to be living in some little Texas town. My adopted parents wouldn't say anything much about her, except that she had me out of wedlock, and felt that it was in my best interests to adopt me out.
There is a natural curiosity, however, about your parents. In this case, the more I heard about my mother, and what a confused young girl she had been, the more concerned I became over some day having the opportunity to see her.
I graduated from high school, then signed up for a hitch in Uncle Sam's Navy.
On one occasion I was going through Texas, at a time when I was stationed in the South. I knew about the fact that she lived somewhere in Texas, so I got on the phone and talked to the woman I had called Mom all my life, the woman who had taken me in when I was a young boy.
I had a long conversation with her. I told her I could understand her reasons for wanting to hide from me facts about my natural mother, but since I was eighteen years old and knew a little something about life, I felt that I ought to be told at that point.
I said that I wanted to see my mother. She told ma that it might be very difficult, because this woman moved around a great deal, and she hadn't heard from her in the last two years. I asked her to give me the woman's name and her last known address.
I jotted down the name, and the address, and the Texas town, which I won't even repeat. You probably haven't heard of it anyway, but I'll just keep that my little secret.
I jotted down all the information, then went to work. I immediately went to this town, checking out the address that Mom had given me.
It was a little apartment house out on the edge of town, right near some railroad tracks. The woman who ran the place was real nice. She gave me the forwarding address that my mother, whose name was Sheila, had left.
I was happy when I got a forwarding address, hoping that maybe she would be living there then.
It turned out that she had moved once more, but had left a forwarding address.
I went to the third place, but drew another blank. This time she hadn't left another forwarding address, and had left some five months earlier.
The man who ran the apartment building, though, remembered that she worked at a restaurant in the middle of town. He thought for a few moments, then remembered the name of the place.
I jotted down the name of the restaurant, then immediately got into my rented car and drove out there.
It turned out that she had quit this job at the restaurant about one month earlier, but the proprietor, once I told him who I was and why I wanted to see her, gave me her address, even though he said she had told him not to give it to anyone.
"I'll make an exception like this," he said, looking at me in a pitiful way.
I drove on out to the address that he gave me. As it turned out, it was near the railroad tracks, not far from where the first place was that I had stopped.
When I got out of that car, my damned knees buckled. I don't think anything in my entire life scared me as much as this did. The sweat was pouring down both sides of my face and was visible underneath my arms as well. Sure it was hot, but that wasn't the main reason.
What had me downright petrified was the prospect of meeting my mother after all this time, for the first time in my life, actually. It was about enough to bowl anybody over.
I knocked on the door. I could hear sounds of country music filtering out of a radio in the living room.
I had to knock several times, the last time pretty hard before I even aroused anyone. "Who is it?" a woman's voice called out in a deep Texas drawl.
It was more of a challenge than a question, the way that she put it.
"Is this Sheila?" I asked.
"Yeah, who the hell would you be?"
"I'm your son Glen," the words blurted out.
That did it I heard footsteps walking quickly toward the door.
I was amazed to discover a beautiful green eyed blonde standing before me. She was clad in a white blouse and red shorts, revealing a beautiful set of legs. Through the blouse I could see her beautiful breasts.
Never had I expected to find such a young, sexy looking woman. To think that she was my mother.
Her eyes widened as she looked into mine.
"Who did you say you were?" she asked indignantly.
"I'm your son, Glen."
"What makes you think I've got a son?"
"This is the information I've been given. I can't reveal my sources, but, through painstaking effort, I finally managed to track you down. Surely you're not going to tell me that you're not my mother."
"My God, I don't believe any of this," she sobbed. "It's so damned unreal. I don't have a son.
"Are you sure?" I looked at her solemnly.
She backed away momentarily, dropping her eyes, then lifting them once more and looking into my eyes.
"You are my mother, I just know you are," I said.
"Oh, my God. I'm so ashamed. It's been so many years. I was so young, so immature. I'm sorry. I hope you don't hold it against me."
"I don't hold anything against you," I said.
At that point she threw her arms around me and delivered a long kiss to my lips.
When her lips finally turned loose from mine, she invited me inside.
"You're such a fine, handsome young boy," she said. "I'm so proud of you. I didn't do a damned thing to help you. As a matter-of-fact, if you could rise above somebody like me, then you're a pretty good guy."
"I don't feel that way at all. I'm proud of you," I told her.
"Come on now," she shook her head. "Let's not get carried away. I'm really nothing to be proud of."
"I think you are."
"You're such a sweet young guy. Please sit down and I'll fix us a drink."
She fixed a couple of screwdrivers, bringing the two glasses out of the living room.
I could tell from the way she was acting that she had had a little something to drink before I arrived. Well, we started drinking steadily, and as we did, she began to ask me questions about myself.
I told her plenty about how I had grown up, where I had gone to school, and about the fact that I was in the Navy and liked it pretty well. I said I didn't think I'd stay in and make a career ou of it, but that it was at least a pretty enjoyable way of spending time. And on top of that, I was learning how to operate some machinery, which I thought would do me some good on the outside when it came time to get a job.
We kept on drinking, and the more she imbibed the more willing she was to talk about herself. She had been married twice, she told me, and hadn't had any more children.
She said that one of the husbands had been very mean and had beaten her, while the other one just didn't want to work, forcing her to support the two of them.
She mentioned that she worked mainly in restaurants, but that she had just started to work as a cocktail waitress. She said she kind of liked it, since she was working in the busiest bar in town, and that the tips were pretty good.
As she finished telling me about herself, I observed those beautiful green eyes looking in my direction more intensely than before.
She kept on looking at me, and finally she walked over and sat down next to me on the sofa.
I was startled at the way she reached out with her right hand and began to run her fingers gently through my hair.
"You're such a good looking young man," she said.
Even though she was my mother, and I kept trying to tell myself that, I couldn't help but get hard as I sat there next to her.
After all, she was a very young looking Woman, and, indeed, she was young. She had had me when she was a very confused girl in her teens, and I had never seen her before, so I didn't get the same feeling that I did when I was around the woman who had raised me.
I felt guilty getting the hard-on, but it was there nonetheless. As I kept sitting there pensively on the edge of the sofa, she moved from one bold step to another.
After finishing running her fingers smoothly through my hair, she leaned forward and delivered a searing kiss to my lips.
The first kiss had been a fairly long one, but it didn't contain the tremendous impact that the second one did. This time I was practically rocked to the rafters as a result of the strong impact of the kiss.
All I know is that my heart started to unexplainably pound, and as it did she threw her arms around me.
Once we finished the lip kiss, she thrust her tongue forward, permitting it to slide inside my mouth.
Our tongues converged with blissful enthusiasm, and the longer that they locked, the greater the feeling of passionate determination that flowed within my body.
I kept wondering if I was turning into some kind of a wild sex nut. After all, this wasn't a common, ordinary experience. This was my own mother.
Here I was her flesh and blood, yet I found myself becoming increasingly more attracted to her physically.
Our tongues made beautiful music together, locking with invigorating passion, until she turned her tongue loose from my mouth.
Once that her tongue was released from mine, she reached down and with trembling fingers unzipped my zipper.
I couldn't help but let out a startled sigh as she finished the act of unzipping, then boldly reached inside my trousers with both hands and pulled out my rigid penis.
Her fingertips manipulated up and down my aroused prick. The fires were burning within me as she kept up the action.
Never before, not once in my entire life, had I felt this degree of sexual passion for anyone.
It was an incredible thing to behold, just lying back there and receiving those brilliant finger stabs that she put forward.
I felt like telling her to stop, but just couldn't seem to bring myself to do it. It was the weirdest experience of my life, just sitting there with my legs spread looking helplessly into the air as my own mother gave me a hand job.
It was a convincing effort, too, what with her fingertips stroking ever so broadly up and down the full length of my inflamed organ.
"Oh, you've got such a beautiful cock," she sighed. "You're so much better a person, so much more a man than either one of husbands. One was a terrible brute, the other downright shiftless. You're not either one, you're sensitive but you've got a tremendous inner strength. I recognize it, darling, I really do. Oh, honey, you're absolutely beautiful."
She finished her finger activities on my cock, then slipped her tongue down toward my balls which she began to lick resolutely.
From the very beginning she worked her tongue swiftly driving it at a speedy clip, putting every bit of effort that she could into the sharp strokes.
She sucked my balls, and as she did she ran the fingers of both hands up and down the full length of my prick.
I could see the heat generating within myself, and knew tnat the same kind of process was taking effect with her as well.
The longer that she kept up her action, the faster that her tongue stroked, and pretty soon she had me on the verge of climax.
"Oh, I feel like I've got to juice," I told her. "A guy just can't take too much of this kind of action. Ah, it just drives a person up the wall. Oh, baby, what tongue movements."
As I lay back there on the sofa, spreading my legs, I watched as she sucked my balls thoroughly. She released her tongue suddenly from them.
She then put it to work on my cock, moving it ever so slowly as she let the passions develop within me.
"Ah, suck me, honey, oh, suck me," I called out
By that point in time I guess I had forgotten that she was my mother. She was just a beautiful woman who was giving me a thorough suck. "Drive your tongue, oh, drive it," I called out She extended her movements to the full length of my prick, and as she worked her tongue up and down in a spirited manner, she manipulated the fingers of both hands over my balls.
She squeezed and tugged at my testicles, putting every bit of effort she could into her movements as she kept on sucking my long prick.
Her head bobbed joyously as she kept on sucking, moving me ever closer to the voluminous climax that I knew was beckoning.
"Keep on sucking," I called out. "Oh, my dear, you're too much. That tongue action of yours is amazing. Oh, you're going so fast. You're really turning me on. Your tongue is so beautiful. Oh, the way you're working. It's a great tongue. Oh, keep stepping up the pace. I'm just about there, sweetheart. Come on and suck."
A few strokes later, I reached out and gripped her head. I needed to hold onto something as I started to gasp.
The first few joy drops came spilling out of the end of my prick, but I knew them to be only a prelude to the steaming orgasm that would immediately follow.
When the thunderous bolts of white juice finally began to cut loose, and as I began to fill her mouth with white juicy cum, a glorious feeling of satisfaction reverberated throughout my body.
"Eat it, ah, eat my juice," I called out. "It's delicious stuff, baby. I really want you to eat it. Oh, go after it, darling. Come on and eat it."
She kept on resolutely gobbling, going after every drop of my hot steaming cum.
I was amazed over the fact that even though it was my biggest load ever, she was still able to eat every drop, devouring the scorching juices that spilled out of the end of my prick.
When she finished with me, she wasn't satisfied. She needed more.
As I sat there on the sofa, just beginning to catch my breath, I watched Sheila get up and begin to undress.
It was just too much excitement for one afternoon. First I had met my mother for the first time, then just after we had gotten acquainted, she had unzipped my trousers and sucked my cock to climax.
Now she was standing before me, unbuttoning her blouse.
"It's warm in here," she laughed. "I want to give my boobies some freedom."
She tore off her blouse, then quickly undid her bra straps. She threw her bra to the floor, then showed me her lovely breasts.
I couldn't help but be impressed by her fluid, firm, velvety tits, and the pink rose petaled nipples that stood out prominently as well.
"I've always heard that these are good tits," she said. "As a matter-of-fact, some men have told me they're the best in Texas."
"They're gorgeous," I gulped.
I didn't know how much further she was going to go. But she soon showed me. She reached down and began to tug at her shorts, pulling them swiftly down her legs.
She stepped out of them, then tugged at her white panties, slipping them down her legs and completing the act of undressing.
I observed her pussy with great interest. I liked the tufts of white pubic hair and wondered what it would be like to sink my tongue into her pink, already wet vagina.
As I observed the matted hair, I knew that she had become very excited during the course of sucking my cock.
While my eyes remained riveted on Sheila's cunt, she reached down with her right hand and began to maneuver her fingers over her mound.
She couldn't have looked any sexier than she did at that moment, what with the fingers coming into blazing contact with her pussy, and her ass-cheeks wiggling back and forth.
She was turning me on in a big way, and the hunger couldn't help but mount within me.
"I'm going to lie down on the rug," she laughed.
I watched her lower her beautiful body downward. She sprawled out on the rug, spreading her legs.
"Come on after me, sweetheart," she said. "I want you to suck my tits."
I must admit that I never saw a more appealing sight than Sheila's wonderful boobs, so I threw my body downward onto the rug, allowing my tongue to go to work briskly upon her left breast.
I worked it with great conviction, sliding it skillfully over her breast.
"Come on and nibble at my nipple," she called out. "I need some action there too, baby. I want you to go the route with me. Nothing should be scared between us. Let's cut loose and really fuck."
Her aggressiveness was really setting loose the fires within my body. Once more I had completely forgotten who she was. I just knew that she was a very sexy lady who wanted some sex thrills fast.
I kept working my tongue over her left breast until I finally decided to put it to work over her right breast.
I soon began to drill my tongue over her tit, causing her whole body to rock as she lay there on the rug, wiggling her hips and her breasts.
"Keep up that sucking," she said. "Darling, you're really finding the range. Oh, I like what you're doing to me. You're really doing something for me, sweetheart. Keep on driving your tongue."
While my tongue worked thoroughly over her breast, first on one, then the other, I reached out with my fingers and allowed them to clutch her ass-cheeks ever so tightly.
After I had thoroughly sucked both breasts, leaving a trail of saliva on each, and had sucked her nipples, Sheila was inflamed with passion.
"Go down on my snatch, honey, work your tongue over it," she said. "I need for you to eat me. Oh, I need your juices in my pussy. Go ahead, honey, turn loose. Cut loose with everything you've got. Oh, my dear, I need you so bad, I really need your action."
I could tell from the way that her hips were unrestrainedly churning that she desperately needed some contact.
I slipped my tongue against her slit, maneuvering slowly, sliding ever so smoothly over her snatch.
I began at a slow, methodical tempo, wanting to give both of us as much action as possible. But she then felt it was time to move into a more torrid type of activity.
"Suck me faster," she called out. "Come on, my dear, and work your tongue. Oh, slide it over my snatch. I need it so bad, baby. Oh, come on and suck my pussy. Suck the juices out of me, dear. Ah, I need it, oh, do I ever need it. Suck me, baby, oh, suck me. Drive your tongue into me, drive it fast, oh, drive it fast."
While my tongue worked fervently over her mound, she decided that she needed some additional activity as well.
"Finger my ass-hole," she called out eagerly. "Come on and pump your finger high into my ass-hole. Drive it into me, darling. Oh, I really want you to plunge it. Come on, dear, oh, I need your action. Come on and give it to me. Come on and finger fuck me."
I had never stuck my finger up a girl's ass-hole up until that point, but the idea appeared very intriguing to me.
I reached out with my right index finger, allowing it to probe smoothly against her anus. She had a nice tight ass, which made the whole activity seem that much more delectable.
"Suck my snatch," she called out. "Send that finger higher up into my ass-hole, dear. I need faster movements, sharper movements. Come on and finger fuck me, darling, I really need the devastating action. Come on and plunge your finger into me."
While my tongue efforts became freer and more rapid than before, I sent my finger stabbing high into her ass-hole. I drove it with complete freedom, pumping it high and hard, driving it into her.
From the very moment that I began to finger nick her more briskly than before, she came alive with a greater sense of passionate awakening.
Her whole body trembled as the finger fucking continued at a brisk level. I pumped the finger into her ass-hole and simultaneously sucked out her mound, working my tongue ever so eagerly against her passionate box.
"Ah, you're driving me wild, dear," she called out. "Come on and keep fingering my ass-hole. Oh, that's where it's at. Ah, honey, it's so good. Come on and fuck me. Come on and suck me. Oh, suck me, suck me, finger fuck me. Keep the action going. Oh, don't let up. That's the kind of action that I really love."
My finger kept tearing into her intensely and my tongue was working with great swiftness around her mound. I kept darting and stabbing it inside her pussy, pushing her ever closer to a spirited climax.
While my tongue was bringing itself to bear, working feverishly, pushing her closer to climax, she lay back and gasped. She enjoyed what I was doing, and as I drove her closer to climax, she began holding on for dear life.
She reached out behind me and began to clutch at my buttocks. It felt good to have her fingers hanging on to my ass-cheeks for dear life as I resolutely plunged my tongue into her pussy.
"Come on and suck me," she called out. "Ah, you've practically got me there. Keep working your talented tongue, dear. You don't know how close I am. Oh, just a few more of these beautiful stabs. That will do it, darling. Oh, will it ever. I want it, honey, I really want it."
While her'fingers were clinging more tightly than ever to my ass-cheeks, the juices began to spill out of her pussy.
I braced myself and with great eagerness attacked her mound, going after every droplet of juice that spilled out of it.
"Ah, yes, go after it," she called out. "Eat my pussy juices, honey. Oh, I really love what you did to me, baby. What a suck."
When I finally turned my tongue loose from her pussy and my finger loose from her ass-hole, I was in another state of passionate ecstasy.
All I had to do was take a look at my hard dick and it told the story. But hell, I didn't even have to look, I was feeling the bristling passions throughout my body and wanted in the worst way to explode my juices once more.
"Plunge your cock into my pussy," she called out. "I see how hard you are, I see how bad you want it. Come on and orgasm again, honey. Come on, drill your cock inside my pussy. I want you, you like the tightness in my pussy, you like my snatch, drive your cock inside it."
"Oh, you make a guy feel so great."
"I'm all sex, honey."
"I know, baby. That's why I like you so much."
"I want to feel your big mammoth cock inside my pussy."
"I'll plant it inside there and give you a real fuck."
"I know you will. One that I'll be very proud of."
"You can count on me, honey."
"I'm sure that I can."
"Oh yes."
I leaned forward and let my lips plunge dev-astatingly against hers. She threw her arms around me, holding onto me tightly, clinging to my body, becoming ever more enamored with me. She wanted me to plunge my hot meat inside her and was I ever willing to do it.
"Come on and fuck me," she called out. "Oh, stick your dick inside my pussy."
I heaved my body forward, and as I entered her, she reached out and let her legs clasp around my body.
Back and forth I kept on thrusting, pumping my penis ever deeper into her snatch while she threw her hips into gear.
"Ah, that's good, ah, that's great, ah, what a fuck," she called out. "Come on and keep sticking your meat inside me. Plunge your cock, baby. Oh, fuck me, oh, come on and fuck, ah, what a fuck."
While her legs continued to cling to me and as her body trembled, I kept up my steady flow of activity. I plunged my cock into her, driving it into her vaginal walls with great ecstasy, fucking with everything I had.
"That's good," she exclaimed. "Come on and fuck it, honey, keep your cock inside my pussy. Oh, yes, I'm juicing, juicing, juicing."
When I felt the drops of cuntal precipitation shooting from her, it made me all the more determined to shoot off my juices inside her pussy.
I kept sliding my hot dick ever deeper into her mound, dominating her with every thrust, pushing ever closer to climax.
"Fuck, oh, fuck it," she called out.
As I got set to unleash my hot flow of juices, I leaned forward and let my tongue splash against hers.
My body began to shudder as the stream of white hot cream spilled out of me and into her mound.
It was as exhilarating an experience as I'd ever received in my whole life.
Everything seemed so unreal, right down to the moment when I finished the fuck.
I zipped up my trousers and threw myself down on the sofa. I was exhausted from fucking her, and she just couldn't seem to get enough.
As I lay there, I watched Sheila slip her clothes back on.
She reacted a lot more calm about everything than I did.
Once she was dressed again, I got up from the sofa.
"I guess I'd better be going," I said.
"Oh, no. Why don't you stay and have another drink with me."
"No thanks."
"If you won't have another drink, how about me fixing you something to eat?"
"I've really got to be going," I said stubbornly.
"Very well."
She threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug, then kissed my lips.
I felt absolutely stunned.
Here I had waited all this time to find out my mother's identity. I finally found out who she was, and had gone to see her, only to engage her in the most stimulating sex I'd ever known in my life.
Even though I've got her address and could write to her any time that I wanted to, I have deliberately held off from doing any writing.
Every time that I even contemplate the thought of putting my ideas down on paper, I get to thinking about how terrible it was for me to have sex with my own mother.
The whole thing really bothers me, and I don't know how to resolve my problem.
I still feel ashamed, and you don't know how hard it was for me to tell you everything. It took a lot of probing on your part before you got me to open up. Then when I did, I felt a little better about it. I have to discuss this with someone.
I wonder every now and then how she must feel. I wonder if she had expected to hear from me again. I have no way of knowing just what her feelings are. I just know that I feel a tremendous sense of hurt over the fact that things were carried that far.
SUMMARY
I could see that Glen C.'s sensitivity was making the problem that much more difficult to resolve.
He had wondered who his mother was for a number of years, and after finally discovering her identity, it was very hard for him to reconcile himself to the fact that he could be attracted to her physically and would even carry on with her in a sexual manner.
Once more I had quite a job ahead of me, that of trying to calm him down as I spoke with him.
"I think you've taken everything all too personally," I told Glen. "I know it's much easier for me to say that than it would be for you, since I am admittedly a non-concerned party, except to the extent of wanting to help you. But I think you're going to have to start looking at this less emotionally and a little more logically."
"I wish you'd be more precise," Glen said.
"I will be. I was leading right into the next point. I just wanted to get you to stop feeling so guilty. Guilt is a destructive emotion. You see, for one thing your whole life is one of non-reality in a sense. You didn't know who your mother was."
"But how does that give me the right to have sex with her?"
"You have to analyze things on a step by step basis. First of all, there was this curiosity about her, and then, when you finally met her, you were a very striking young man and she was a very stunning woman. There was this initial shock, and after that, you both started feeling these waves of desire. Isn't that about right?"
"That's certainly the way I felt," Glen nodded.
"I think that we can be almost completely certain that she was feeling the same way," I exclaimed. "I mean, based upon the way that you told this entire story. She started getting extra hot, and then the next thing you knew you were engaging in sex with her. Isn't that about the way it happened?"
"Yes, it was."
"She seduced you, didn't she?" I asked bluntly.
"As a matter-of-fact, she did."
"Then I'm correct in my statement that you're blaming yourself entirely too much."
"Do you really think so?"
"You were simply bowled over by an older woman, and one who, in addition, happened to be a very mature and extremely attractive. Doesn't that make some sense to you?"
"Yes, I can see your point."
"That's good. That means that we're making headway. At any rate, what I'm trying to get across is that she felt very uncomfortable. First of all, she attempted to deny the fact that you were even her son. That was an era that she was just as happy to forget about. Often when people are seeking to escape from something, sex provided them with what they construe to be a perfect outlet."
"I never stopped to think about that. Maybe you have something there."
"I believe that I do. I'd think that over in every detail. You see, first of all there was this desire to escape, and secondly there was you. You happened to be very attractive to her, and she acted upon her impulses. She's a very confused woman, Glen, but I do believe she loves you in her own way. I think that the big reason that she wanted to adopt you out was to insure you of having a better home and of not having to go through some of the painful circumstances that surrounded her life."
"I think that that's true," Glen said, tears beginning to surface in his eyes.
"If you really do love your mother, Glen, I think you should correspond with her."
"But what if we get drawn into sex again?"
"I think that that's a problem you can handle. I really think that as you gain in maturity and insight, and as you get to know this woman better and she begins to realize that she is your mother and that sexual activity would be detrimental between you, things I feel will start to fall in place. At least you should make the effort and write her a letter. I have a hunch that she might be crying inside very bitterly over what happened. She yielded to temptation, and considering all the aspects of the problem we've already discussed, it isn't that difficult to see."
"I must admit that you put the whole thing into much better perspective for me," Glen said. "I will write her a letter."
About one month later I heard from Glen.
He told me that his mother had answered his letter, and that she had expressed her apology over having gotten carried away in a sexual act with him.
She said that it would never happen again, but that she wanted him to come and see her whenever he had an opportunity.
Olga R. came to me in the same state of confused depression that had been a part of Glen C.
I did my best to bring her out of the doldrums, and it wasn't easy, considering how guilt ridden she felt about what she had done.
It should be noted that, quite frequently, where individuals wound up harboring the most pronounced feelings of sexual despair, these feelings were inextricably related to guilt.
Guilt makes the individual immersed within its harmful framework think in less rational terms and more in emotional terms.
One should reflect upon the aforementioned while analyzing the fascinating case study details relating to Olga R., our next subject.
CASE FIVE
Olga R. was an alert, intelligent physically well endowed woman of thirty-eight with light brown hair.
She exhibited great maturity on most matters, but when it came to discussing her associations with her son Doug, she appeared to be overcome with uncertainty.
Following is Olga's story:
One night recently my husband Jim and I came to a terrible impasse.
I wanted sex badly, and Jim came home very tired. It was becoming increasingly more apparent as time went by just how tough it was to get
Jim to provide me with the kind of sexual activity that I felt I definitely needed.
He worked very hard on his job, for which I was grateful, but a girl needs a little loving now and then, and I just plain wasn't getting it.
This particular evening Jim, despite the fact that he wasn't feeling any too good, had several drinks, hoping that it would loosen him up and cause him to turn tiger in bed.
It turned out that the drinks, if anything, hampered him and he just couldn't seem to get his cock up.
I did everything I could to help him, but after a long effort, I finally gave up.
"Damned, but I'm embarrassed," he exclaimed. "You know, I sure am burned up at you. You knew that I wasn't feeling so hot but you still insisted on it"
"I wasn't trying to make you do anything you didn't want to do, darling. But I am very hungry for sex. It's been a long time."
"Oh, stop reminding me. You really love to jump down my throat"
"Don't be paranoid, dear," I said. "I don't enjoy anything of the kind. It's just that I need it awful bad right now."
"Well I'm obviously not up to it."
"You're certainly up to doing one thing that I would enjoy very much. You could perform on me orally. I'd sure love to feel your tongue in my box."
"I'm too tired," he rolled over in the bed, showing some embarrassment. "Let's just forget it for tonight."
"Then when are we going to have sex?" I demanded point blank.
"Oh, who knows," he shrugged. "Go to sleep. Stop being a sex maniac."
At first I almost flew off the handle, but, after reconsidering, I decided to drop the subject for the time being.
It was the height of absurdity for him to call me a sex maniac, since I was anything but that. As a matter-of-fact, if I had been all that demanding sexually, I would have probably severed my ties with Jim a long time before.
It really burned me up to hear him talk this way, and it took me a long time to get to sleep that night. For one thing, I had these unresolved feelings within me.
I really needed sex.
That weekend, while my husband was tied up with business, I was set to take my son and daughter on a fishing outing at the cabin that we had up in the mountains.
My daughter decided to stay at her girlfriend's house that weekend, so that left my son Doug and I.
Doug had just turned fifteen, but he had a way to act that made him seem a lot more mature than that. He was very handsome, reminding me a whole lot of his father in the early days of our courtship.
The first afternoon, in place of wanting to go fishing, as I thought he would want to, Doug instead suggested that we both go swimming.
I put on my bright blue bikini, walking with him toward the lake.
I couldn't help but notice how he had developed as I observed his tall lean figure in his trunks.
And the thing that I really noticed was the bulge in his trunks. Apparently he was developing a good deal, and at a time when I wasn't getting any sex, I couldn't help but feel a little in the way of curiosity as to what it would be like to have sex with Doug.
I quickly dismissed these thoughts, though, focusing on our swimming escapade.
We splashed leisurely in the water, and the longer that we did so, the happier I felt. I loved Doug, and perhaps a good weekend away from the burdens of my home life would give me a better slant on things. Just maybe I could successfully manage to get my husband into bed for sexual purposes.
After we swam in the lake, we came ashore.
Doug ran over and picked up a towel, which he used to dry me off thoroughly.
I must admit that I began to feel waves of excitement as a result of his efforts. It really made me feel good to be touched by him in that way.
After my body was dried off, I reached out and grabbed the towel from Doug. I began to work it over his body. When I came to his crotch, I had a firm desire to run the towel over his cock.
My heart began to pound nervously, and I considered whether I ought to be that bold or not. I decided not to. He would certainly know that it was not an accident, or would at least maintain strong suspicions.
I couldn't for the life of me allow him to entertain such suspicions. After all, I kept thinking, I was his mother.
We walked back to the cabin, and I announced that I wanted to take a nap before fixing dinner.
"Fine. I'll go do a little hiking in the mountains," Doug told me.
"You really are full of energy."
"This really does something for me, coming up here like this."
"Me too," I said.
I took a nap, then awakened after about an hour. I continued to just lie in bed, enjoying the restful atmosphere of which I was a part.
I finally heard the door close, and also heard Doug's footsteps as he walked toward the hall.
I was overcome with a feeling of excitement. There I was, lying in the middle of the bed, wearing nothing but my skimpy panties and bra. I wondered just what he would do, how he would react in the event that I were to call him in and have him examine my body.
I know damned well that I have a good body, and it's enough to turn just about any man on. But whether I ought to turn my own son on was another question.
I decided against any such show of bravado, so I got up from the bed and put on my blouse and slacks.
As I began to dress, I started to regret the fact that I hadn't made such a move. I wondered just what was getting into me. I had these tense feelings circulating through my entire body, and I felt like pepper down between my legs. I needed oh so bad to have some man slip his long cock into my pussy, or at the very least, I need a good pussy suck.
I got up and fixed dinner for the two of us, and we ate heartily, having enjoyed some outdoor exercise earlier in the day.
After dinner Doug did something that surprised me. He opened up the refrigerator and pulled out a six pack of beer.
"Where did that come from?" I asked.
"Oh, I bought it at the store down the road."
"How did you ever manage to get away with that? You're under age."
"Oh, I wore dark glasses, and besides, I look old for my age."
"Yes, you do. Well, I'm not all that happy about you drinking beer."
"I drink stronger than that," he laughed. "I drink whiskey quite a bit of the time."
"I'm not any too happy about hearing that you do these things."
"Gosh, Mom, a guy has to do a little living, doesn't he?"
"You're just a boy. You've got plenty of time ahead of you, believe me."
"How about having a beer with me?"
I hesitated a moment.
"Alright, just one," I said.
That was my intention at the moment, but that wasn't the way that things ultimately turned out.
We wound up splitting those six beers, and by the time I finished, I was in a pretty giddy state. Not only that, but I was feeling a lot more reckless than I guess I should have.
I kept focusing my eyes in the direction of my son's crotch, and the longer I looked at his huge cock, the more enchanted I became.
I kept on watching him, and as I did, he returned the favor, looking at me.
I wondered if I had it in me to make a move toward him, or, better yet, whether I was a big enough fool to do something like that.
I finally got up after finishing the last beer, walking over toward him.
Before I was fully aware of what was happening, I leaned my head forward and kissed his lips.
While my lips were plunging against his, I threw my arms around him.
We melted enchantingly in each other's arms, and when I finally came up for air, it was only to give myself ah opportunity to slip my tongue inside his mouth.
Back and forth our tongues collided, and the longer that they wrapped around one another, the greater the degree of determination that filled my inner being.
I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling a greater desperation than ever as our tongues continued to stab one another.
I withdrew my tongue from his mouth, then suggested in a breathy tone:
"Let's go into the bedroom."
"Oh yes, right now."
"Do you think I'm terrible for acting this way?"
"You can seduce me any time," Doug winked.
As we walked into the bedroom together, he reached out and slapped my ass-cheeks several times. He was demonstrating to me just how eager he was to engage in some sex activity.
Doug threw his arms around me once we got into the bedroom, totally overwhelming me with his manliness.
When he turned his arms loose, he unbuttoned my blouse. He removed it, then exercised his fingers swiftly over my bra.
He paused long enough to look at my breasts, but before he did anything to them, he unzipped my slacks. Then he pulled and tugged at my slacks, removing them, then got down to the last order of business in the undressing department, that of taking off my panties.
He snapped the elastic against my waist several times. The tension built between us as he reached out and tugged downward on the panties, pulling them down my legs and off of me altogether.
"I really want you," he said. "Ah, those tits of yours. They really deserve some action."
Once he had me totally naked, Doug ran his fingers up and down my entire body. He focused first on my breasts, then my waist, then down to my hips. He then moved all the way down to my ankles, even grabbing hold of my toes and playing with them.
I felt all kinds of wild little tingles from his toe touching, and I began to pant wildly from the cumulative efforts he was putting forth.
He reached out and toyed with my nipples, and as he did, he stuck his head down between my legs.
"I want to taste you," he said.
At that point my whole body came alive with a new excitement. I had wanted Jim to suck my snatch the other night, but he had declined. Now my own son was only too happy to take me up on the same proposition. Only in this case I didn't have to ask him.
It felt good to experience the dedicated warmth of his tongue moving ever so convincingly over my snatch. He flipped his tongue with just the right movement, fast, but not so fast that it defeated the purpose.
His stimulating movements continued, and eventually he did begin to step up his pace, sucking me more quickly than he had before. But by that time I was ready for quicker tongue movements, and as they registered on my snatch, my body began to flip back and forth.
"Keep sucking." I called out to him. "My darling, oh, you're a life saver. I needed this so bad. Oh, did I ever need it You're wonderful, baby, oh, I like your tongue movements."
With Doug giving me that kind of conscientious tongue movement, I knew that it wouldn't be long before he succeeded in bringing me off.
My ass-cheeks bounced with magnificent grace up and down on the bed as he kept up his tongue stabbing. He made Certain that he distributed his movements over my entire vagina, letting it sweep over every crevice of my snatch.
"Keep your tongue moving," I called out "Don't let up, honey. It's just too good. Oh, your tongue, oh, can you ever drive it. The way you're working it, honey, oh, keep it sliding."
He worked it for a few more strokes. By that point I could not hold out for any longer.
I could feel the juices stored up within me, and they were ready to extinguish themselves from my passion pit.
The fires welled deep inside me, and as I began to experience the joys of orgasmic relief, I heaved a loud sigh.
"Eat it eat me," I called out breathlessly. "Oh, honey, go after it. Ah, you're doing beautifully. Oh, suck it"
He collected every drop of my joy juice, then released his tongue from my mound. I still felt a good deal of fire down there in my moist mound, and needed for him to put it out.
"You're dealing with a sex fiend," I called out
"Just because you're hot?" he laughed. "That's normal enough."
"I need some more tonguing."
"So you like it that well."
"Oh yes. Turn your tongue loose again baby. Come on and suck my snatch. Ah, I need it, I really need it, ah, I need to juice again."
"That's fascinating. You really are on fire."
"Am I ever, baby. You're just the guy to put the fires out. Do it with ycur tongue."
"Gangway, darling, because that's just what I intend to do."
He slipped his tongue inside my mound once more. This time he didn't start off at a slow level. He recognized that there was a crying need within me to juice, so he was more than happy to oblige.
As his tongue explored the moist crevices of my pussy, he reached out and clutched at my legs.
I liked the way that he hung onto my firm folds of flesh, and as he clung to my legs he worked his tongue faster than before, moving it spiritedly over my hot snatch.
"Eat it, eat it," I called out in a steady cadence, "come on, baby, suck me. Oh, I want you to drive your tongue inside my mound. Oh, darling, what great tongue movements. Ah, that's so good. Keep on with the tonguing. Oh, do I love it"
He kept up his brilliant efforts, letting his tongue dart at a steady pace, whiplashing it inside my passion pit as he pushed me that much closer to climax.
Once again my legs and ass-cheeks began to kick out in front of me. I felt a certain wild unrestrained animalism that I hadn't experienced in quite some time. Ever since my husband turned celibate, as a matter-of-fact.
Now that I was getting some hot, eager stabbing inside my mound, I was feeling like a different woman. The fires kept on surging inside my body, particularly in my pussy, as he kept up his sharp, piercing stabs.
A few strokes later I recognized that it was time for me to juice once again.
I reached out and clutched at his back, holding onto it ever so tightly as the juices began to spill out of my pussy.
I reached out and let my legs come into contact with his head. It felt so good to touch him that way as the juices kept spraying out of my pussy and into his waiting mouth.
"Eat it, oh, eat it," I called.
Once more he finished the job in grand style, gobbling down every droplet of juice from my snatch.
After he was finished with the cunt sucking, my loving son was set to get involved in some more brisk activity.
It was his cock that needed serious attention, and I was more than determined to provide him with more action than he could ever possibly need.
I was happy over the fact that he had done such an excellent job of pleasing me, so I in turn was determined to please him.
I put my tongue to work on the tip of his cock, teasing it with my slow, polite stabs, getting him into the spirit of things.
"Ah, that's real nice," he said. "I like that kind of movement, honey."
It felt strange for him to call me honey, but then again it was weird as hell for me to be balling with my own son in the first place.
My head bobbed up and down as I began to extend my strokes, running my tongue down the surface of his entire cock.
While I was tonguing his prick, I reached down and allowed my fingers to go to work on his balls. I fastened my fingertips to his testicles, hanging on, plunging my fingers against them as I sucked his long dick.
"Ah, this is it," he said. "Let her rip, baby, suck my cock. It won't hurt one bit if you also suck my balls a little."
He gave me a brilliant idea, one that I was eager to follow up on. After a few more sharp tongue strokes over his cock, I abandoned my movement there and let my tongue go to work on his balls.
My tongue raced over his testicles, plunging against them with rapidity. While his body shook, he reached down and ran his fingers through my hair. It felt so good to have him providing me with stimulation of that sort while I kept up my cocksucking.
I continued to thoroughly drive my tongue up and down his cock, pushing him ever closer, driving him to the brink of orgasm.
"Suck me, suck me," he said, "oh, what movements you've got. You've got a jackpot tongue, baby, one that is going to bring me off. You bet. You're going to bring my prick off, you're going to get me to explode."
I drilled his cock a few more times, then got set for him to go off.
I worked my tongue over the balls, then back to his cock and back to his balls again. The alternating action was really getting to him.
"Go back to the cock," he called out. "You've just got to. Oh, I'm going to juice in your mouth. Come on and go after my hot stuff. I want to orgasm in your mouth, fuck you in the mouth, baby, really give you some stimulating sensations. You're going to love every bit of it Oh, you'll love it when I shoot my juices inside you."
A few strokes later I began to find out just what precisely he was talking about. Some hot white droplets of jissum filtered into my mouth. At that point I recognized that there would be more to follow, so I sucked even more wildly, probing his prick with my tongue, doing everything that I could to get him to shoot his orgasmic liquids inside me.
Finally the deluge hit. The hot white cream began to spill out of him. It surged like crazy, splashing into my mouth as I gobbled with everything that I had, eager to suck out every drop of juice from his organ.
"You've really got the movements down pat," he said. "Right down to the final suck. Just keep on drilling your tongue. Keep on swallowing my hot cum. You want it, you know you want it, oh, I'm going to give it to you, come on, honey, eat it, oh, I want you to eat that stuff. Eat my hot juice."
He ground his fingers against my hips as he continued to pour his flaming white pecker juices into my mouth.
I gobbled like crazy, eating his cum until I thought that it was going out of style. I liked the way that it gushed, and I was right there to receive every tender, priceless droplet.
Once I finished gobbling his juices, I looked over at his cock, discovering that it had gone down very little.
"You've got a horny guy on your hands," he said.
"I don't want you to fuck yourself dry."
"Why not?" Doug laughed. "That's the only way to have any fun in this world. The only thing worth doing these days is fucking."
"You really believe that? "
"You're damned right I do. How about reaching out and giving me a hand job? That will get me good and hot. I mean, even hotter than I am now. Then I guess you know what I'll do. I'll fuck your cunt. I really want to slam my peter into your pussy. I bet it's good and tight. I really envy Dad, getting to fuck you that way all the time."
"Let's not go into him."
"I guess it's better that we don't," he grinned. "After all, this is just between the two of us."
"It had better be," I said with just a tone of fear in my voice.
"It will be. Come on and start giving me the hand job."
I reached out and allowed the fingers of my right hand to begin to squeeze the tip of his cock. I worked my fingers up and down his long, erect instrument, and as I did, he lay back and enjoyed the movements that I provided.
"Ah, I like that," he called out. "Your fingers are really quick to the touch, baby, just keep them working. Oh, I really want you to put them to work on my prick. That's it, oh, I like your pumping movements. Confine yourself just to the base of my cock for the time being, baby."
I did exactly as he told me, concentrating on that one area of his cock while he lay back in fascination.
"O.K., now work your fingers over my cock and balls at the same time," he said. "That's what I want you to do, baby, let's really get some wild action going."
I was stoutly determined to do everything that I could to please Doug. He had brought me out of the sexual wilderness that had been such a part of me, giving me a sexual purpose once more.
No matter how wacky the whole relationship might have been, I wasn't going to throw it over at that point. I was enjoying all too much the idea of working my fingers around his cock and balls and watching him literally going out of his gourd with satisfaction.
"You're just too much," he called out "Go ahead, baby. Oh, I want you to finger me. Come on and work your fingers over my cock and balls. Oh, yes, that's nice, baby, work your fingers."
My fingers were drilling ever so spryly, picking up the pace. The longer that I maneuvered them over his cock and balls, the greater the degree of hunger I could see expressing itself on his face.
Every now and then he would close his eyes and squint heaving a loud, breathy gasp as he enjoyed the movements I supplied.
"That's nice, oh, it's so nice," he called out. "Keep working your fingers, sweetheart. I really like that. Oh, do those fingers ever move. They work so briskly. I like the way you work them over my prick. That's it keep up the action, step up the pace, move them faster. Ah, oh, good, the way you're moving your fingers over my balls. I really like it. Those double sensations, you just can't beat them."
I kept on moving my fingers up and down his cock, taking in every solid inch of it. He kept lying there, gasping, waiting for the opportunity to plunge his penis into me.
"Oh, you're getting me too excited," he shouted at one point.
"Do you want me to turn loose?"
"You're going to have to pretty fast. There's just so much of this kind of action I can take."
"I love pushing you all the way to the brink. I don't want you to explode this way."
"Oh no. I want to juice inside your pussy."
"I want to give you that chance."
"Yes, my dear. That's the way we want to do it"
He reached out and grabbed my thighs, clutching them ever so tightly. He wanted to give me every bit of support that he could while I was doing the job with my fingers, moving them briskly over his prick and testicles.
"Keep stepping it up," he said. "You keep it up a little while longer. Oh, you're quickly pushing me to the point where I'm going to have to make you stop."
"I'll bet you're feeling the steam coming out of that prick."
"You'd better believe it, my dear."
I was buoyed on by his spirited statements, working my fingers relentlessly up and down his cock, maneuvering the fingers of my other hand around his balls at the same time.
"Ah, that's so good," he said. "You can stop now, baby. Come on and turn your fingers loose. I've got to give my prick some freedom."
The moment that I excitedly dropped my fingers from his cock and balls, I lay back, anticipating his vigorous forward movements.
He reached out and grabbed my thighs once more, clutching them for dear life as he pushed his body forward.
His thundering cock made brisk contact inside my mound. He plunged with everything he was worth, fucking me good and hard in my cunt right from the very beginning.
I liked the fact that there was no nonsense where he was concerned. Doug was going all out, enjoying every frantic movement that he put forth as he plunged his huge penis deep inside me, pumping with great energy as he moved ever closer to climax.
While the hot, drilling cock movements continued, he shifted his finger action from my thighs to my ass-cheeks.
He squeezed my buttocks until the skin turned white. Even though the pressure hurt me a little, I wasn't about to complain. I was enjoying those steady grinding cock movements all too much.
"Drive your prick into me," I exclaimed. "Ah, do it even faster. Pump it as quickly as you can. I want your very best, darling."
"You like the way my cock is pumping?"
"Just keep it up. Work it as fast as you can."
After a few more jolting stabs inside my fiery pussy, he maneuvered his fingers over toward my breasts.
I liked the way that he grabbed hold of them and completely took command of the fuck, running his fingers over my tits while his cock kept on implanting itself ever deeper inside my pussy.
My body restlessly pushed back and forth, my legs clasping together as I rolled with every stabbing movement. I wanted to give him the best fuck imaginable, and indeed do the same thing for myself.
While his prick was continually driving like a piston ever deeper into my pussy, I reached out and ran my fingers up and down his back.
I loved feeling the powerful muscles, and could sense the degree of excitement that he felt just from touching him. All the while he kept on slamming his cock forward, drilling it ever quicker and harder inside my mound.
"Keep pumping," I called out. "Ah, you need to keep pumping this thing into me. We both need it, honey. Work it as fast as you can. Ah, that's nice. Oh, it's so nice. Keep driving your cock inside me."
His fingers clasped against my breasts even more firmly than before. He reached out every, now and then and ran his fingertips firmly over my nipples, enjoying every finger and cock stroke that he put forth.
He kept plunging his pecker repeatedly inside my mound, working his way ever closer toward that grand moment of climax.
A few strokes later, I heaved a loud sigh.
"Oh, there I go," I exclaimed. "I can't take any more of this, my dear. I'm juicing."
"Hang on, because I'm not far behind," he asserted. "Ah, just a few more strokes, that's all I need."
I could tell from the manner in which he was clutching my breasts ever so tightly that he was getting set to unleash his hot juices inside my pussy.
He gasped a few times, then Doug let out a howl as I observed the first few droplets of his hot cock juice spilling from the end of his pecker.
The steamy joy juice kept spilling out of him relentlessly as he sighed, his body quivering as the orgasm took shape.
"Ah, that's nice, ah, that's nice," I said.
"I'm going to keep pouring it into you."
"Drive the cock into me."
"I will, sweetheart. Oh, what a pussy you've got."
"Is it tight enough for you?"
"It's the tightest"
"I'm glad to hear that"
"I keep hearing all this talk from guys about chicks that have been married for a long time don't have tight pussies. That's a lot of bullshit."
"I'm glad you think so," I laughed. "I never believed that nonsense myself;"
"Naw, these people who say those things don't know what they're talking about."
I remained stretched out in the bed after he got up from it and had put his clothes back on.
I lay there for a little while before getting up. I began to think about the dramatic consequences of what had happened. I wondered what my husband Jim would ever think if he knew, or even suspected, what had gone on in my bedroom.
But I just couldn't seem to get enough of my son that weekend. The following day, after we had had breakfast, I reached down underneath the table and began to pump up and down on his prick.
"Hey, that's something else," he laughed. "A hand job this early in the morning."
"Let's go to bed. I want to fuck you."
"That sounds like a groovy idea."
"Oh yes, I'm definitely in heat."
He stripped my clothes clean from my body, then had a ball removing my bra and panties.
When he took off the bra, he allowed his fingers to travel lengthily over my breasts, which he alternately squeezed and massaged.
After he was through with my tits, he slid my panties ever so slowly down my legs, then clasped his fingers around my thighs.
All the while I was getting so steamed up that I didn't know what to do.
"I want to hump your behind," he said. "I really want to sodomize you."
"My God, you are getting wild."
"You will love it, honey. Sure it will sting a little bit but it's worth it. It's worth it for all the fun you'll have."
"You know, maybe I am going crazy, but I'll give you the go-ahead. Come on and fuck my ass-hole."
"You won't regret it, baby."
"No, I don't suppose I will. I don't suppose I'll regret anything I did with you. It's all just too much fun, baby."
"I feel exactly the same way."
"Send your cock into me, darling."
"Ah yes. Will you turn over on your stomach for me?"
"I'll be glad to stand on my head if that's what you want me to do."
"If that happened to be the beat position for fucking, I'd ask you to do it. But there's no reason to do that."
"I suppose not," I laughed.
I rolled over on my stomach, spreading my legs, then let out a sigh the moment that Doug slammed his right index finger into my ass-hole.
"I'll bet you like that," he said.
"It feels downright great."
"You're damned right. I'm going to keep that up for a while."
"Ah, I love the finger fucking."
"I knew you would."
Doug kept on plunging his finger ever deeper into my ass-hole. The longer that he stabbed, the greater the flow of electricity that emerged between us.
When he felt that he had sufficiently warmed me up to the task, he withdrew his finger, then shoved his cock forward.
I squinted a little when he made his initial penetration, since it really did hurt. But not to the point where it was going to discourage me. Quite the contrary. I liked what he was doing. I enjoyed experiencing those hot, delicious stabs that his cock put forth inside my anus.
"Fuck me, oh, come on and fuck," I called out
"It doesn't sound like you're doing badly," he laughed.
"Oh no, I love the action. Keep it up."
He kept on grinding his cock deep inside my ass-hole, plunging it into my rectum, pushing ever closer to climax.
A few strokes later, he was unable to withhold his liquids any longer.
With one swift stab, the supply of hot creamy cum began to spill out of his cock and into my ass-hole.
"Ah, yes, that's it," he said. "I really loved plunging it into you, baby. What an ass-hole you've got. Your ass-hole's beautiful, and so is your pussy."
That's the way it went that entire wild weekend. I had many misgivings about our fucking since then.
You know, a few times around the house, when both my husband and daughter were gone, I went down on him. I was afraid to go any further for fear that I would get more hooked on him than I already was. On top of that, I knew that I could always zip his trousers back up if anybody came into the house.
I feel terribly frustrated. I can see that I'm probably hurting my son, but thu way I figure it, if I don't get myself some sex release from Doug, I'm just not going to get it at all, and that will make me a very unhappy woman indeed.
I guess you'd have to say that I'm a pretty screwed up woman, and I don't know what to do to make matters better.
SUMMARY
I found Olga R.'s case enormously interesting, and I liked the fact that she was perfectly willing to communicate with me in a candid fashion.
We got to talking some more after she had finished her narrative. The longer that I probed, the more facts I was able to uncover.
"When did you relationship with your husband start to deteriorate in a physical sense?" I asked her.
"Oh, when he decided that he was going to become a great captain of industry," she said with obvious bitterness in her voice. "He started climbing in the corporate hierarchy, and next thing I knew he was only around for a little while every night and even then he was so dead tired that he would go to sleep in his easy chair watching television. You know, I've always taken care of my body and I've always been a healthy woman with very strong sex drives. It's been awfully tough on me ever since he underwent this change."
"Have you ever attempted to do anything about that change?"
"Oh yes. I've told him many times to take things a little easier. I told him that we're well fixed in the money department, and there's absolutely no reason at all for us to have to go through something like this."
"How has he responded to your suggestions?"
"He keeps telling me that he'll think about what I've said, but he never gets around to acting on anything. He's too busy making money."
"And that's how you got drawn into sex with your son? Just out of a sense of loneliness and frustration."
"Yes, I'd explain it that way myself," she said. "I could hardly be blamed. I mean, I'm not trying to defend my conduct, but I am trying to say that there was really no way that I could keep on going the way that I was. I would have had to do something, whether it be take a lover or start balling with my son. All I know is that I needed some kind of release and I needed it fast"
"Do you really think that if your husband could give you more attention that you'd forget about having sex with your son?"
"I think that that's a very strong possibility," Olga said. "In particular, now that I have reached the point where I am really beginning to see what it can do to my son. You know, I've heard him on the telephone turning down girls that he used to talk about in a very positive way. Girls at school. Now they're just immature young upstarts as far as he is concerned. He feels that he is entitled to a relationship with somebody more mature, like me."
"Then I take it you're ready to listen to advice as far as trying to iron out your situation is concerned."
"I sure am," she said. "As a matter-of-fact, I get the feeling often that I'm in trouble. Real deep trouble. I mean, I wouldn't want to ruin my son, and I sure as hell wouldn't want to be discovered in bed with him."
"I think that there might be a way out of your wilderness. What you've got to au is just convince your husband that he needs to get away. Instead of just telling him not to work so hard, I think you ought to sell him on the idea of taking a trip."
"A trip? To where?"
"That isn't important," I shook my head. "The important thing is that he is receptive to the idea. I think it would probably be best if you would suggest a trip to some kind of a resort. Tell him that he's been looking a little tired and that you're worried about him. Instead of stressing the fact that-you need the sexual release, which he is inclined to think of as a personal need, express your concern for him. I think in the past you probably stressed your own need for sex more than anything else. Do you suppose you could have made that mistake?"
"There's a good chance I did," she admitted.
"Then what you've got to do is rectify it. You do that by playing to his needs. Indeed, that's a valid enough objective anyway. If he falls asleep on the sofa and doesn't seem to have any kind of a desire for physical exercise, then there's a lot greater-likelihood that he'll sustain a heart attack."
"That's true. He does need physical exercise. For a while there he used to play tennis and golf. He doesn't do either one anymore. At least not very often."
"So there you have it. You should stress the importance of both of you getting away. You can tell him that it would strengthen your marital bond, and it would relax both of you. You should also tell him this, since, I take it, he's very strongly concerned about his corporate life."
"It's his flesh and blood."
"That's what I thought. Well, you should emphasize to him the importance of the relaxation for one more reason. You can tell him that it would make him that much more alert in business. You can get stale from just too much mental exertion and not enough in the way of physical diversion. That's a point that you should definitely emphasize to him."
"I think you're right," he said. "At least I'll give what you've said some thought."
"I'd appreciate it if you would. I think it would be to your benefit."
"Thank you very much," Olga said sincerely.
A few weeks ago I heard from Olga. She told me that her strategy had apparently worked, and that her husband had arranged for just the two of them to get away from it all and take a vacation excursion to Jamaica.
She hoped that in the tropical sunshine, her husband would become invigorated and would want to engage her in some purposeful sex.
"I think we're on the way back," she told me hopefully.
"I believe you are too," I replied happily.
It always gives one a feeling of satisfaction to think that he has helped someone out of a dilemma.
I sincerely believe Olga's married life is back on the right plane, and that she will no longer feel a compelling urge to have sex with her young son Doug.
