Fiction

Fiction

Susan’s Very wet experiences

My name is Susan. I am a junior in college. I am a Caucasian female, 22 years old, with blond hair and blue eyes. I stand 5’7″ tall and I weigh 123 lbs. My breasts are near perfect 36 c’s with very pink thimble-like nipples and small areolae. My pussy is completely shaved. I have a relatively big clit and large thick pussy lips.
I lost my virginity when I was 14 to a guy who was 20. I have had about 30 lovers over the years and 7 of those with women. I am constantly horny and my pussy needs lots of attention. I tend to masturbate 7-8 times a day everyday.
My current boyfriend is this wonderful man named John. We have been together for over a year now and I am deeply in love with him. He is the same age as I am and he loves sex as much as I do. He is 6’5″ tall and 225 lbs. with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. He has a magnificent cock. It is 7 inches long and very thick. I love the way his cock feels inside my pussy. I love how it stretches my pussy wide as he plows his cock in and out of my very wet cunt hole.
John has been busy with his art projects and I haven’t seen him in 2 days. We talk on the phone 2-3 times a day, but I miss him. I miss kissing his lips. I miss feeling him deep inside me. I miss feeling his cock erupt inside my vagina and fill me with his cum. My pussy is in a constant state of horniness since we are apart. Just thinking about him gets my pussy sopping wet. I have to wear maxipads in my panties just to keep my pussy juices from soaking thru my panties.
I masturbate as soon as I get home from classes. I strip down to my panties and remove the maxipad and toss it in the waste basket beside my bed. My clitoris is super swollen and my pussy is dripping wet within seconds. My nipples are so erect that they tingle as my fingers lightly pluck them. My plucking becomes pinching and the pinching becomes twisting really hard. My face is flushed and when my hands finally reach my panty clad pussy, they find it is a soaking wet mess. I haven’t even started rubbing my clit and already there is a huge wet spot on the mattress.
Immediately I remove my panties and bring them up to my face to smell and taste. Some of my juices are milky white and are clinging to the panties. This I hurriedly suck off. I then rub the wet material all over my face. I suck the wet crotch into my mouth and then proceed to masturbate with my fingers. With experienced skill, the fingers of my left hand rub my clit, while 2 fingers from my right hand enter my wet vagina. My back arches and the orgasm that grips my body is so intense that it takes my breath away. I grunt through the panties in my mouth as my orgasm runs its course. I can feel my creamy juices spill over my fingers and run down the crack of my ass to puddle on the bed.
After the convulsions cease, I bring the hand that was inside my vagina up to my mouth and suck all the pussy juices from my fingers. I move my left hand to the opening of my vagina and scoop up more of my cum and lick the juices from that hand. I alternate hands down to my vagina and back up to my mouth until I am satisfied that all of the cum is cleaned up. I then relax a bit in the afterglow of orgasm. I then slowly tease my nipples until they are erect and I begin to masturbate once again. I usually masturbate 7-8 times in a row, but recently it has been closer to 12 times in a row before I pass out from exhaustion..
And still I can’t seem to scratch that itch that is deep inside my pussy.
So it was on this next morning that I awoke with a start. If I didn’t hurry, I was going to be late for my sociology class. I quickly showered and dressed and hurried out the door to my class. I was wearing a pair of very tight jeans and a pink t-shirt. I got to class just in time and sat next to my friend Samantha.
For some strange reason, I was hornier than usual and unable to concentrate on what the professor was saying. I crossed and uncrossed my legs several times and each time I did this, my engorged clitoris would rub against the seam at my crotch. I was so into the friction that I lost control and immediately started cumming. The orgasm was incredible and it took every ounce of strength not to make a single sound. My face was flushed and I was just coming down from the high when I noticed a wetness spreading out from my crotch and soaking thru my jeans. It was then that I remembered that I was in such a hurry to get to class that I forgot to add a maxi pad to my panties before leaving the house. My pussy was in such a high state of arousal because of my exposed clit rubbing inside my jeans as I walked to class.
Class had ended and I was still sitting there in shock at the blunder of my morning, when Samantha tapped me on the shoulder. She was grinning and then whispered in my ear that everything was going to be all right and that I could get cleaned up in her room which was just 2 buildings over. She offered her assistance to come to her dorm room and give me a change of clothes, so I followed her to her dorm room.
Once inside her room, Samantha found some pants and put them on the bed while I struggled to get the jeans that were way too tight off of me. The added wetness didn’t help any. Samantha saw my predicament and giggling, she walked over to me and offered her assistance to help me off with my jeans. I was so embarrassed and Samantha said not to worry…that she has had a peeing accident or two in her pants before and was glad to help me out, and not to feel bad about it. It happens she said. (God, if she only knew the truth.) We both struggled to no avail. Samantha then got on her knees in front of me. Her face mere inches from my wet crotch as her hands grabbed the material at my calves and started to yank them down. The process was very slow but eventually the jeans started to come off.
The pulling off of the skin tight jeans removed my panties as well. I was not aware of this until I felt something slippery along my clitoris. I looked down and was amazed to find that Samantha had her mouth covering my clit and her tongue was working overtime to get me off. I was so caught up in what Samantha was doing that reflexively I closed my eyes and enjoyed the ride. Well it didn’t take long until I was cumming and cumming hard! I pulled Samantha’s face hard into my pussy as my orgasm swept over me.
I cried out that I was cumming! My orgasm was fierce and I came and came and came. When Samantha finally pulled free from my pussy, her eyes were glassy and her lips, chin and neck were visibly wet with my pussy juices. She smiled up at me before inserting 3 fingers forcefully inside my still very wet and very horny vagina. My juices dripped down her arm as she reamed out my cunt with her fingers until I was at the point of cumming a second time. Samantha sensed this and with her other hand she started rubbing my clit. I came so hard this time that my knees gave way and I landed on top of Samantha’s stomach.
Samantha had just removed her fingers from my cunt when my orgasm came splashing forth.
To be continued…

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Fiction

Vacation with my family – part I

This is the beginning of my story about a lot of fucking. This story will contain incest so if you don’t like it or don’t want to read it, choose another story. Have fun and please write comments and vote.

Fiction

Catherine’s First Threesome, part 1

It had been an interesting evening so far. It was Friday night and my boyfriend, Devon, and I had been out clubbing. We’d hit a few bars and met up with Scott, a good friend of Devon’s. We’d just come back to the house and were relaxing over a few drinks and listening to some music. I was feeling good, not quite drunk but very, very buzzed. I felt warm and relaxed, definitely more than comfortable. Scott was sitting beside me on the couch, closer than was actually necessary; our legs were touching and his right arm was thrown across the top of the couch behind my back, almost as if he’d drape it across my shoulders. The fingers of his right hand brushed lightly against my shoulder.
I’d first gotten to know Scott when I started dating Devon; they hung out together a lot, which is how I’d met Scott in the first place. I’d been instantly attracted to him but he was normally so shy and reserved I’d never tried to do anything about the attraction. Over the year that Devon and I had been dating, Scott and I had become good friends, even spending time together apart from Devon. During that time it had occurred to me that Scott was attracted to me, as well. There was nothing major that gave it away, just little things, small clues that I’d been picking up on: The way he would gaze at me when he thought I wasn’t looking; the frequent, softly-spoken comments about my appearance, or what I was wearing, about how good I looked; how he was never too busy to help me out whenever I needed anything, or how he would have a tendency to drop all his other plans if I wanted to spend time with him; and most especially the way he would blush and look away from me any time I touched him. Yes, he was definitely into me. Nothing had ever happened between us though, in part because of Devon but also, and perhaps more importantly, because we were both too shy to make the first move. Something seemed different tonight, though. Ever since we’d met up with him tonight, Scott had been particularly attentive to me, buying me drinks (Whiskey cokes at first, then Colorado Bulldogs as the night progressed), sitting close to me, joking, flirting, touching me often; I enjoyed the attention a lot, and, as the alcohol took effect, I had been flirting back, in a quite obvious way. Devon had been with us the whole time and surely must have noticed it; if it bothered him, though, he gave no indication of it, acting as if nothing were happening.
Suddenly Scott’s fingers, that had been merely brushing against my shoulder, tightened around me as he drew my body gently against his; at the same time I felt him lean in until his mouth was close to my ear and whisper, “God, Catherine, I want you so badly right now.” As he said this, I felt the tip of his tongue, hot and wet, flick across my earlobe and trace a line of warmth down my neck. My whole body tingled at his touch and I couldn’t suppress a low moan. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Devon was seated on the arm of the couch beside me, watching intently, and with evident interest. I saw Scott glance at him questioningly. Devon gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod of his head as he took my hand and placed it in his lap. I could feel the strength of his erection against my palm, his hardness stretching the fabric of his jeans. Scott’s hands were on either side of my face as he turned me toward himself, and our eyes locked. As we gazed at one another, our lips met in a deep, open-mouthed kiss, our tongues intertwining, exploring the deepest reaches of our mouths with a fierce, greedy hunger.
My whole body was on fire, burning with desire; my breath caught in my throat, my heart hammered wildly against my chest, and my nipples had hardened to two throbbing peaks, aching to be touched. As Scott and I kissed, I felt Devon shift closer to me, then his hands were tugging my top up over my head and away, all in one swift motion. I turned to Devon then, managing to whisper, “Is this…I mean, are…ok?” His only response was a low, animal growl as he leaned in and kissed me fiercely.
Scott’s hands were on my stomach, then my breasts, fingertips brushing over my skin so lightly; I felt my bra being unsnapped to fall away, and my breasts felt the welcome touch of the open air. “So beautiful, so perfect,” he murmured, and then I felt his tongue tracing its way around my nipples, first one, then the other, sucking each into his mouth gently. The sensation was exquisite, overwhelming, and I groaned my pleasure into Devon’s mouth, our lips still locked in a kiss.
I pulled back from Devon for a moment and stood up, panting. “You, and you,” I said, pointing to Devon and Scott in turn, “clothes off, now.” Articles of clothing flew through the air to land in random scattered heaps around the room. Naked, they both stood before me for a moment, hard and throbbing with desire. Then Scott knelt to unsnap my jeans and pull them off, while Devon’s hot mouth and eager tongue caressed my breasts, suckling them greedily. When we were all naked, I asked them to stand up and I knelt between them, taking their cocks, one in each hand, and slowly, teasingly, stroked them, loving the feel of their hardness in my hands. “Do you like that, boys? Does it feel good?” I purred seductively. As I knelt between them, still stroking Scott slowly, I took Devon’s hard manhood in my mouth, running my tongue over the head, then down and up the shaft before engulfing him entirely with my mouth in one gulp, forcing the wet heat of my mouth down over his cock until I felt the head of his cock lodged deep in my throat and my lips were pressed against the slight scruff of his trimmed pubes. He groaned with the sensation, and I felt his body tremble as I deep throated him again and again. I turned my attention to Scott and took him in my mouth and down my throat as well, loving the feeling of his hard, hot cock thrusting into my mouth and down my throat, my tongue massaging every inch of his erection. I alternated between the two luscious dicks, going back and forth, sucking Scott, then Devon; glancing up, I watched in fascination as the two of them leaned in to kiss one another, their lips meeting tentatively, shyly, at first, and them more aggressively opening their mouths to let their tongues intertwine.
I had been wet before, but the amazingly erotic sight of the two of them kissing almost sent me over the edge; I continued to suck them off as I fingered my now gushing pussy. Breaking off their kiss. Scott and Devon briefly ran their hands over each others’ smooth chest, fingers exploring, caressing, pausing to massage and lightly pinch the nipples. Kneeling, Scott pushed me gently onto my back and knelt between my open legs while Devon positioned himself at my head and slowly slid his cock between my willing lips and deep into my mouth. Almost in the same instant I felt Scott’s tongue lapping eagerly against my hard clit while his two fingers slid inside the hot wetness of my pussy. “You’re so wet, Catherine; you taste so good,” I felt more than heard him whisper, his breath against my womanhood making me squirm. The exquisite sensation of the dual penetration had my whole body tingling; Devon’s cock throbbed in my mouth and I could taste the slightly salty sweetness of pre-cum on my tongue as I took him all the way into my mouth. Scott’s fingers began thrusting harder and harder inside me, matching the lapping of his tongue. I felt my whole body clench as my climax neared
I drew away from Devon’s cock to gasp, “God, yes, right there! Don’t stop, please don’t stop! I’m so close!” Scott’s fingers thrust inside me harder and faster, almost roughly, angling up inside. When he drew my clit into his mouth, sucking hard, my orgasm exploded inside me, and I screamed as my entire body spasmed in a mind-numbing burst of pleasure. I lay there for a moment, panting in the languorous afterglow of my climax. When I opened my eyes I growled, “Somebody fuck me, now!”
Devon’s eyes widened a bit in surprise as a a broad grin spread across his face. “Scott, you go first, I want to watch you fuck her,” Devon said, stroking his already rock-hard cock in anticipation. Needing no further urging, Scott positioned himself at my sopping wet entrance. I gasped as I felt the head of his cock slide up and down my pussy lips, teasingly, rubbing himself against me without actually entering me. Lowering his body against mine, Scott kissed me deeply, hungrily, our mouths pressed together for what seemed an infinity of bliss.
Pulling back slightly, Scott’s eyes gazed into mine as he whispered, “Catherine, are you sure this is what you want?”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist, thrusting upward against his cock with a wordless, frantic hunger. “Oh God, yes! Fuck me, Scott. Please just fuck me, ” I groaned, biting my lower lip gently between my teeth. Without another word Scott slid himself inside me in one swift motion until he was buried fully inside my cunt.
We both groaned aloud at the sensation. “Catherine..you’re so wet, so hot and tight . . .God!” Scott whimpered between clenched teeth.
I could only shudder and gasp, “Yes, it feels so good, just fuck me!” His thrusts increased in speed and intensity until he was burying himself inside me with each rapid thrust, his balls slapping against my skin with each movement. I sucked Devon’s cock hungrily for a moment and then he moved down my body, teasing my breasts and rock-hard nipples with his tongue, swirling his tongue tip around each nipple, then sucking it into his mouth and biting lightly at it, making my gasp with pleasure at the sensation. Devon moved down my body, leaving a trail of light kisses over my stomach as Scott continued to fuck me harder and harder, pounding into me, then drawing himself out slowly until only his cockhead was inside me, lingering there a moment, perfectly still, then thrusting inside hard and deep….I felt my climax building again with every delicious thrust of his cock, my pussy flexing and spasming around his rod. Looking up, I saw Devon grab the back of Scott’s head and pull him forward into a wet, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Devon then moved down Scott’s body, kissing lightly, until he reached his nipples. Devon’s tongue encircled one, sucking hard, while simultaneously pinching the other one.
At this, Scott let out a low, shuddering moan and stopped moving inside me. “If you do that, I’m gonna blow, man,” He panted. “The two sensations together are too intense. Let’s switch. Your turn.” I moaned with disappointment as I felt Scott pull himself out of me. I’d been so close and the need to cum again was desperate at this point.
Devon took Scott’s place between my legs and plunged inside of me in a single motion, causing me to arch my back and dig my nails slightly into his back gasping, “Yes, God yes!” After a few slow, deep strokes he pulled out completely. I began to whimper with frustration, until I looked down and saw Scott slowly taking Devon’s cock into his mouth, his tongue lapping eagerly at the head, down the shaft, licking up every bit of my juices.
Scott’s eyes stared into mine as he said, “Catherine, you taste delicious” and then sucked Devon’s cock deep into his mouth, gagging slightly, but managing to take almost the entire length. This sight made me so very, very hot that I began rubbing my clit hard. Devon slowly withdrew from Scott’s mouth and plunged himself inside me again, now thrusting as hard and deep as he could. Scott knelt by my head and I devoured his cock, deep-throating him over and over, my moans vibrating against his cock as I felt my second orgasm wash over me . . .. Even as I came, I felt Devon’s whole body go rigid and his breath escape his mouth in a low, mewling moan as his dick twitched and throbbed inside me, unleashing a torrent of hot cum into my womb. Almost at the same time Scott grasped the back of my head lightly and, with one more thrust, shot spurt after spurt of semen onto my tongue and down my throat. His moan of delight was almost a scream, and I felt his entire body shuddering as he emptied himself inside my mouth. Sweaty and panting, we collapsed on top of one another, trembling from our mutual pleasure.

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Fiction

Family Circus – Ch. 3

We drove immediately over to the seamstress where Mom said, “I’ll just wait here in the car. You go on in.” I went into the shop, finding that it was owned by Koreans. There three women working at sewing machines; they looked like they may be grandmother, mother, and daughter based on their ages. The middle aged one greeted me as I handed her the paper from Dr. Vernon.
I told her, “Dr. Vernon sent me for a custom fitted supporter,” as she was reading the paper.
Looking at me she said, “One minute, please,” then turned toward the other two women telling them something in Korean. They both giggled as grandmother nodded and got up from her sewing machine.
Grandmother motioned to me to follow her saying, “You come this way. I fit you.” In the back she motioned me to a little platform with a three-way mirror behind it. “You take of pant, I get pattern cloth,” she said as she turned to a table and pawed through several piles of cloth. I removed my cargo pants and stood there waiting. She turned toward me with a piece of cloth in her hand and when she looked at me, I saw her eyes fix momentarily on my penis and testicles at the hem of my boxers before looking me in the eyes and saying, “No, no, you need shorts off, too.”
I just mumbled, “Oh, okay,” as I bent over and took off my shorts.
As I stood back up, grandmother eyeballed my penis and testicles saying, “Ahh, you big. We fix right up.” She rolled a stool over on the floor to the edge of the platform and motioned me toward her. “I use this to make pattern. We make supporter from soft cloth.” She held the cloth up to my groin area, pressing it in on either side of my hanging equipment and pressing up from below my legs then began to make some chalk marks on the pattern cloth. Her touch made me begin to engorge again and almost immediately, my penis was arching, still hanging down but out in front of my thighs. As my penis pushed her pattern cloth away from me, grandmother giggled and said, “Can’t fit you with that. You go in bathroom and take care of it.” She motioned toward a door on the other wall.
“Right now?” I asked.
“Yes, yes, you want supporter today, right?” she prodded. I stepped off the platform and headed toward the door to the bathroom. It was small but clean and I shut the door behind me as I looked around. No lock on the door. Oh well, she knows I’m in here.
Standing in front of the toilet, I began to stroke my hardening penis until it was about fully erect, standing a little higher than straight out horizontally from my abdomen. It felt like it may take me a few minutes to make it happen having just cum about a half hour ago. I tried to picture something in my mind to help me along and ended up fixed on the hand job that Dr. Vernon had given me in the name of medical science. That seemed to be helping when I heard the bathroom door open to my left. I looked over and grandmother poked her head in asking, “How you doing?”
“Okay, I guess,” I replied. Her head disappeared but the door remained open partway.
In a moment, the door opened further, grandmother and mother were standing there. Grandmother said, “We watch, okay?” as mother nodded her head.
All I could do was nod my head as the extra attention was pushing me quickly toward an orgasm. “Oh shit, here it comes,” I thought as I continued to stroke while aiming toward the bowl as best as I could. Four large ropes of semen shot from my penis in rapid succession followed by two smaller ones, and then a few dribbles. I continued to stroke slowly as the orgasm faded.
“Ahh, good,” I heard from the doorway. When I turned to look, all three of them were standing there, grandmother, mother, and daughter, nodding their heads in approval. Mother and daughter turned and walked away as grandmother stood there watching me milk the last few drops from my penis. It was completely flaccid now after its endeavors as I turned toward the door and grandmother.
“Okay?” I asked.
“Yes, better,” she replied. I followed her back to the platform where she made some more marks on the pattern cloth, measured my waist, and the distance from ly waist in front on my abdomen to my waist in back above my butt, the tape carefully placed to the right side of my penis and testicles. “You wait here. Put on pants if you want, while I make supporter.” I figured, “What the hell. It’s not like they haven’t seen me,” so I just sat down in an old wooden swivel desk chair in just my T-shirt and socks, testicles laying on the cool wood of the chair seat, penis hanging slightly off the front of the seat.
Passing the time looking around the room, I heard someone in front saying, “Come back here, we fit you Mrs. Borman.” Before I could cover up, mother and an older woman, probably in her late sixties rounded the corner. The older woman, tall and overweight stopped short when she saw me sitting there.
She stared at my penis hanging off the front of the chair seat for a moment then regained her composure. “Oh my. Are you here to get the hem taken up in that thing, young man?” she asked with a smile.
“Custom fitted supporter, ma’am,” I told her. “I can go out front and wait if you’d like.”
She seemed to consider that idea for a moment then said, “You can’t go out front like that. Besides, I kind of like the scenery and at my age I have no modesty left,” as she stepped up on the platform and pulled her top off over her head. Her bra was huge, the back about four inches wide at the clasps. Reaching around behind her, she undid the multitude of clasps letting the bra fall off her shoulders. Huge tits tumbled out. They were massive, hanging down below her waist. “And you think you’ve got problems, young man,” she glanced my way. “Nothing to match a fat old lady like me.”
Mother was working on her with her measuring tape, measuring every which way and writing in a small notebook before having her lean over at the waist. Those huge udders hung down, way away from her body and the lady helped mother keep the tape measure in place to measure her overall size around her upper torso including the long trip toward the floor and back to travel down and back around those hanging fun bags. Straightening back up, she looked toward me and saw that I had a partial erection. Instead of laying on and over the edge of the chair seat, my penis was sticking almost straight out, lying on the edge of the seat and poking out beyond like the end of a teeter-totter. “I’ll take that as a compliment, young man,” she said as she leaned over to collect those tits into the cups of her bra before straightening back up to fasten all the clasps in back. After pulling her top on over her head, she stepped down off the platform and came over next to me. Patting me on the shoulder she said, “Good luck with that supporter, young man. They do very good work here.” Then she turned and headed out toward the front of the store.
Sitting there alone again, I was soon bored and my erection faded as the end of my penis hung down off the edge of the seat. After a while, grandmother returned with a supporter in her hand. How the hell someone can whip up something like that so fast I have no idea. She handed it to me and said, “You try on.” I stood up, penis and testicles swaying between my legs as I stepped into the support one foot at a time. The sack part of the supporter looked rather large, but my equipment filled it up. As I was trying to figure out how to pack my penis into the sack, which way was most comfortable, grandmother was helping me, pulling gently on the sides of the soft material and actually moving my testicles around a bit. All packed in I straightened up and found that it was actually pretty comfortable. It felt odd to not have the weight of my penis and testicles tugging at me. Grandmother asked, “Fit good. You like?”
“Yes, it’s very comfortable. Thank you,” I told her.
“I give you bill up front. You mail check,” she told me as she walked toward the front of the store.
I pulled off the new supporter, penis and testicles swinging free and was just picking up my boxers when daughter appeared around the corner. With very little Asian accent she asked, “Does the supporter fit well?”
“Yes, it does. It’s very nice. Do you want to see?” I asked.
“No, that’s okay. My grandmother does very good work. She can almost just look at a woman and make a bra that fits perfectly,” she told me. “Both my mother and grandmother are very impressed by your size. Actually, I am, too. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Yeah, I guess I’m a bit of a freak show,” I told her as I pulled on my boxers and arranged myself in them.
“No, not a freak, just very big,” she told me as I fastened the waist of my cargo pants and buckled my belt. “You have a nice day,” she finished before going into the bathroom and closing the door.
I walked up front where grandmother handed me a bill and said, “Come back, three weeks, we check supporter.”
“Okay, thanks,” I told her as headed out of the shop to the car.
“When do you get your supporter?” Mom asked as I got in the car.
Raising the little bag in my hand I replied, “Got it already. They’re fast. Here’s the bill,” handing her the bill from grandmother.
Back home, Mom reminded me as we walked into the kitchen, “Don’t forget doctor’s orders, Bobby. Here,” as she handed me the specimen cup.
As I was leaving the kitchen, Vickie came in the other door asking, “What did the doctor say?” I motioned toward Mom as I left and headed to my room to flop on my bed.
Later that evening after dinner, I was lying on my bed listening to the radio when Mom came in. “Did you follow Doctor’s orders? Here’s a piece of paper we can record your output on,” she said as she handed me a piece of paper.
“We?” I asked.
“Well, I want to make sure you measure and record it accurately,” she replied.
“I’m not an idiot, Mom,” I told her somewhat crossly.
“Bobby, I’m your mother. Mothers have certain prerogatives,” she told me. “I want it done right for the doctor. Have you collected any output that we need to record since we got home?”
“No, Mom, I haven’t,” I replied.
“Well then we probably should,” she replied.
“They already collected a sample from me this morning at the doctor’s office, Mom,” I told her, conveniently omitting information about the load I deposited in the toilet at the seamstress.
“The doctor ordered ‘at least daily’ meaning one or more times, and she told me more than once would be better.”
“I didn’t hear anyone say that,” I said.
“Dr. Vernon told me in the hallway, before the nurse and I came back into the room,” Mom replied.
“She did?”
“Yes, she did. So now might be a good time,” Mom said, more like an order than a request.
“Right now? Right here?” I asked.
“You can’t do it in the shower like you usually do, it would be hard to use the specimen cup in there and get an accurate reading,” she said. “So right here seems like a good, controlled place to do it.” When she saw the look on my face she added, “What? You don’t think I know what you do in those long showers?”
“Whatever,” I said as I laid there.
She walked over and shut my door before returning to my bedside saying, “Okay buster, right now. Pants off.”
“Mom,” I pleaded.
“Now, Bobby. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked plenty of times,” she told me.
“But not jacking off,” I replied as I pulled my pants and boxers down and off my feet, tossing them on the foot of the bed. Then for good measure I pulled my T-shirt off over my head and tossed it on my pants and boxers.
“Oh, wait a minute,” she told me as she turned and went out in the hall, leaving my door open. While she was gone I saw Vickie walk by my door and glance in at me, lying there naked on my bed. When Mom returned she had a box of tissues in her hand as she closed the door behinds her.
“You left the door open and Vickie walked by and saw me,” I told her.
“Oh, sorry. It doesn’t really matter. She knows what’s going on,” Mom replied matter of factly. She produced a tube of K-Y Jelly from the pocket of her robe and handed it to me. “Do you want this?”
“I guess so,” I replied.
I squirted a good amount of the K-Y into my palm then lifted my penis from lying between my legs onto my abdomen trying to stroke it at the same time. With its length and as flaccid as it was, when I tried to stroke it it just bent on itself instead of sliding through my hand. Mom said, “Oh here,” as she grasped the base part of my shaft in her right hand. “Is that better? It won’t move around on you now.” A more successful stroke on my part was her answer and I began to stroke in earnest now as my penis gained in stiffness. As I continued to stroke, I realized that Mom was gently stroking the base of my penis with her right hand before switching to her left. I felt her light touch on my testicles, lifting them, letting them roll around on her right palm and fingertips as she began to slowly stroked with her left.
That was really turning me on. My own mother handling my testicles and penis like that and I felt myself rising toward an orgasm. As my hips began to rock Mom stopped stroking with her left hand and picked up the specimen cup as she continued to fondle my testicles with her right hand. “Almost there, baby? It’s okay, you just go for it,” she said softly. As I was just about to cum, she moved quickly, her right hand pushing my hand out of the way to grasp my penis and continue stroking it as she positioned the cup to catch my semen. Aiming my penis into the specimen cup she continued to stroke as it began pulsing, ejecting several good sized ropes of semen into the cup followed by some smaller spurts and then a few drips. Slowing her hand to a stop, she held my penis for a few moments before laying it down on my abdomen. Raising the cup in her hand to the bedside table lamp, she squinted through the translucent plastic at the numbers before mumbling to herself and writing the date, time, and quantity on the piece of paper she’d brought in the room.
“Okay, now that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” she asked. “I need to get to bed after I rinse this out.” Leaving the room she said “Good night,” as she closed the door behind her. I laid there on the bed, semen oozing from my now softening penis lying there on my abdomen.

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Fiction

Charity Starts At Home: Chapter 1 : Mother-Daughter Reunion

Charity Starts At Home : Part 1 : Mother-Daughter Reunion
Despite what the world might have you believe, no one starts out as a slut. That being said, no one intends to become a slut either even when they are enroute to becoming one. Arriving at “slutdom” is shocking and appalling to some, who then run fleeing ashamed at the woman they’ve become. Others embrace this newfound sexual liberty and explore it for everything that it is worth.
My name is Charity Jones. I am a fulfilled slut. This is my story.
As I mentioned before, no one starts out as a slut and I am no exception. I was never abused, never had a drug addiction, no criminal record and my parents loved me very much. I was a straight A honour-roll student, and went to church every Sunday. I intended to save myself for marriage and settle down with 2.5 kids and live happily ever after in the suburbs.
For all intents and purposes that’s exactly how I appear to be. I’m happily married to a wonderful for nearly 20 years now. We have two lovely girls who are about to embark onto college themselves. I still go to church every Sunday and was a part of the PTA. How ever, I’m also a swinger and run my personal pornographic website.
That is getting far ahead of myself though . As I approach my 40th birthday in a few months , I have decided to look back and see where it all started. You must forgive me as it starts out very slowly, but every good story has its own history; and mine is one heck of a back-story.
My parents hated each other and they divorced when I was only six. How they managed to stay together even that long was a complete mystery. My father gained complete custody and forbade my mother from seeing me. He raised me to hate my mother, mincing no words calling her a “slut” and a “whore” when we were not in mixed company With having no access to her, I naturally believed my father implicitly and grew to hate my mother as well.
Father doted on me in a material yet distant and aloof way. Business and money was his first mistress. He had hinted at growing up poor and never wanted that for his only child. Thusly I grew up a little isolated and to be completely honest; a little spoiled.
But all of that came to a crashing halt when my father went to jail. It turned out most of his business dealings had been built on fraud and on money that didn’t exist. In the space of a few months I had gone from rich Daddy’s girl to pauper. And then the worst came to light.
I would have to move in with my mother.
I hardly could move out on my own, I had just turned 16 and being a teenage high school drop out didn’t leave me much choices.
I was going from a sprawling house in an upper class suburb and private school to god knows what in a small town. Adding insult to injury, I had to take a bus halfway across the country to do so. I arrived in this south-western town with nothing but two suitcases to show for any of my previous life.
When my mother pulled up to the bus depot she was hard not to pick out. I had received letters from my father’s lawyer telling me she was flamboyant but this really took me by storm. I couldn’t figure out if it was her hair, her clothes or her car that made my eyes burst of my skull.
Mother had pulled up to the bus-depot in a hot pink cadilac convertible with the top down. The interior was a faux-fur zebra lining. Fuzzy dice and the Playboy bunny dangled from the rear-view mirror. Van-Halen thundered out of the speakers.
Mother got out of the caddy and I got my first real look at her. She was quite tall, possibly 5’ 10” or so, and it didn’t help that she was wearing white leather cowboy boots which added another couple of inches. She wore Daisy-Duke denim shorts as well. Adding to this was a white tube top which could barely contain her very ample bust. To top this all off was a white cowboy hat.
I am a study in contrasts and similarities to my mother. Whilst I inherited my father’s petite stature coming in at barely 5’ 3”; I also inherited my mother’s physique: the corn stalk blonde hair, blue sparkling eyes and the same shapely hourglass figure topped with an equally generous bustline. While my breasts were always an embarrassment to me, mother seemed to flaunt hers.
Mother all but burst out from the pink convertible and rushed toward me, her cowboy heels clopping and her tits bouncing as she darted to me. I was so mortified that my face must have burst red as I tried putting up a brave diplomatic smile. She quickly wrapped her arms around me in a very forward hug and since I only came eye to eye with her cleavage, I found my face buried between them.
“ Oooh-wee, my dahlin baby girl has bin returned to me!” , Mother twanged out in an unmistakably deep-southern drawl.
I managed to extricate myself from the mammory mauling and extended my hand cordially. This was the tramp that had abandoned me and my father. The last thing I was going to do was pretend that this was a happy family reunion.
“ Charity Jones, a pleasure to meet you Mother.”, I said using my best boarding school voice with the right tinge of bitch to get my point across.
Looking at her I instantly regretted what I had just said. The look of deep rooted pain that flashed in her eyes was almost too much to bear. I don’t know what she was expecting from me after twelve years of abandonment , but it was clear even to me that I was a bit out of line as well.
We both stood there uncertain as to what to do or say , and I noticed we both turned red in our upper cheeks when we were upset. I was about to apologize when she took my hand.
With a brave smile and a deep breath Mother said , “ The pleasure is all mine Charity.”
We unclasped hands and stood staring at each other for a few moments. It was clear neither of us knew what to say or do next, nor what was expected of us. We were separated by 10 years of time and by light years of understanding.
Mother broke the silence , “ I’d prefer if ya called me Momma or Mom, but if ya can’t call me that… I reckon I’ll settle for Dianne, or just Dee.”
“ Alright Moth-”, I stumbled on the word again, “ Momm–”
“Dee” , she smiled at me
“ Dee”, I breathed out relieved, “ alright, Dee.”
With the initial awkwardness out of the way, Dee and I got into the car. It felt strange calling her Dee, but I just could not get myself to call her Mother or Mom, let alone Momma. We drove away and into town
Dee went on and on in her southern drawl pointing out the landmarks in town as I broiled in the next seat. I barely noticed her as my internal monolgue had me griping about the backwoods town I had been dropped into. There couldn’t have been more then 10 thousand people living here. It was a distant satellite town, not too far away from the city to be rural and not too small enough to be quaint. And I hated it from look one.
We eventually came to a rail crossing and my heart sunk as I could almost predict where we were going next. To none of my surprise we eventually pulled into a trailer park ironically named ‘Millionaire Acres’. It was official; my mother was trailer park trash . Thusly I was also to be trailer park trash.
It was a motley assortment of RV’s, mobile homes and doublewide trailer home units. Ranging from well kept homes of retirees to ramshackle domiciles of what were clearly the dregs of this town. If there was a wrong side of the tracks to this town, we had literally crossed it. It was laid out in a circular design surrounding a Laundromat attached to a corner store, which in turn was attached to a bar.
My new home was one of the larger units, but it still could all fit into half of the main floor of my old home. It was on the outer with a view of the local brewery around back.. A small deck skirted the front. It was a two bedroom place with the master bedroom at the back end and the secondary bedroom flanking it. On the other side of the small hall was the bathroom . The front of the trailer was a living room with a kitchenette /dining room that all but looked into the living room.
It was kitschy, it was camp. Thick shag rug carpeted the living room. There was a velvet Elvis behind the TV. Lots of little crystal figurines. The zebra motif continued from the car as the couch and love seat were in the same pattern. A brief peek in the kitchen showed what Mothe…, what Dee had for breakfast; a six pack of beer.
I was in hell. But at least hell had air conditioning.
“ Welcome to your new home Charity” , Dee said giving a twirl as if showing off the grandeur of the environs.
Dee continued, “ Your bedroom is just down the hall, you just settle yourself in and we can catch up on all we missed.”
I turned and looked down the hall to the bedrooms. And that’s when I had enough.
On what was clearly the door to my bedroom was a cardboard pink teddy bear with the words ‘ Charity’s Room’ in bold happy letters outlined in sparkles. Enough was enough.
“ Listen Dee,” I said to her coldly , “ I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but I am not twelve nore is this some sort of happy reunion.”
The smile drained from Dee’s face completely and once again I saw the hurt. It was better I say this all now then let it fester over time. Hurt a little now avoid homicide later I considered.
I continued, “ I am here because I do not want to be homeless drifter. You abandoned us and I think it’s only fitting you actually be willing to give a damn about me for a couple years”
Now there was some anger in Dee’s eyes but coupled with that hurt she began to interject, “ Is that what you really think…”
I interrupted with a wave of my hand and continued, “ I do not really care about the excuse and lies you have for ignoring me. Maybe we can be friends in the future but for now I just want to go hide until I graduate and can get out of this shithole.”
I abruptly turned my back on her proud of my defiant stand. Someone had to put that bitch in her place and remind her of the lives she had ruined. I dragged my suitcases into my bedroom and was about to throw them on the bed. That’s when I saw it, and that’s when it stopped me cold.
The room was a shrine. A shrine to me. There were picture of me everywhere. Me as a little girl on a pony. Me at my first day of ballet. Me in my cheerleader uniform. Me winning first prize at the school science fair. Mountains of teddy bears surrounded the bed. The bed itself was the centre point; it was covered in letters. At a glance I could see they were all addressed to me.
I dropped the suitcases and staggered to the bed and sat down. I felt light headed. People say that before they die they see their life flash before their eyes. It was the same thing for me as I sat on the bed and picked up one of the letters.
On the letter, beneath my old scratched out home address were three words written in the unmistakable handwriting of my father
*** Return to Sender***
I covered a mouth that wanted to scream with my freehand, but I couldn’t scream. I could barely breath. My heart had crammed itself into my throat and wanted to burst in a thousand bleeding pieces as I realized the immensity of what this was.
From the doorway Dee softly spoke as I choked back sobs.
“ Every birthday. Every Christmas. Every time you began a school year and every time it ended..”
The tears began to burn down my cheeks as I rummaged through the enormity of my father’s betrayal in the form of never opened mail. There were dozens upon dozens. And as I wept, Dee continued.
“ Every Halloween and every Valentine’s Day. Every time you got an A on your report card..”
I looked up as she softly crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside me. She understood what I meant to ask, what I needed to know, needed to hear ..all of that in a single glance.
“ Oh yes, your father kept me up to date on your life, but…”, she trailed away for a moment and came back, “ but it came at such a heavy price.”
She took my hand in hers and for the first time in my life I could actually feel love pour into me. Unconditional. Forgiving . Love.
“ The price was “, Dee continued, “ was that I could never see you. If I ever came to see you or try to speak to you…”
Dee herself now choked up and I squeezed her hand right back. In all the years I had lived with my father had I ever had a moment so personal and honest. I wanted to project that forgiveness right back to her , but I knew she wasn’t finished.
The tears welled up in her eyes too, but she finally managed to finish, “ …if I ever tried, he would take you away where I would never find you again, and I just couldn’t bear to give up what little I had left of you.”
The wallks broke down and we were bare before each other, victims of treachery, victims of love.
“ Ohhhh Momma…”, I began t cry
She held me close to her and rocked me gently like a child until the tears began to end. She stroked my hair and reminded me over and over again how sorry she was. How much she loved me.
“ I’ll never leave you Momma, “ I cried into her shoulder, “ I swear.”
And I never did.
————————————————————————————————————–
The next few days Momma and I were inseperable.
I couldn’t call her Dee anymore, it was a stunning transformation. In just a handful of days this woman had gone from hated stranger into what was quickly becoming the center of my universe. It was like I was trying to squeeze in all my lost childhood with her into those early days.
Momma and I also had a lot of serious moments too though, learning the truth about the divorce was a lot to handle but I had to hear it all. Even after discovering that my father had forbidden Momma to contact me I was still shocked and disgusted to hear some of the other things he had gotten up to.
Momma explained to me that they had gotten married simply because she was pretty and he had gotten her pregnant with me. She was a teen mother and that he came from money. She was young and pretty and made a good trophy wife and it seems that’s where the love had ended.
Father cheated on her all the time, there were always women in his life he never made any secret of it. Momma’s role it seemed was to raise me and stay pretty at parties. But over time, father grew tired of the southern blonde he had married who embarrassed him her twang and graces in social circles, she was a viewed as a bumpkin, so he decided to get rid of her.
Father bribed Momma’s personal trainer to seduce her, and even then it took months to do so. Momma was still determined to be a faithful wife but the trainer and finally succeeded. Father made sure there were photo’s to prove my mother’s infidelity . The divorce was an open and closed case, she couldn’t prove his infidelity and he had photographic evidence of hers.
With no job skills, no work history and no means of support, there was no chance of gaining custody of Charity. So Momma headed back home and made do any way she could. She always sent me money though when she could, I discovered this when we opened the letters. A twenty here, a fifty there; it all added up over twelve long years and realized there was quite a nice lump of money there.
We went shopping for new clothes for me, my upstate northern clothes were not exactly going to help me in the south western heat. Momma tried getting me the same style of skimpy clothes she wore, extolling me to show off the goods Mother Nature had given me, but I insisted on keeping to a more conservative style of dress. Even so, I found a number of skimpy tops and tight jeans in my new wardrobe when we got home.
I even managed to update my room to that of a teen girl’s and still spoil myself a bit. A ghetto blaster, walkman, some make up, some posters and a bunch of music tapes ( this was the 80’s after all). I even bought some exercises for Momma and me. I still had a few hundred dollars left afterwards.
We both loved musicals and ABBA, we had the same sense of humour too. Momma was quite intelligent despite not having finished high school herself and she was a voracious reader. Most of what she read were trashy novels, but she quickly took to my classics. In turn I grew to be as equally hooked on her soap operas.
Momma worked nights at a bar called the Zebra Club on the outskirts of town and I was an early riser. So when she got up in the morning, I’d have breakfast waiting and then we’d work out in front of the TV and hang out the rest of the day. All in all it was a great first week for what I thought was going to be a great summer before school started.
———————————————
Things took a very interesting change came the first Friday night though and it would be the thing that sent me on the path to being the slut I am today.
Momma and I were having breakfast when she matter of factly told me that she sometimes had gentleman callers ( her words, not mine) spend the night over. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, she was single and very attractive after all. I had to remember she had been single for 12 years and that I wasn’t going to be the only person in her life. I assured Momma that I had no problems with it and the subject was quickly forgotten.
Momma went to work that night and I settled into the couch for a night reading one of Momma’s trashy novels and some bad TV. Eleven o’clock hit and I was officially tired out and went to bed.
I don’t know how long the noises had gone on by the time they had woken me up. I was still new to the house and sometimes strange new noises woke me up, but this was definitely something I had never heard before. It was a rhythmic banging sound accompanied with gurgling and sloshing , not to mention the groaning and moaning. And it was coming from Momma’s room.
Momma’s room was off limits, she had made that clear from day one.It was her personal space and the place she escaped the world. To elaborate the point it was the only door in the trailer that had its own lock. And it was always locked.
As I woke , I could clearly tell the groans were Momma’s. They were accompanied by occasional grunts from her as well. And the banging and the gurgling and the sloshing continued. This was beyond bizarre for me and I had to investigate it.
I was a bit sheltered but I should have realized what the groaning was all about, I wasn’t completely that ignorant after all. But the other sounds were a complete mystery and for all I knew she was actually in trouble and I would never forgive myself if I had let something happen to her just to avoid embarrassing myself.
I softly got out of bed in my nightee and creeped out my door. Merely stepping out into the hall a soft glow suffused me down the short hallway in the distinctive hue of a television glow, and it emanated from Momma’s bedroom. The groans, gurgling, banging and sloshing were louder and were clearly from the open door to her room.
Clothing was strewn across the hall leading into Momma’s bedroom and I took a couple of quiet steps and looked through the door which was open a couple feet. I gasped at the sight I beheld.
There was my Momma as naked as the Lord made her on her knees with her face down on the bed. Behind her a large BLACK man was clearly fucking her hard.
It took me a couple seconds to take it all in and register what was happening. The sex and everything in the room took my breath away.
The sloshing, the gurgling and the banging were coming from the bed itself. It was a waterbed ( it was the 1980’s) and the water cushion was clearly getting a workout. The bed spread and quilt were in Momma’s favourite style; zebra. The banging itself was from the headboard itself banging against the wall every time the BLACK man thrusted into her. How the bed didn’t break escaped me.
The TV glow showed itself to be a pornographic movie playing some big breasted blonde bimbo sucking the engorged penis of yet another BLACK man.
If you’re wondering why I’m putting such emphasis on the word BLACK you have to understand I have never met an actual black person in my life. I had lived in an upper-class white neighbourhood all my life. The closest I had ever come to seeing a real black person was on TV. I had been taught nothing but the upper class racism and bigotry of my father. In his eyes , black people were athletes, entertainers or rapists, criminals and thieves.
But seeing this in the flesh had me very……aroused?
I couldn’t take my eyes off of the spectacle. Here was my Momma in all her glory having this large black man have his way with her! From the angle they were facing she had her face turned away and the black man was clearly enjoying himself too much to glance at an open door. I could clearly see all the action though from my place just outside the door. It was fantastic!! Every time he pulled away from her I could see his large dark penis out from Momma.
I had never seen an actual penis before outside of National Geographic magazines , and never anything like this! He was thick and long, that much I could tell and every time he pushed back into her I felt a tingling a pulse between my thighs. He had a firm athletic body and it showed when ever he planted himself deep inside my Momma.
I could feel my nipples stiffen against the sheer fabric of my nightee and heat burst across my body. It was wrong of me to be aroused by watching my parent in her most intimate moment, but the hot beauty of dark skin on creamy whiteness was too hard to resist. I was transfixed.
Suddenly the large black man rolled onto his back and pulled Momma over with him, she turned and straddled his athletic body. Momma was facing me now but I still could not turn away. I took a half step back to get a bit out of the light from the TV, but I still had a clear view of all the action.
“ oh Marcus, I love your big black cock”, Momma groaned out loud.
I covered my mouth to stifle a gasp at what Momma had just said. It was so crass and rude. But it was so right. So very , very right. My body knew that right away even if it was Momma’s body that was having the experience.
“ Then you better get on that dick”, the man named Marcus clearly instructed.
The casual confidence in his voice turned me on I must admit. As his hands wandered to her hips my hands wandered to my own , imagining his dark skin on my own light flesh. Watching his hands grip her waist and pull her down to his crotch was masterful.
Momma herself was a glorious image, in the soft light she looked like a goddess. The narrow waist, the flat stomach, the full hips and the lush fullness of her breasts. Her golden curls framed her like a halo as they cascaded over her shoulders. Her breasts were large and heavy with nipples the size of silver dollars which were hard and as erect as my own. Her nudity should have been shameful to me , but instead I was breath -taken and envious of the sheer sensuality she oozed.
She reached between her thighs and grasped Marcus’ firm black shaft, her hand barely wrapping around it. She rose her hips just above Marcus; own and rubbed the head of his penis against the cleft between her thighs. This elicited a soft moan from both him and myself and my own hand snaked under my nightee to my overheated wetness , rubbing that magic spot imagining it was Marcus’ thickness rubbing it there.
Momma and I both groaned as she eased herself onto his cock. Inch by glorious inch Marcus disappeared into Momma. I had no idea how she could fit all of him into her. In my mind’s eye it was me slowly meeting his crotch. Momma began to slowly grind her hips into his and I ground my own hips into my fingers as I began to rub myself harder. Slowly Momma began to rise and fall on Marcus’ length. I watched with intense desire as his dark meat appeared and disappeared into Momma, his black cock becoming slick with her juices.
Momma began to ride Marcus earnestly and fervently. She would slam her hips into him filling the room with hot and wet smacking sounds. Her breasts bounced and swayed as she rode him hard. Sweat burst across my brow and my body was on fire, my fingers diddling myself hard to the x-rated action playing out before me. At this point I couldn’t tell what I wanted more; my Momma or Marcus.
In some moment of sexual serendipity both Momma and myself gripped an equivalent tit and squeezed and tweaked a hard nipple. Both of us elicited an equal gasp as we felt a tremor ripple through her bodies. It was a mini-cum and it was glorious. Momma snaked her other hand to her pounded pussy and rubbed her clit just as I was doing with myself.
“ Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck”, Momma’s breath came in short puffs.
“ God damn you have a tight white pussy Dee”, Marcus grunted.
That was enough to set us both off. Momma began to shake and tremble and she began to cum hard and she grinded herself into her black lover. I had to stagger back against the wall as waves of pleasure rolled through me as well. I was dizzy and delirious.
“ Ohhhh fuck, I’m gonna cum”, Marcus groaned rolling his head back and forth.
“ Cum in me baby, cum in me” both Momma and I said at the same time even though mine was just a whisper to myself.
Marcus’ hands came up and gripped Momma’s jugs, his dark fingers squeezing into her soft white flesh. I did the same with my own hands imagining them being cupped and caressed and mauled by those hands. By Momma’s hands too. I ground my hips against the wall as aftershocks rippled through me.
“ Ahhhhhh fuck, cumming” , Marcus arched his back and thrust one last time into Momma
As if on cue Momma went off as well, I don’t know why but it set off a tiny explosion in me too. I lived vicariously through her pleasure at pleasuring a man. I could all but feel him shooting into me. Oh god how much I wanted it! Filling me, overflowing me, satisfying me!
“ Taste yourself on my cock” , Marcus instructed in his sexy casual confidence.
With a horny smile Momma slipped off Marcus’ thick tool which plopped out of her pussy with a juicy smack. It was long and thick and gooey with their combined juices, it looked downright tasty to me, my mouth actually watered. Momma scooted down and wrapped her lips around his cockhead and then started lashing her tongue all along his turgid length. I licked my own pussy-wet fingers visualizing my digits as Marcus’ cock.
“ Tasty”, Momma said with a smile when she was done. I agreed.
“ I should probably clean up and get out before your daughter wakes up”, Marcus said as he began to shift.
This promptly snapped me out of my reverie and brought me back to the reality of where I was. Instead of being caught with my tits hanging out like this I scooted back to my room doing my best to stay quiet. I closed the door behind me and flung myself onto the bed.
I lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling still hot and feverish. Over and over I played out the events in my head. My mind was racing, my heart was beating a thousand beats per minute, The heat in my loins was threatening to set me on fire.
I tore the nightee off my body and lay naked in the bed, my nipples were like diamonds, my skin was electric. I thrust my fingers to my cleft and replayed the scene again. I was all bust gushing imagining that big cock disappearing into my momma’s pussy. Wondering what my pussy juce would taste on that big cock. That big BLACK cock. What my Momma’s pussy would taste like on that big black cock. What my Momma’s pussy would taste like.
I came thunderously at that realization . I arched my back in a noiseless scream and then covered my mouth with my pillow and let myself HOWL. It went like a lightning bolt through me. It went out through my toes, exploded my nipples and shot out like a beam of light through the top of my head. I swear I saw stars as I shot through the ceiling.
I came back to earth in a sweaty heap, finally satisfied. What I wanted was wrong. But I had to have it.
I wanted my Momma. I also wanted back cock. I wanted both.
As I drifted off to sleep all I could keep thinking like a mantra was…I want , I want , I want, I want…..
End of Part 1

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Fiction

The Kingdom ch. 01

The Kingdom Ch. 01
Prince Atheling took careful aim with his crossbow and let the bolt fly. The poor pigeon never had a chance as the bolt struck it and it tumbled out of the sky. But as it did, it fluttered down behind the grove of bushes that lined the bottom of the castle wall.
Stepping over to the bushes, he parted them with his hands and stepped inside to search for the bird. The growth was thick and he had to fight his way through the bushes as he looked for the bird. Then, moving over to castle wall where the growth wasn’t quite as thick, he stepped down the wall searching for his bird. As he moved along, he saw a loophole in the wall. Wondering what in looked in on, he stepped over and peered through it.
What he saw would haunt him to his dying day and change the whole land around him. The fiery spasm of perverse excitement that fired off in his brain made him dizzy as he gawked in the loophole in stunned silence.
It was his mother, Queen Ides. And she was naked! Naked and standing in a big, copper tub while her hand maid stood beside her running a soapy washcloth over the queen’s naked body. He knew that his mother had a beautiful face but the rest of her body had remained a mystery to him. He had heard it said that the queen was one of the most beautiful women in the land and what he now saw convinced him that the rumors had been right. She was exquisitely beautiful, he told himself as he stared on in reverent awe.
She stood with her back facing the loophole. Her breasts were so large, Atheling could see their rounded sides extending out beyond her arms. Her ebony black hair hung down in wet strands, the curled tips just brushing the rounded slope of her shoulders. Atheling let his eyes wander down the sweep of her back, down to the cheeks of her perfect ass. Letting his hungry eyes explore the unrivaled beauty of her ass, he imagined that it had to have been carved out of the purest, white alabaster by the hand of a master sculptor. And below it, her long, shapely legs swooped and curved down and down until they were hidden behind the copper tub. Atheling stared on in worshipful reverence, watching as soap bubbles slowly slithered down the sweep of her graceful back and legs. While his mother’s body partially blocked his view of the handmaid, he could see that the handmaid was running the washcloth over his mother’s big, jutting breasts.
Guiltily, he could feel his big his prick growing hard as he peeked in at his mother. But he had no control over it. His body was built to react in a certain way in the presence of such beauty, and it was performing as designed. Even if it was his mother who was generating such a depraved response.
His heart was pounding, his mouth was as dry as the Sahara, and his hands were trembling from the rush of adrenaline that was pouring through his bloodstream as he gaped on. Just then, as he watched on with expectant anticipation, his mother slowly turned and faced the loophole.
She stood facing him with her eyes closed as he feasted his eyes on her beautiful face and body. While he did, her handmaiden was slowly wiping the soapy cloth his mother’s back.
As she had turned, his eyes had been immediately drawn from her face down to the two perfect, white breasts dangling down from her chest. They were exquisite! He had seen breasts before, but never any of such incomparable size and beauty. Comparing her breasts to the breasts he had seen before was like comparing apples to melons. It was obvious that the same master sculptor that had sculpted her perfect ass had molded her exquisite breasts. The only difference was the white alabaster he had chosen for her breasts was laced with faint veins of blue. And the sculptor had tipped each of the magnificent sculptures with a perfectly round circle of a darker pink. Then, as a crowning touch, he had topped each of them off with a jutting nipple of purple. The beautiful sculptures were monuments to the personification of femininity and womanhood.
Finally able to tear his eyes away from the jiggling, bobbing giants, he ran his eyes down over the softly rounded swell of her abdomen. It wasn’t hard and flat like the bellies of the hardworking wenches he had enticed into the stables, but its slight roundness made her seem just that much more exotic. More alluring. More sensual.
At last his eyes swept down over the V of her belly and the tangle of damp, black curls that covered it. The rumors didn’t do her justice, he sickly thought. She wasn’t one of the most beautiful women in the land, she was THE most beautiful woman in the land . . . maybe even in the whole wide world.
As he gawked on with reverent awe, he watched his mother, the queen slowly bend down and grasp hold of the rounded edge of the copper tub. Resting her weight on her hands, she slowly inched her long legs apart. As she did, Atheling saw the handmaiden’s hands appear up between the queen’s widespread legs. The hand slowly slipped up through the queen’s legs with a finger extended and found the queen’s large, swollen clit. Then, Atheling thought his fully hardened prick was going to explode as he watched the girl stick out two fingers and ease them up into the queen’s cunt. Was this where the title “handmaiden” came from, he dizzily wondered, watching the girl slide her fingers in and out of the queen sopping pussy. Watching the handmaiden rub her finger back and forth across the queen’s swollen clit as she fucked the queen’s cunt with her fingers was the most perversely exciting thing he’d ever seen.
Watching his mother’s giant tits bobble up and down as the girl fucked her with her fingers, Atheling dug his hand down into his britches and hauled out his big, stiff prick. He couldn’t believe this was all happening as he stroked his cock and watched his mother, the queen getting fucked by her handmaiden. This was his mother, the queen. The very epitome of purity and virtue in his eyes. And she was letting her handmaiden fuck her with her fingers. It was all just too much.
He could feel the cum down in his balls beginning to bubble and boil as he continued to whack his cock while he watched.
All at once, his mother’s head flew back. She let out a loud, gasping grunt and her whole body began to shake and shiver. Then her hips began to bob up and down as she fucked the handmaiden’s fingers while they slid in and out of her cunt.
This went on for the longest time, until at last, he saw the grimace melt off his mother’s pretty face and her hips ground to a slow stop. As they did, the handmaiden eased her fingers out of the queen’s pussy and swirled them around in the soapy water to wash away the goo that covered them.
That did it for Atheling as he felt his peter lurch and spurt out a giant wad of cum onto the castle wall.
As Atheling’s continued to jerk and spurt out more and more thick, gooey cum, he watched as his mother pushed up off the edge of the tub and stood back up. Her massive breasts floundered about wildly as she stepped out of the tub and then walked out of his line of sight.
At last his cock stopped spurting and began to soften. Stuffing it back in his pants, he stumbled back out of the bushes and headed back to his room with the image of his beautiful mother dancing in his head.
From that day forward, young Prince Atheling spent a goodly portion of his time spying on the queen whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Then one day another even more lurid display of lewdness unfolded before his eyes.
His mother was bathing, alone this time. She was sitting in the copper tub slowly running a soapy washcloth over her gigantic tits as Atheling stood watching and slowly working his hand up and down his big, rock-hard cock. Then Atheling heard a sound. It came from out of his line of sight so he couldn’t see what made the sound. But he saw his mother turn her head to the side and smile. From his loophole, Atheling initially couldn’t see what had caused the smile but he quickly found out, as his father, the king came walking up to the tub where his mother sat. His father said something to the queen, but Atheling couldn’t make out what he said.
Just then, the queen slowly laid the washcloth on the edge of the tub and reached out to the front of the king’s britches. Looking up at the king with a mischievous smile on her pretty lips, she began to unbutton the buttons running down the front of the king’s breeches. Atheling could see the big bulge thrusting out against his father’s pants as his mother’s finger’s crawled downward over it. Then when she unbuttoned the last button, she slowly spread the king’s breeches open and his big, limp prick flopped out into the open.
Atheling heard the queen murmur something, but couldn’t make out the words as he watched her take his father’s cock in her hand and slowly lift it up to her mouth. What was she doing, he giddily wondered? Was she going to put his father’s cock in her mouth? He’d never heard of such a thing, but it sent a shiver of excitement trickling through his own cock as he watched. Then he saw his mother open her mouth and slowly, sensually ease the big, purple head of the king’s cock into her mouth. Atheling jerked his hand away from his cock not wanting to shoot his wad before he saw what was going to happen next.
The queen kept leaning forward easing her lips down the flaccid shaft of the king’s cock until at last, her full, red lips were encircling its thick, hairy base. She had the whole damned thing inside her mouth, Atheling giddily thought. The whole thing! He couldn’t believe it. Then he saw the queen’s cheeks hollow as she began to suck on the king’s cock. As she did, the king reached down and lovingly ran his pudgy fingers through her damp, black hair.
Atheling watched on in an envious daze as the queen eagerly sucked on the king’s peter. Time seemed to fly by and it seemed to be only a matter of seconds before the king’s prodigious peter was jutting out in front of him stiff and hard.
Now the queen had her hands wrapped around the jutting monster as she hungrily devoured it with her mouth. As she gobbled away, the king curled his fingers down into the queen’s hair and began working his fat ass back and forth while he slowly fucked the queen’s pretty face. As the king’s big dick slid in and out between the queen’s lips, she ran her hands around to his ass, clutching it, pushing and pulling on it to control the tempo of the lewd act.
Was he going to come in her mouth, Atheling wondered? Was the queen going to let him shoot his wad in her mouth? The king’s ass moved back and forth faster and faster until all of a sudden, he jerked back and pulled his spit-covered peter out of her mouth. Then he reached down and took hold of her hands.
Atheling watched on as she struggled to her feet in the tub. Streams of bubbly water coursed down her exquisite body as the king let go of her hands and pushed his pants down his hairy legs. Stepping out of them, he took the queen’s hand as she stepped out of the tub. Atheling watched her mammoth breasts quiver and bob as the king led her toward her big, queen-sized, four poster bed. The king’s big, stiff peter jutted out in front of him, flouncing up and down wildly as he shuffled toward the bed.
Reaching the bed, the queen immediately crawled up on it and rolled over onto her back. Atheling watched on in an envious rage as she quickly spread her legs apart and fingered her pussy open. Now she was open and ready for the king as he quickly crawled up between her outstretched legs. If only it were me she was inviting down between her legs, Atheling jealously thought as the king grabbed hold of his cock and aimed it down at the gaping hole between her legs. If only that was my cock, Atheling resentfully thought as he watched the king mount her and slide his big peter down inside the queen’s greedy cunt.
Atheling couldn’t watch anymore. He wanted her so badly he ached all over as he stuffed his cock back in his pants and stumbled back out of the bushes. There had to be a way, he told himself. A way to get the queen mother into his bed. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he did.
His delusional fixation on his mother grew with each passing day until it became an obsession with him. And as his obsession with his mother grew, his hate for his father, the king grew on a proportional scale. He was tottering on the brink of insanity when he finally decided he had to act . . .
~
Prince Atheling’s big, black war-horse went clattering across the drawbridge and out into the bailey of the castle. Reining the behemoth to a stop, he tossed the reins down to the groom waiting for him and dropped to his feet by the giant horse. Patting the horse’s lathered neck, he turned and quickly strode across the stone floor toward the castle entrance.
Stepping inside, he saw that everyone was dressed in black. Every one was grieving for the lately departed king. His father, good King Enclaus, had been killed by a bolt from a crossbow in the recent battle of Hastings. Too bad, Prince Atheling smiled to himself, finding little incentive to mourn the passing of his father. His father’s death had conveniently opened up a whole new world to Prince Atheling. And soon, he would no longer be Prince Atheling! He would be christened King Atheling. The new king and it would be him ruling the land, not his poor, deceased father. Then, at last, he would finally be able to quiet the insistent craving that he had carried with him for so long.
The only thing nagging the prince was the little sliver of guilt he felt. How could the bolt from his crossbow go so far wide? It was almost as if the bolt had a mind of its own and had flown straight for his father’s heart. And how could he have known of the chink in his father’s mail that had been weakened by the hand of someone close to the king? How could he, the best crossbowman in the land have his shot go so wrong? Why if one didn’t know better, one would say that he did it on purpose. And now, it was his destiny to take over the land. Take his father’s place. Take over the land and the king’s possessions. All of the old king’s possessions . . .
Just then, Prince Atheling saw his mother, Queen Ides come striding toward him with tears streaming down her pretty face. She was dressed in a long, flowing, black cote-hardie and he couldn’t keep from dropping his eyes down to her bounteous bosom as it floundered about under the dress. The sweeping neckline of the black, velvet dress revealed the tops of her large breasts and seemed to magnify their size and volume. And the fact that her breasts were filled with breast milk made Prince Atheling even more determined to have them as his own.
“Oh, my son,” she blubbered out, stepping up to him and wrapping her arms around him.
The prince reveled in the feel of her bosom crushed against his chest as he slowly wrapped his arms around her to return her hug.
“I’m so sorry, mother,” Prince Atheling lied, crocodile tears streaming down his cheeks as he pulled her to him. “I wish that it had been me instead of him . . .”
“No, no, you mustn’t think that, my son. What is done is done. Now we must move on,” she wept, stepping back and daintily dabbing at her tear-stained cheek with a black, silk handkerchief. “I can only be thankful that the both of you weren’t taken from me.”
“You still have a part of him,” Prince Atheling said, reaching out and wiping away a big tear off her cheek with the back of a finger. “You have Prince Gothling . . . and me . . .”
“Yes, I know and if you’ll excuse me, my Lord, I must go to the prince now,” she told him, stepping back away from him. “It is time for his feeding . . .”
“We’ll talk later, my Queen,” he mumbled watching her turn away from him.
Then he stood watching the sway of her long, black dress as she quickly made her way over to the nursery maid who stood holding little Prince Gothling. Nursing time, he thought, watching the queen lead the maid across the main hall toward her quarters. Enjoy your time with your other son while you may, my mother, he said to himself. For Prince Gothling’s remaining time on this earth is short . . .
In a week’s time, the coronation of Prince Atheling was over and he was now the king of the land. After he was king, he systematically set about replacing his father’s men with ones he knew were loyal to himself. Finally, there was only one last detail left that he needed to take care of. Prince Gothling! Prince Gothling, his brother, was his last threat to the throne. And that threat had to be removed . . .
He sent a message to Baron Sade, his most trusted and loyal friend inviting him to join him in his chambers . . .
“Baron, my friend,” the king smiled, motioning for the Baron to take a seat in the ornate chair that sat by the roaring fire. “I’ve brought you here to ask a great favor of you.”
“Yes, my sire?” the baron asked, smiling and taking the gold goblet of wine that the king offered him. “What can a lowly baron do for my king?”
“I have a task for you that calls for a most discrete handling,” the king said, stepping over to the other chair sitting by the fireplace. “I would do it myself, but it would be so, so unkingly, shall we say.”
“What is this task, my sire?” the baron asked, taking a sip of wine.
“It is one for which you will be well rewarded for, my liege,” the king smiled.
“What my sire? What? The suspense is killing me,” the baron asked.
“Prince Gothling!” the king stated.
The baron looked back at him with a puzzled look on his face. “Prince Gothling? I don’t understand my Lord.”
“I need someone to remove the last challenge to my throne . . .”
“You—you mean—you mean kill Prince Gothling?” the baron choked out his face turning an ashen white.
“Yes, that is what I mean! And the rank of earl will be yours when the job is done.”
Atheling could almost hear the wheels turning inside the baron’s head as the color slowly seeped back into his face.
“Earl! Earl of Sade? That does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it,” the baron smiled, the shock of the request seemingly dissipated by the promise of the new rank.
“Then you’ll do this for me?” the king asked, taking another sip of wine.
“Consider it done, my sire,” the baron said, lifting his goblet in a salute to the king. “Your wish is my command . . .”
The next morning, the king rose early and went out to his throne.
The wait was short as he heard a horrifying scream rent the air of the castle. The scream came from the queen’s quarters and he immediately knew that the baron, no, make that the Earl of Sade had been successful.
Just then, the door to the queen’s chamber’s crashed open and the queen came staggering out carrying the lifeless body of Prince Gothling in her arms.
“He is dead!” she screamed. “Dead! Who would kill such a dear child?”
Just then, her eyes found his. A momentary look of hate flitted across her face and she held the baby out toward him.
“He’s dead . . .” she groaned out, dropping to her knees and clutching the child to her bosom.
Now she’ll need someone else to suckle those big breasts, he sickly thought. And I know just the person to take over for poor, Prince Gothling.
The king let his mother mourn the loss of her son for a week before he put his plan into motion. After the week passed, he sent a note to her asking her to join him in his quarters. And to bring milk with her for he was thirsting for a drink of milk.Sitting by the fireplace, King Atheling sipped on a goblet of wine as he waited for his mother to respond to his request. The roaring fire had taken the chill off the room as the brisk winds of winter blew outside. Snow had begun to fall and was now beginning to stick to the ground. It promised to be a day that would drive a person inside, he told himself, smiling in anticipation of what he had planned to occupy himself on this cold, blustery day.
When he heard the light knock on the door, he set his goblet down and slowly walked to the door. Pulling it open, he saw his mother standing in the hall with a jug of milk in her hands.
“Come in, Mother,” he said, stepping aside and waving his hand in a flourish to welcome her inside.
“I’ve brought your milk, my sire,” she murmured, stepping inside as the king closed the door behind her.
“I see you have,” Atheling said, “Put it on the table and come sit.”
He watched her slowly step to the table and set the jug on it. Then he motioned to the same chair that the Earl of Sade had sat in on that auspicious day that he had agreed to kill Prince Gothling.
As she sat down, Atheling strolled over to the other chair and sat down facing her.
“I am lonely, Mother and I have decided to take a queen to ease that loneliness,” he smiled, taking a tiny sip of wine.
“Oh,” she murmured. “Who? Who is to be your new queen?”
“I have decided to invoke my kingly right to succession,” he said, watching her as she looked back at him with a puzzled look on her face. “Invoke my right to take the hand of the old king’s queen.”
“What?” she gasped.
“I have no need for another queen,” the prince smiled, letting his eyes stray down to her bosom, then back to her ashen face. “I have my mother to stand by my side as my queen . . .”
Her hand flew up to her throat as she looked at him with a fearful, confused look on her pretty face.
“Me? Your mother? Your mother as your queen?” she gasped. “How can that be?”
“I am the king, mother! I can do anything I please . . .” he grinned. “Anything I please . . . and it would be best if one didn’t forget that . . .”
“Yes, my sire,” she mumbled, staring at him with a shocked look on her face.
Then Atheling pushed himself up out of the chair and purposefully stepped over to the table. He could see that his revelation had unsettled her as he reached out and picked up the jug of milk.
As she sat watching him, he slowly tipped the jug. The white milk poured out onto the floor, splashing and sending white droplets flying all over, some of them even splattering onto her dress.
“My sire,” she gasped, staring down at the milk as it spread out over the floor. “Why? You . . . you told me to bring milk.”
“Come, my Mother,” he said, placing the empty jug on the table and stepping over to where she sat. “Did you really think I wanted cow’s milk when I can have mother’s milk!”
“What, what do you mean?” she asked as he stood smugly looking down at her.
Atheling reached down to her and slowly ran his fingers over the swell of her bosom. “This is the milk I thirst for, Mother.”
Ides gasped, staring down at her son’s hand as it brushed across her heaving bosom.
“You can’t . . . you can’t . . . I can’t . . . not that,” she whimpered, starting to push his hand away, but thinking better of it.
“Yes, Mother, I can,” he told her kneeling to the floor in front of her. “Remember, Mother, dear, I am the king, and I can do as I wish.”
Then, as she stared down at his hand, she watched as he began to unbutton the bodice of her dress.
“This is . . . you can’t . . . please . . .” she begged as he continued to slowly move his fingers down the front of her dress unbuttoning button after button. “I am your mother . . .”
“But I am also your king . . .” Atheling reminded her. “And you have milk that is going to waste. You have no one to give it to . . . And what can be wrong with giving your milk to your own son? Just as you did, lo those long years ago.”
“Please, my king, please, don’t do this,” she begged.
Finally Atheling’s fingers stopped moving down her dress which was now unbuttoned all the way down to her waist.
Looking down, she could see that his fingers were trembling as he delicately pinched the material between his fingers and thumbs and slowly began to spread her dress open.
She couldn’t stop the blush of red that painted her face as Atheling spread her dress open to reveal the two ripened melons jutting out from her chest. They were exquisite examples of motherhood as they hung down from her chest, heavy and laden with mother’s milk.
Atheling had never seen a pair of breasts so beautiful as he gawked down at the drooping treasures. So full, so ripe like two melons ready to be harvested. Melons filled with the nectar of the gods. Nectar to quench the thirst that he had endured for so long. He had thought them to be big before, but now, heavily laden with breast milk, they were huge.
And now they were his. Cherished prizes to feast his eyes on and his to bring forth the liquid treasure they held.
King Atheling slowly ran the tips of his fingers over his mother’s sagging udders, marveling in their smooth softness.
“So beautiful . . .” he whispered, gently fingering the swollen, purple nipple that jutted out of the center of the darkened tip of one giant breast.
“Please, my king, please don’t do this . . .” she wept as tears began to flow down her cheeks and drip down off her jaws onto her quivering breasts.
“But I must, Mother,” he murmured. “We mustn’t let the treasure they hold go to waste. I must taste your sweet mother’s milk once again. Taste it and drink from your beautiful breast just as I did so long ago.”
As he spoke, Atheling gently cupped the tear-slickened breast and slowly lifted it up to his mouth.
“Please, my king . . .” she begged watching him purse his lips around the big, jutting nipple.
Atheling began to gently suck on the swollen pap. As he did, milk began to flow from it. Slowly at first, the sweet milk trickled out into his mouth as he savored its rich sweetness. As he suckled her, she wept, her sobs making her other udder quiver and bobble beside his face. The flow of milk flowing out into his mouth slowly became thicker and thicker as he sucked harder and harder.
Finally, Atheling let go of his mother’s nipple and kissed his way down into the valley between her big, milk-laden breasts and up onto her other quivering breast. As he did, milk continued to trickle out of the nipple he had just suckled. The white liquid ran down the rounded under slope of her breast and down onto her heaving belly to where it was soaked up by her dress. But it went unseen by him as he pursed his lips around her other nipple and began to suck on it.
His mother continued to weep as he drank his fill of her sweet mother’s milk. At last, he was finished with her breasts. Then, as she continued to sniffle and try to choke back the tears, Atheling pushed up to his feet in front of her. Looking down at her, he watched as she ran the backs of her hands across her tear-stained cheeks trying to wipe away the tears.
“My britches,” Atheling said to her. “Open my britches, Mother.”
Her mouth dropped open as she stared up at him in disbelief.
“No—no—you can’t—not that,” she gasped.
“Open my britches, Mother,” he said, watching a look of revulsion wash across her face. “Open my britches and find your king’s gift to you. I wish to repay your generous offering of milk with a gift of my own milk.”
“No—no—I can’t—” she wept, her eyes dropping down to the bulge jutting out in the front of his britches.
“You must, my queen,” he told her, reaching down and roughly grasping her hand in his. “I am your king. It is your duty as queen to please your king . . .”
Just then, he lifted her hand and shoved it up against the bulge.
“No—no—please, my king,” she pleaded as he held her trembling hand thrust against his hard, throbbing cock.
“Feel it? Feel what your beauty has done to it! It is you who have done this to me. It is you that has made it hard and swollen,” he snarled. “Now you must take it and make it soft once again.”
“Oh, my Lord, please, please don’t do this thing. It’s, it’s sacrilege . . .” she wept.
“Open my britches, my queen,” he told her, a hint of anger creeping into his voice.
More tears were streaming down her cheeks dropping down onto her quivering breasts as she wept. Then finally, her trembling fingers crept up to the button at the top of his britches. Sobbing plaintively, she slowly pushed the button through the buttonhole. Then with a look of fear, she slowly spread open his pants. As she did, Atheling’s big, hard penis sprang out into the open.
He heard the sharp intake of breath as his mother stared at the giant, evil creature bobbing up and down in front of her face.
“Touch it, my queen,” Atheling told her, stepping closer. “Touch your king’s royal scepter.”
“I can’t—please, I can’t,” she sobbed. “I’m your mother . . . please don’t make me do this . . .”
“But you’re my queen; too,” he told her, inching even closer. “And it is your duty to please your king!”
Then, he grabbed hold of her trembling hand again and roughly thrust it against his twitching cock.
“Touch it and feel its power,” he said, holding her shaking hand against his cock. “Wouldn’t you like to feel that power down between your legs. Feel its power filling your cunt . . .”
“Please—please—please—” she pleaded, straining to pull her hand away from his cock.
“But you must, my queen . . . it is my command . . . and you know what happens to those who disobey the king’s commands, don’t you,” he told her, straining to hold her hand against his penis.
As the threat sank in, he felt her slowly stop resisting.
“Hold it,” he ordered her. “Hold it in your hand and fondle it.”
“Please, please, my king, don’t . . . don’t make me do this,” she wept.
But even as she spoke her little hand slowly curled around the thick shaft of his jutting cock.
“Is it bigger?” he asked her, thrusting his cock at her. “Is it bigger than my father’s cock was?”
“Yes—yes,” she hissed. “Yes, it is bigger than your father’s . . .”
Yes, he arrogantly thought. He was bigger than his father was, and now he was going to lay claim to the treasure that his father had hoarded all the long years. Now that treasure that lay down between her pretty legs was waiting for him. Waiting for him to take it as his own.
“Kiss it,” he commanded. “Kiss the royal scepter with your lips . . .”
“No—I can’t,” she whined.
“But you must . . . you must show it respect before it enters your sacred chalice,” he scoffed. “Show it the same respect that you showed to father’s royal scepter. Surely you didn’t disrespect father’s scepter, did you?”
“No—no—I didn’t disrespect your father,” she whimpered. “I did touch it that way . . . to please him, but you, you’re my son.”
“Then please your new king, too,” he grunted, reaching out and cupping the back of her head in the palm of his hand.
Straining against her resistance, he forced her head toward him at the same time he inched his hips forward.
“Take it,” he growled as the big, purple head of his cock nudged up against her full, red lips. “Take it in your mouth and show it your respect!”
Pressing his cock against her soft lips, he continued to pull her toward him. Finally, he watched her lips part and the head of his cock slowly slipped in between them.
“Suck on it, my queen,” he panted, thrusting his cock into her mouth. “Suck on it just like you sucked on father’s cock. Suck out its sweet essence.”
Pushing his cock into her mouth, he had almost half of his cock buried down inside it before he felt her begin to tentatively suck on it. He wanted to come in her mouth so badly. But he couldn’t. Not the first time. The first time must be reserved for her cunt. He must fill it with his seed and let her give him an heir. Once she was with child, his child, then he would make her drink from his fountain of youth. Make her drink from it and swallow its creamy load down into her belly.
“Harder—suck it harder—” he ordered her, reaching out and grabbing hold of a handful of her hair. Then he felt her suck harder as he held her head in between his hands and fucked her pretty face.
Tears were still streaming down her face, dripping down onto his muscular thighs and her bobbling breasts as he fucked her hot mouth.
At last, he slowly backed his jutting prick out of his mother’s mouth. As it came out she was sucking on it so hard, it made a loud, slurping sound. As he looked down at her, he saw that she couldn’t return his look as her eyes shifted from side to side avoiding his. Then, he reached down and took her hands in his. Gently pulling on them, he lifted her to her feet. As she stood, her big, heavy breasts bobbled and quivered making her swollen nipples bob up and down flinging drops of milk every where.
Atheling slowly peeled her dress down off her the slope of her shoulders and down her arms. Then, he dug his thumbs down under her dress and began easing it down over her rounded hips. Leaning down as he pushed her dress lower, he found one of her jutting nipples with his lips and began teasing his tongue back and forth across it. All at once, her dress went slithering down her legs to puddle at her feet. Stepping back, King Atheling saw that she was wearing a pair of shimmering, red, satin pantaloons. They were the only thing hiding her treasure from his hungry eyes.
“Please, my king . . . please don’t do this . . . I will do the other to respect your royal scepter, but please, not this . . .” she pleaded holding her arms crossed in front of her mammoth breasts.
“But my queen, how am I to father an heir, if we don’t’,” he said. “We must . . .”
Reaching down with both hands, he quickly pushed her red pantaloons down over the swell of her hips. As her pantaloons went whispering down her legs, Atheling saw the forest of curly, black curls covering the Y of her belly. But he had only a momentary glance at it before she covered it with a hand.
“Please, please, my king, please, anything but this . . . ” she wept, trying to hide herself from his prying eyes.
“Come, my beautiful queen,” he murmured, taking hold of the hand covering the mass of black curls at the base of her softly rounded belly.
“Please, my King, we can’t, not that . . . please . . . don’t hurt me,” she wept straining back away from him, digging her feet in to keep from being pulled toward the bed.
“Come, my Queen, and you will suffer no injuries, only pleasure,” he told her, tugging her toward the bed.
“Please,” she whined, tears running down her cheeks as she fought against him.
“I do not wish to harm you. So you must stop resisting. It is inevitable . . .” he growled, a hint of anger in his voice.
Suddenly, the resistance flowed from her body and she went limp, letting herself be docilely led to the bed.
“Crawl onto the bed,” he told her, releasing her hand.
Meekly, she leaned down over the bed, her huge tits swinging below her as she placed knee on the bed and crawled up on it. As she did, King Atheling lovingly ran his fingers over the soft smoothness of her perfect, round ass. This, too, one day, my Queen, he promised himself.
Unbuttoning his ruffled blouse, he watched her lower herself down onto her belly and then slowly roll over onto her back. He stood looking down at her massive breasts as they jiggled softly while she lay with her head turned to the side, softly sobbing and avoiding his eyes.
Peeling his blouse back over his muscular shoulders, he tossed it down onto the foot of the bed. As she lay with her arms at her sides, her mammoth breasts were so large they draped down over her arms partially obscuring them from view.
Leaning down over her, he eased his hands under her legs and lifted them, pulling her toward him at the same time. Pulling her toward him, he continued until her perfect, round ass was resting on the edge of the bed with the oozing, pink gash between her legs poised just above it.
Gently, he lowered her legs until her dainty feet were resting on the stone floor. Now he was standing in between her legs as she lay half on and half off the bed. Then he slowly lowered himself down to his knees between her legs. Suddenly he found himself face to face with the weeping love wound at the pit of her mother’s softly rounded belly. It was just as beautiful as he remembered it being. Maybe even more beautiful now, because it was his. Its thick, meaty lips were wetly cleaving together, hiding the secrecy of the forbidden opening between them. And above the fleshy, dusky-pink lips, her clit jutted out hard and swollen. It was the biggest clit he had ever seen, and by its size and swollen condition, Atheling could see that despite his mother’s protestations, she must be feeling some element of arousal.
Reaching out, Atheling ran his fingers along the smooth softness of her quivering thighs, pushing on them, spreading them wider apart and opening her to him.
“Please . . . no . . .” he heard her softly plead as he leaned closer to her and eased his tongue out.
Then he slowly, teasingly ran his tongue over the jutting bulb of her clit as it jutted up out of its fleshy hood.
“Nooooo . . . ohhhhhhh,” he heard her murmur, the protest seeming to change into a murmured surrender.
Slowly, he began to flick his tongue back and forth across her vulnerable clit. Teasing and tormenting it, he saw her clawed hands dig down into the bed sheets as the muscles in her belly tensed and quivered. Was she fighting to come . . . or to keep from coming, he sickly wondered as he continued to attack her defenseless clit?
“No . . . No . . . No . . .” she whimpered out. But even as she protested, he felt her ever so gently begin to thrust herself against his hungry mouth.
As she lay quietly sobbing, Atheling could see that the big, purple nipples jutting up out of her breasts were painted with her milk. Reaching up over her straining belly, he wrapped one hand around one of the flattened giants and gave it a rough squeeze. As he did, a stream of milk shot up into the air, dropping back down and coating his hand and her breast with a splattering of warm, sticky milk.
The protests had ceased, replaced by soft, murmuring moans as the thrusting of her hips became more and more insistent. Raising his other hand up under his chin, he stuck out two fingers and slowly eased them up to her pussy. Fingering open her goo-covered pussy lips, he pushed his fingers up into the hot clutch of her cunt.
“Unnnnnnnn . . .” she groaned out, the muscles encircling her vagina collapsing down around his fingers, clutching at them and squeezing them.
Working his fingers in and out of her gooey cunt, Atheling could feel his mother growing more and more agitated. Her whole body was tensing, straining as she thrust herself back against his hand and mouth.
“No—no—no—” she groaned out, her head twisting from side to side, but he wouldn’t relent as he kept licking his tongue back and forth across her clit.
Sensing that she was teetering on the edge, he slowly lifted his mouth away from her clit. Smirking, he looked up over her heaving belly to her grimaced face.
“Would my Queen like to come?” he asked her, smirking at her through his juice-smeared lips. “Would she like to finish . . .”
“Yes—yes—please—please let me come,” she pleaded, thrusting her pussy up at him, lifting her beautiful ass up off the bed. “Please—please—touch it—touch it and lick it—make me come—”
“But, Mother, how could I let that happen,” he smirked again, slowly pushing up to his feet between her outstretched legs. “You know the King comes first . . . he must be pleased first before he could allow you to finish . . .””What—what my, King—what can I do for you . . . I’ll do anything you say,” she groveled out. “But please let me come . . .”
“I will take care of that, Mother,” he told her, reaching down and grasping hold of one of her long legs. Thrusting it up into the air, he rested its back against his belly and chest. Then he lifted her other leg up into the air. Her calves were resting against his shoulders and her dainty feet brushing against his temples as he reached down and wrapped his fist around his big, jutting penis.
Stepping closer, he aimed the tapered head of the jutting monster down at the weeping slit between her fat, gorged pussy lips.
“Does the queen want the king to fuck her?” he asked her, slowly rubbing the head of his dick up and down between her juice-slathered cunt lips.
“Yes—yes—” she hissed. “Yes, my king—fuck your queen.”
“Would Mother like her Son to fuck her?” he maliciously asked, fitting the tapered tip of his cock down into the oozing, weeping hole at the bottom of her pussy. “Would Mother like for her Son to fuck her with his big, hard cock?”
“Yes—please—put it in,” she murmured, her eyes tightly clenched together. “Put it in and fuck me with your big, hard cock . . .”
As she spoke, Atheling leaned forward and slowly eased his penis down into the hot, sucking clutch of her cunt.
“No—No—Yes—Yes—Oh, my King . . .” she groveled as he pushed it into her deeper and deeper.
It was everything he thought it would be and more, he giddily told himself, much more. He continued to slowly ease his cock down into her until it was buried all the way up to his big, dangling balls.
Her resisting had made it that much more depraved and exciting. And now her sudden capitulation was the icing on the cake.
“An heir . . . an heir . . . you must give me an heir,” he told her, holding his cock thrust down into the hot muck of her cunt as he ground himself against her.
“No . . . No . . . no, my Lord . . . not that,” she exclaimed. “No, not a child!”
“Yes—yes—a child—my heir—” he grunted, jerking his penis back and then slamming it back into her as hard as he could. “Take my seed and make me an heir down inside your womb . . .”
The time for talk was over, he feverishly thought as he began to fuck her with deep, teeth-rattling strokes. He had waited twenty years for this moment and he was going to savor every last second of it. Fucking her at a furious pace, he leaned down, pressing her legs back down until her knees were almost touching her shoulders. Leaning down through her thighs, he found one of her big, swollen nipples with his lips.
As he began to suck and pluck at her big, puffy nipple she wrapped her hand around her breast and began to squeeze and clutch at it. A stream of thick, rich milk squirted out of the nipple, coating his tongue as he savored it sweetness. Keeping his hips rocking back and forth, he continued to saw his big cock in and out of the clutching tightness of her cunt. As he mercilessly fucked her, the backs of her thighs were rubbing against his sweaty chest, her calves bouncing up and down on his shoulders as her feet waved in the air above his head.
Picking up the pace one more notch, he lifted his mouth up off her breast. But she kept squeezing and kneading her giant breast making more warm milk squirt out of it and splatter all over his face. Humping his big cock in and out of her at a furious pace, he watched the stream of milky white squirt out of the big, purple nipples and shoot up into the air. Her breasts, her thighs, her belly, her face and his face were covered with warm, sticky droplets of her milk as he continued to pump away at her hungry cunt. Fucking her was the end of his life long quest for the Holy Grail, but the fucking and the milk made it all so much more exhilarating. Watching her milk herself, spraying him with her precious nectar made it al that much more decadent and perverted. It was as if she were trying to resist and withhold herself from him while at the same time giving in to the passion of the moment.
Then, suddenly, her arms flew out to the side as she dug her clawed fingers down into the bed sheets. A loud, straining groan escaped her lips as she arched her back and thrust herself up against the pounding attack on her pussy.
Seeing that she was coming, Atheling shoved his big cock down into the clutching, spasming depths of her cunt to let her ride out the storm on it.
Her huge tits, drug down by their weight, rubbed against the bed, their big, puffy nipples pointing out to the side as they suddenly began to squirt out streams of pure, white milk. Spurting out to the side, the streams splashed down on her arms and hands, spotting them with a cloud of white droplets.
Atheling could feel her quivering thighs pattering against his sweaty chest as her stiffened legs pointed straight up into the air. Her dainty feet were arched, curling her toes and pointing them at the ceiling as she groveled through her orgasm. With her head thrown back, eyes clenched shut, her whole body was quivering and shaking as she fought on, coming and coming and coming. Atheling could feel her hot juices leaking out around his embedded cock, dripping down to his dangling balls and coating them with its sticky heat.
It seemed like it would never end for her as she continued to whimper and groan her way through it. At last, the trembling stopped, her muscles softening and relaxing. Her eyelids slowly opened and she looked up at him with a dazed, groggy look on her face.
Her big tits were still leaking out milk, but it was no longer squirting out in streams. It was now slowly oozing out of the big, purple nipples, trickling down the rounded swell of her breast to the bed below. There were two large damp spots under her breasts where the milk was being soaked up by the bed sheets.
Such a waste, he complained to himself as he began to slowly work his big cock in and out of her juice-slathered cunt. Her eyes fluttered shut again and a tiny frown creased her forehead as he fucked her with deep, penetrating strokes. Then he felt her begin to thrust herself back at his pounding attack. The frown grew deeper and he felt her fingers on his hips, clutching at him, guiding him, pushing and pulling, urging him to fuck her harder.
His ass was rocking back and forth like a runaway pendulum moving faster and faster. As it did, his big, juice-smeared cock sloshed in and out of his mother’s hot, clutching cunt churning its juice into a frothy foam that covered his flopping balls and her upturned ass. He could feel the burn down inside his balls growing hotter as they slapped up against his mother’s ass. Finally, he frantically told himself. Finally, after all the years of unrequited frustration, he was going fill the forbidden chalice with his potent cream. Fill it and plant his seed down inside her fertile womb. He would give her a child. A child to replace the child he had taken from her. Their child. His heir!
“My Queen! My Queen!” he gasped as he felt the explosion of pleasure rip through his cock. As it did, his penis lurched down inside her clutching pussy and spewed out a massive gush of thick, potent cum.
“My King! My King!” his mother groaned out, clutching her cunt down around his erupting penis, sucking on it, pulling on it, milking out its venomous load of sperm-filled semen.
He was coming, he feverishly thought. Coming down inside the warm, wet core of her womanhood. Coming and filling her with his fiery essence. As he did, she ground herself back against him, taking him inside her as deep as she could.
Wallowing in the perverse degeneracy of their incestuous communion, Atheling held his spewing, spurting cock thrust down into her cum-filled chalice until if finally stopped firing off.
Slowly backing his cum-coated peter out of the widely stretched opening of her vagina. Atheling looked down to see a long, ropy strand of cum leak out of her pussy and drip down onto the stone floor. Mesmerized by the sheer obscenity of it all, he watched as more and more of the gooey, white goop ran out of her. There was already a thick, goopy puddle of the stuff between his feet as he saw the stream slowly diminish to one long, thin string of cum stretching from her pussy down to the floor.
Stepping back another step, he slowly let her legs down, easing her dainty feet down onto the floor.
Reaching down, he grasped her hands and gently pulled her to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
He couldn’t decipher the look she gave him, but it seemed to be something between anger and despair.
“Are you through with me, my Lord,” she asked him, slowly rising to her feet as he shuffled over to where her dress lay on the floor. “Or do you wish to use me again?”
“Yes, I wish to use you again,” he retorted, angered by her rebuff as he swept her dress up off the floor and tossed it at her. “But not now . . . come back at mid-afternoon . . . and bring more milk for I will wish to quench my thirst with it once again.”
“Yes, my Lord,” she quietly mumbled, slowly slipping her dress back on.
Then Atheling reached down and picked up her red, satin pantaloons. Lifting them up to face, he buried his nose in their stained their crotch and took a deep sniff.
“I will keep these as my trophy,” he smirked at her, tossing them onto the table. “A trophy to remind me of the great conquest I made today . . .”
“Yes, my Lord,” she murmured, slowly buttoning her dress as Atheling filled his goblet with more wine.
Finally her dress was buttoned and she slowly walked toward the door, her long dress swishing from side to side as the hem drug on the floor.
“I shall return, my Lord. Just as you have ordered me to,” she said, standing at the door with her hand poised on the heavy iron latch. “And I will bring more milk . . . milk to quench the king’s thirst . . .”

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