* * * * * Author's Note: I asked my wife, Bea (not her real name), to collaborate with me in the writing and editing of this 8th chapter of my Blacked and Betrayed story, which I wanted to tell exclusively from the perspective of the main female character in the story. * * * * * Blacked and Betrayed by rat_race and slick_chick * * * * * CHAPTER 8 - Did someone say mulatto? * * * * * I had gone to Fort Worth for the expressed purpose of attending my 15-year high school class reunion.
But, with my husband's blessing, I had chosen to extend my stay by nearly a week, so that I would have the chance to visit with several relatives and old friends, while I was in town. And it was great seeing everyone again, and catching up on old times. But before I go any further, let me take a moment to introduce myself. My name's Sally, and I'm Carl's wife. And I figured it's high time that you heard my side of this whole convoluted story.
At any rate, my trip to Fort Worth was also kind of bittersweet for me. It made me think of my deceased father a lot, while I was there. And that was pretty hard to deal with, considering how much I loved that very special man. This was the man who had lovingly raised me from a small child. The same man who had so graciously shared his bed with me, after my mother's death. The same man who, over the course of several months, had managed to resist every one of my subtle attempts to seduce him into having sex with me.
The same man who had finally given in to the desires of the flesh, and taken my virginity--but only after I had boldly seduced him to the point that I had left him with very little choice in the matter. My father was that very special man in my life who could keep on steadily humping away at my baby-making hole for 15 to 20 minutes or more, without ever cumming inside me. And by doing that, he never failed to give me what always seemed like a never-ending string of progressively stronger and stronger orgasms.
To this very day, I still haven't met another man--not even my Uncle Jerry--who could make me cum my ass off during sexual intercourse, as much as my own father did. Throughout this story so far, I'm sure my husband, Carl, has portrayed me as being a selfish, uncaring slut of a woman.
And at least he got the "slut" part right. What can I say?
There's only one thing that I love even more than I love my own husband. And that "one thing" is sex. I have come to the realization that I am literally addicted to sex. The first couple years of my marriage to Carl, I tried my best to be a good, faithful wife to him.
But the problem was that I knew, deep down inside, that I was trying to deny the fact that one man would never be enough to keep me sexually satisfied. They say variety is the spice of life.
And I need variety in my sex, just like I do in my food choices--that is, if I want to keep my sanity, over the long haul. So even though Carl is a decently-hung man, and has a very nice six-and-a-half-inch-long erect penis on him--and of course, he's awesome in the sack, too--it's always the same penis that I'm feeling inside my vagina.
And it's always being moved around in the same ways. Let's face it, we all have our little habits and quirks. And Carl is no exception. But that repetitive kind of lovemaking just doesn't seem to provide me--or my vagina--with the level of variety that we both constantly yearn for. However, I don't blame Carl for my shortcomings. This one's all on me. For many years, I felt extremely guilty, because I had begun cheating on my husband, while I knew that he was remaining faithful to me, all along.
And every time that I would let another man fuck me--and despite the fact that I would always end up orgasming like crazy, during the sex itself--I would inevitably end up thinking about Carl afterwards, and feeling very bad about what I was secretly doing to him, and to our marriage.
But the real truth of the matter was I couldn't help myself. I was an addict. And sex was my cocaine. And of course, just like any addict, I rationalized away my actions. I had convinced myself that the reason why I kept on secretly fucking other men on a regular basis, was to keep me sexually satisfied, so that I could maintain my own sanity; and in that way, hopefully keep my marriage intact. But I also knew that someday I was going to get caught by my husband.
And over about a decade and a half of me repeatedly cheating on my husband, that nearly happened to me--on two separate occasions, mind you--before I finally got scared enough to try to curb my addiction. I decided that there was much less chance of me getting caught by my husband, if I stopped fucking every Tom's hairy dick, and limited myself to having a single, secret, long-term affair with a man that I really liked.
I originally intended to search out and target a married man, who didn't want to leave his wife, but who was interested in dicking me on the side, just for a little bit of excitement.
I figured that that way, there'd be no strings attached, and no expectations that either of us would be leaving our spouses in the future. But then my Uncle Jerry had unexpectedly moved into town, and that solved my "problem" with one fell swoop.
I immediately started up a long-term, secret affair with my Uncle Jerry; and then alternated back and forth, between fucking Jerry and fucking Carl. And I initially thought that everything was perfect. Because I knew that my Uncle Jerry would never spill the beans to my husband about our secret sexual relationship. And even if he did, I didn't think that my husband would actually believe him, considering what an odd match-up we were, what with me being a niece "doing it" with her much-older uncle.
But unfortunately, I soon discovered that two different dicks (two different men) simply didn't provide quite enough variety to keep my little pussy and me feeling sexually satisfied. I still felt the need for a little more excitement.
But I didn't want to go back to searching out and having sex with a bunch of different guys. So I thought about it for a while, and eventually came up with a wonderful idea, as it turned out. What I did one day was to secretly stop taking my birth control pills altogether. And that really did the trick for me, excitement-wise. Because from that day forward, every time that I let a man fuck me, I knew that I was also taking a big chance on getting impregnated by him.
Especially when I was having sex with that man midway between my periods, at the point in my menstrual cycle when I was supposed to be ovulating. And since I was in my early 30's at the time, and was definitely aware of my biological clock ticking away, that was just fine with me.
A third child in the family didn't sound like a bad idea at all. Once I had secretly gotten off The Pill, I began getting my Uncle Jerry to fuck me at least four or five times, for every one time that I let my husband fuck me. And that was because, I was really hoping that my Uncle Jerry would be the one who got me pregnant, instead of my husband. That's also why I would go out of my way to try to only let my husband fuck me either during the first week, or during the last week, of my menstrual cycle; and then get my Uncle Jerry to fuck me multiple times during those crucial middle two weeks between my periods, when I was most likely to be ovulating and fertile.
Once in a while, I had even resorted to using the "Plan B One-Step" pill in order to make sure that Carl wouldn't get me pregnant, while I was actively trying to get pregnant with Uncle Jerry's baby. Looking back on everything, I'm not really sure why I was wanting Jerry to be the father of my next baby, instead of my own husband.
It might have been because I was subconsciously wanting the baby to inherit Jerry's awesome, fat "beer can" dick, if it turned out to be a baby boy. Or it might have been because my Uncle Jerry was the closest thing that I had left to my own dad, who had accidentally fathered my very first child, Jordan, with his pre-cum.
Who knows? I just know that, for some reason, I was hoping and praying that my Uncle Jerry would be the one who ended up getting me pregnant. But after about three months of secret, on-going pregnancy attempts on my part, I still hadn't managed to get knocked up. And that's when I finally decided to open up to my husband, and share one of my deepest, darkest secrets with him.
This took the form of me candidly confessing to Carl about the fact that I had always fantasized about what it would be like to get fucked by a black man.
At this point, I need to go off on a quick tangent, in order to give you some background information, before I continue on with my story. My best friend back in my early high school days, Rachel--who was a white girl, just like me--had a black boyfriend, named Jamal. But unlike me, Rachel was a natural blonde.
I always used to kid her about the fact that she barely had eyebrows. And Jamal was a very good looking, athletic black guy. He was one of the stars of our high school track team. Back in those days, Rachel had to keep her relationship with Jamal a secret, because of the extreme racism that was prevalent at the time. But she told me everything about Jamal, including how he had snuck over to her house late one night, and she had climbed out of her second-floor bedroom window, and then ever-so-carefully shimmied down the not-so-sturdy wall trellis that was mounted up against the side of her house, just to be with him.
And Rachel told me how she had let Jamal fuck the crap out of her, in her own back yard, while they were hiding behind the tool shed. She said that Jamal's erect penis was so large that he couldn't get all of it up inside her, and that the incredible feeling of getting her vagina totally stretch-out, and filled up like that, was something that she couldn't find the words to accurately describe for me.
Rachel went on to admit to me that she wasn't using any birth control that night, and that it was by choice. Her choice. She told me that Jamal had even offered to put a condom on his erect penis, right before he initially penetrated her, but that she had quickly ordered him to put the condom back into his wallet, telling him that she wanted their very first sexual intercourse to be nothing less than spectacular.
And Rachel told me that the extremely taboo nature of her little white pussy possibly getting impregnated by her black boyfriend's dick had ended up taking everything to a whole new level of sexual excitement. And just in case you're wondering, Rachel also told me at the time that Jamal did not get her pregnant that night.
But then Rachel unexpectedly left town a few weeks later, and I didn't see her again for several months. And at that point, I figured out exactly what had to have happened. And Rachel, herself, later confirmed my suspicions, once she got back into town. My best friend confessed to me that Jamal did in fact get her pregnant that night behind the tool shed in her back yard, and that it was the very first time that they ever "went all the way" together.
Rachel told me that she had been sent out of town by her father to get an abortion, so that she wouldn't bring shame to their family, by having a baby out of wedlock--something which would have been made even worse by the fact that Rachel would have ended up having a mulatto baby. But of course, Rachel had steadfastly refused to tell her dad who the father of her unborn baby was, which had only made him more furious with her.
And her dad was especially angry at whoever the "young man" was that had gotten her pregnant. And naturally, her father had assumed that it was an Anglo guy who had knocked up his only daughter.
And so for Jamal's safety, Rachel decided to fall on her own sword, and she abruptly broke off their relationship, without ever telling Jamal about the unplanned pregnancy that was the result of their very first--and last--sexual intercourse together. Needless to say, Jamal was devastated by Rachel's choice to suddenly break up with him, once she had gotten back from her extended trip out of town. Jamal naturally assumed that Rachel had found a new boyfriend. But the truth of the matter was that Rachel had secretly decided that she didn't want to have anything to do with dicks and sperm anymore--at least, not until she got her high school diploma.
And so one night during a sleep-over at my house, at around 3:00 AM, a naked Rachel unexpectedly climbed into bed with me and woke me up, so that she could take her pent-up horniness out on me. And that's how Rachel and I became much more than just friends. That's also how I found out about Rachel's desire to take a long break from having sex with boys. But the point I'm really trying to make here, is that Rachel's confession to me about her experience with Jamal had managed to put the seed into my mind, that had just grown and gotten bigger over the years, until it had finally blossomed into my number one fantasy.
In other words, that unique and taboo situation that I always naturally tended to fantasize about the most: I wanted to get fucked and knocked up by a black dude, just like my best friend, Rachel, did back in high school.
However, unlike Rachel--and for some weird reason that I still don't fully understand--ideally, I wanted the black man who fucked me and knocked me up to be a total stranger to me. And if that wasn't possible in the real world for some reason, I at least wanted that black man to be someone who I knew as a friend, or an acquaintance, but wasn't in love with at all.
The big turn-on for me was--and still is--the idea of me being a total slut, and letting a black man selfishly use my hopefully-fertile, totally-unprotected pussy to get his own rocks off, and unknowingly get me pregnant, in the process. And in the current version of my "black guy" fantasy, I have absolutely no intention of getting the pregnancy aborted either. Instead, I envision myself going ahead and having that black man's little bastard mulatto baby, so that I can raise it as part of my own family, right along side of my other two kids.
But of course, I didn't initially tell Carl about the "getting knocked up" part of my "black guy" fantasy. I figured that I would have to ease him into that one later. Okay. That's enough background info for now. It's time to get back to my story: Right before my "quick tangent" about Rachel, I had left off at the point in my story where I had decided to finally confess to my husband about the fact that I had always fantasized about what it would be like to get fucked by a black man.
So I asked Carl if it would be okay with him if I went out and found a black man that neither of us knew, and then let that black man have sex with me. And naturally, I went ahead and allowed Carl to mistakenly assume that I would be on The Pill, during the time that the black man was fucking me. And of course, I was expecting Carl to nix the whole idea. Or maybe get mad at me, for even bringing up such a preposterous idea, after all these years of my being married to Carl, and with him assuming all along that I had been faithful to him, just like he had been faithful to me.
But Carl had totally surprised me that day, by quickly saying to me, "Sure. But only if I can watch you two guys 'go at it.' Deal?" "Deal," I automatically replied, realizing that I was definitely the winner of this particular husband/wife "business negotiation." To my husband's way-of-thinking, everything--and I do mean "everything," no matter how intimate, or personal, or minute--always seemed to involve some type of business negotiation.
A pre-action verbal contract, if you will. And the word "deal" was Carl's favorite word, and one which I could easily hear come out of his mouth numerous times, during a single afternoon or evening spent with him. And I had grown to accept Carl's "uniqueness" over the years.
I had also grown to become a savvy negotiator. At any rate, that particular "fucking a black man" proposal of mine was how I discovered that my husband of many years was actually a cuckold at heart, and that he had been secretly hoping for a long time that I would finally ask another man--or even another woman--into our bedroom, so that Carl could watch us have sex together for a substantial period of time; and then much later, finally join in on "all the fun," to create an impromptu threesome.
And it didn't take long before Carl came up to me, saying that my "wish" was finally going to come true, and telling me about the hotel room that he had booked across town, for the sole purpose of us turning it into our own private den of iniquity.
The day before Carl and I left our house to temporarily move into our hotel room across town, I was so excited that I went over to my Uncle Jerry's apartment, and got him to fuck me, and to cum inside me twice. And then later that same day--without me taking a shower first, or douching--I got Carl to fuck me, and to cum inside me, right before we both went to bed. And that was the first time I had ever had both Jerry's sperm and Carl's sperm inside my pussy at the same time.
But of course, Carl still didn't know about Jerry yet. And so when Carl mentioned to me, right at the beginning of our intercourse that evening, that my pussy felt "a little strange" to him, I told him that I was feeling extremely excited (which was the truth), and that my pussy was simply reacting to my unusually high level of excitement.
A few hours after Carl and I went to sleep that night, I woke back up with my hand already down in my crotch, automatically masturbating myself. And I immediately began fantasizing about my upcoming rendezvous with a black stranger, who was definitely going to be fucking me, and releasing his semen inside my totally-unprotected, possibly-fertile vagina--and doing it all, right in front of my own husband.
All I can say is, at the time, I assumed that it just didn't get any more erotic or taboo than that. But I later found out I was wrong. It happened that second night in the hotel room, when that Hispanic scumbag, Rico, raped me and got me pregnant, right in front of my own husband. And then, without changing the doggie-style body position that Rico had originally put me in, I went on to let Henry and Carl take their turns gang-banging me too.
And as if that weren't erotic or taboo enough, after I had been gang-banged by all three men, I immediately fell head-over-heels for that good-looking jerk-wad, Rico.
And I actually let him make love to me, and fuck me two more times that same night, with my husband, Carl, witnessing it all. At the time, I had no idea that Rico would later sneak into the hotel room's bathroom while I was asleep, and rape my older sister, Cindy, at knife point. But if you've kept up with this story so far, then you already know that my sister and I--along with the help of my Uncle Jerry, and my husband, Carl--made Rico pay dearly for that 'indiscretion' on his part.
But I also later paid dearly for mine, when I had a miscarriage a few weeks later, and lost that half-Hispanic bastard child that had been growing in my womb, ever since that second night in the hotel room with Rico. It was nothing less than devastating! Even after my break-up with Rico, I was still badly wanting to go ahead and have his baby.
I had no idea how much longer I had, before I would finally reach menopause. I'm only 32, but I'm already experiencing hot flashes from time to time. And according to Dad, my mother had gone through "the change of life" at the unusually-young age of 35. So I wasn't sure if "early menopause" was a family trait that might be passed down to me. However, I didn't tell Carl about the miscarriage until a couple more weeks had passed by.
I still wasn't showing yet at the time of my miscarriage, and I figured that I could just keep pretending that I was still pregnant, until I could sort everything out in my head, and decide what my next "move" would be. All I knew was that I wanted to hopefully get knocked up again as soon as possible--but this time, by a black man, instead of a Hispanic guy.
And I had to figure out the best way to go about doing that. The one thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to get impregnated by a black guy.
But I didn't want to go do it in secret. Instead, I wanted my husband's blessing and participation. So one Friday evening, after Carl came home from work, I got him to come upstairs to our bedroom with me, under the guise of me wanting to show him a bedspread that I had just bought.
The new bedspread wasn't actually on the bed though. It was draped across the back of the chair, which was located near the foot of the bed, facing the bed. And the bed itself only had a fitted sheet on it, with a large bath towel spread carefully across it width-wise, about halfway between the head and the foot of the bed.
And Carl instantly knew what that large bath towel was for. "Why you naughty girl!" Carl said, "You wanna have sex, don't you?" I eagerly nodded my head, with a large smile on my face. "But where are the kids at?" Carl asked." Aren't they gonna be home soon?" "No. After they got home from school, I sent 'em to the movies tonight, so that we could have some alone time. I'm feelin' horny as hell right now," I truthfully admitted, as I turned on each of the night stand table lamps at either side of the bed, and then turned off the harsh overhead bedroom light fixture, so that the bedroom was left with a very comfortable level of warm, yellowish-tinged lighting.
I knew that Carl liked to see my body during sex. And besides, I was pretty much of an exhibitionist myself. And so I liked to show my naked body to him, just about as much as he liked to see it. So Carl and I rarely groped away at each other in the dark.
We both quickly got undressed. And once we were finally naked, and lying on top of the bed together, side-by-side, I began fondling Carl's sexy dick and his balls. And of course, he naturally reciprocated by reaching down into my crotch, and feeling out my bare pussy. "There's something I've been meaning to talk with you about, Sweetie," I said. "You see, I miscarried, and lost Rico's baby a few weeks ago, while you were at work.
I can't say that I'm really that sad about it. It's kind of a relief actually, considering everything that went down between Rico and me." "And you didn't call me at the time, to tell me about it?" Carl asked, obviously feeling very hurt. "No. I called Linda. You understand, don't you?
I needed to share my feelings with another woman, and I didn't want to worry you, Sweetie," I said. "Besides, I feel just fine now." "Damn it, Woman! Why are you always surprising me like this?" "I guess it's just who I am. And if you don't like that surprise, you're really not gonna like this one." "Go ahead.
Let it fly. I'm a big boy. I can take it." "Please don't get mad at me, but I didn't tell you the whole truth before about my "black guy" fantasy. The truth is I don't just fantasize about fucking a black man. That's just part of it. I also fantasize about getting knocked up by that black man, and having his mulatto baby.
In fact, to be honest with you, that's the part of the fantasy that really turns me on the most." "Why are you finally telling me all this now?" "Because I think I'm beginning to go into early menopause. And I really want to have another baby, before I can't anymore." "But don't you want to have my baby, instead of some other guy's baby?" "It's not that I don't want to have your baby," I told Carl, halfway lying to him.
"It's just that 'a baby' seems to be the one thing that you can't give me." "Oh, don't be silly." "Silly? I don't think I'm being silly at all, Carl. I went off birth control for over three months, remember? And you and Uncle Jerry both were fucking me throughout that entire time. And neither of you could manage to get me pregnant. "But then Rico comes along out of the blue, and gets me pregnant the very first time that he ever sticks his dick in my pussy.
So what I'm thinking is that I need some super-potent sperm from a young stud like Rico--except that this time, I want it to come from a young black stud, because I really want this child to be a mulatto baby." "Are you telling me that you want Henry to fuck you, and get you pregnant?" "No. That's not what I'm saying at all.
I don't want anything to do with Henry. 'Cuz his best friend is that son of a bitch, Rico. Isn't it?" "No. It's not. Henry doesn't hang around with Rico anymore.
Not since he found out about Rico raping Cindy in the bathroom that night." "But that still doesn't really matter. Because I've got my eye on a different black guy right now. Someone who I can easily have an on-going relationship with. Because he just happens to live right next door." "You're not talking about Dave, are you?" "No, Silly.
I'm talking about Dave's son, Terrell. Now there's one good-lookin' young black man, if you ask me. He's between semesters right now. And he's got the whole summer off from college, with nothing to do, and no girlfriend here in town." "Yeah. So what do you want me to do?" "Well, I already made a reservation for this weekend for the exact same room at the La Quinta that we had the last time. Isn't that awesome?" "Yeah. Go on." "Well, I want you to get Terrell alone somewhere, and ask him if he'd like to have intercourse with me.
Then show him a photo of me, and offer him some money if he'll come to up to your hotel room, and fuck your wife in front of you. Remember, Terrell has to be okay with the whole cuckold thing. So make sure you warn him up front about all that. We don't want any nasty surprises, do we?" "No, we most certainly do not. But if I show Terrell a nude photo of you spreading for me, then he'll probably jump at the chance to fuck you, without me even having to pay him one red cent.
I know I would, if I were in his shoes." "Yeah, but then he wouldn't feel obligated to follow all my ground rules." "Okay. So how much do you think I ought to offer him?" "How about $100?" "That's not that much money nowadays. How about $300?" Carl countered. "Deal. $300 it is, then." "Good. So what exactly are your 'ground rules'?" "There's only three of 'em: "Number One - Terrell's gotta fuck me at least twice during our sexual encounter.
"Number Two - Terrell's gotta cum deep inside me each time he fucks me, and he can't pull out until I tell him to. "And Number Three - I want Terrell to selfishly use my pussy to get his own rocks off, without making any effort at all to try to pleasure me. "Tell Terrell that those are my terms, and that he has to agree to them, or all bets are off." "Understood." "Above all, don't tell Terrell that I'm fertile, and not using any birth control. That'll be our little secret. Okay?" "Wow!
You've already thought this all out, haven't you? So how many nights did you book at the hotel?" "Two. Friday and Saturday. We'll have to check out on Sunday morning." "So do you want Terrell to fuck you both nights?" "Not so much.
That'd be pretty boring, wouldn't it? I mean, Terrell's either gonna get me pregnant on Friday night, or he's not. But if he doesn't, I'll still be fertile on Saturday, according to my period calendar, and I can give someone else a try." "How about if we spice things up a little bit? What would you think about me asking Dave to fuck you on Saturday?" "You mean, Dave?
Terrell's father, Dave?" "Yes. That's exactly who I mean. He's a widower, remember? And I'm pretty sure he hasn't gotten himself any pussy since his wife died a few years back.
I know he'd be very grateful, to say the least." "Wow! I've never fucked a man that old before. How old would you say he is? 50? 55? 60?" "Oh, heavens no. He's not that old. I seem to remember him telling me that he had just turned 54 a few months ago." "So do you really think he'd wanna fuck me in front of you?" "Are you kidding me?
As horny as he probably is right now, I wouldn't be surprised if he also wanted to fuck me in front of you!" Carl said sarcastically. And we both broke out laughing. "Point well-made," I announced, in between laughs. "Well, bring him on, then! Who knows?
Maybe he's the one who's destined to be the father of my next baby." And then another even-more-perverted thought crossed my mind, and I immediately verbalized it to Carl, "Tell ya what. I've got an even better idea. Why don't I do both of 'em on Saturday, one right after the other? In fact, Dave can go first, and then I'll give his son sloppy seconds.
What do ya think? You likie?" "Yeah, me likie a lot! But why don't we just go for broke here, and ask Dave and Terrell to join us for both nights at the hotel?
The more, the merrier, right? Just think of it as a father and son tag team. And we can give Terrell sloppy seconds on Friday, and Dave sloppy seconds on Saturday. Deal?" "Deal. But only if you offer Dave $300 to jack you off in front of me, whenever I tell him to." "Wow! You sure strike a hard bargain these days." "Well, I learned from the best.
You ought to be flattered." "But what if Dave refuses to jack me off in front of you?" "Then I guess he won't be gettin' any pussy from this girl after all. And you can go ahead and tell him that for me. I'm tryin' to make sure that you get taken care of here, Carl, what with your bisexual tendencies and all. And if Dave's not afraid to wrap his hand around your dick and jack you off in front of me, then I'm not afraid to have his old man's dick and sperm inside my pussy.
Fair enough?" "Okay. But you sure made my job a lot harder than it had to be." "Correction. I just made your dick a lot harder than it would have been, without a black man's hands wrapped around it," I spewed out sarcastically. "And it you want us to both take turns sucking that old man's dick, that'd be just fine with me too." "I don't know if Dave will actually go for that. Remember he'd be doing all that, right in front of his own son." "Well then, why don't you get together with Dave first--just the two of you--and have a little jack-off session with him, just to test the waters, so-to-speak?
Remember that we're talkin' about a widower who hasn't has sex with anyone in a long, long time. Just tell him that you'll let him fuck me, but only if he agrees to have a jack-off session with you first, and see what he says to that." "But I've never actually seduced a man into having sex with me before." "That's not what my Uncle Jerry told me." "Oh yeah?
Well, your Uncle Jerry is wrong. I didn't seduce him into having sex with me. I threatened him, by using those pictures of his boner that you had on your cell phone." "I'd rather not get into this right now, Carl!" "Why not?" "Oh, you'll find out soon enough. Believe me!" "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Sally?" "Don't worry about it, Carl.
There's nothin' you can do to change anything right now. Just enjoy yourself, okay?" "Whatever," Carl said sarcastically, rolling his eyes upward at me. "So then you know all about Uncle Jerry and me. Whoopee! But do you also know that he showed me videos of you letting him bone you up the ass with that fat--" "God damn it, Carl! Shut the fuck up already!
And let's have some sex, God damn it!" Carl abruptly yanked his hand away from my pussy, as if it were a hot iron, and said to me, "Okay. So how about a blowjob? You haven't given me one of those in so long, that I've almost forgotten what it feels like." "Oh, you poor little boy. Does Mommy need to suck you little wiener right now?" I asked in a forced, motherly tone-of-voice. "Yes, Mommy. Please.
I've been a very good boy," Carl said, using his bad, sing-songy imitation of a little boy's voice. "I know you have, Sweetie. And Mommy's very proud of you," I said, as I was re-positioning my body, by sliding down the mattress to place my mouth near his crotch. Carl was now lying on his back on top of the bed with his legs spread apart, waiting for me to start giving him a blowjob, when I warned him, "But don't you dare squirt that nasty, white, sticky stuff in Mommy's mouth, like you did the last time." "Don't worry, Mommy, I won't.
I promise," Carl swore back to me, still using his Leave it to Beaver "little boy" voice. "Good," I said, and then swooped down onto Carl's dick-head, and began giving him the "treat" that I had just promised him. While I was sucking away on the head of my husband's penis, I was slowly hand-pumping up and down on his shaft at the same time.
Within a couple of minutes, my "temporary little boy," Carl, begged me, "Mommy, please stop! If you don't, I'm probably gonna start squirtin' some of that white, sticky stuff in your mouth.
I'm sorry. I can't help it." I lifted my mouth up off of Carl's blood-engorged dick-head, and told him, "I know you can't, Sweetie. Thank you for warning Mommy." And then I pulled my hands away from Carl's bare genitals, and I dropped out of my decidedly-patronizing motherly voice, back into my own voice, as I got dead-serious once again, and said to my husband, "Carl, there's something else that I really need to tell you." I moved around on top of the bed to kneel between Carl's spread legs, so that I ended up sitting upright, with my butt firmly planted on my heels, and looking down at him.
He was still lying on his back, with his stiff dick jutting upward from his crotch. "Oh God! What else did you do?" Carl asked, this time using his normal adult voice. "I didn't do anything. But our daughter did. Jordan's been having sexual intercourse with her boyfriend, Tom, for just over a year now." "Why didn't you tell me about all this before now?" "Because I knew you'd get mad.
What father wouldn't?" I began explaining to Carl, finally starting to confess to him what I had been excitedly waiting to tell him all evening. "But you've gotta understand something. It's not like it used to be, back in our time. Jordan hit puberty when she was only 10 years old.
I know, because she came to me, scared to death about having her very first period. "And she was only about 11 1/2, when I accidentally walked in on her, and caught her masturbating.
And she wasn't just masturbating either. She was frigging herself with my large dildo. "And that day, she confessed to me that she had been kissing boys, and letting them stick their hands up under her blouse, and 'cop feels' of her bare breasts out in the schoolyard. And I'll bet you didn't even realize that your daughter actually had breasts back then." "Are you kidding me? I'm a man. Remember?" Carl piped up, as he pointed his index finger downward at his still-erect penis, to emphasize his point.
"Of course I noticed it when Jordan's little, pointed breast buds first began poking out at the front of her T-shirts, back when she was 10. And that was an obvious sign to me that she was already going through puberty.
I mean, I'm not a perv or anything, but a man can't help but notice that kind of stuff. Especially, when it's his own daughter." "What on earth are you talkin' about, Carl? Of course you're a perv! That's one of the things I really love about you.
You know, Jordan wasn't even 12 yet, and her breasts were already bigger than mine, for Christ's sake!" "Yeah, but that's not saying much," Carl sarcastically replied--which resulted in me slapping his shoulder fairly hard with the flattened-out palm of my right hand.
"Ow! What did you do that for?" my husband complained loudly, while using the palm of his own hand to massage his just-slapped shoulder for a little while. "You deserved it. That's why. Back when we first got married, you were always telling me how much you loved my 'little boobies.' But I've seen the way you go all gaga over Cindy's large breasts, you fucking liar!" "Hey, you're a fucking liar too!" "So what?
I'm one of the biggest fucking liars that you've ever met, Buster! But at least I not afraid to admit it. Besides, I've seen how turned-on you get, when I finally break down and tell you the truth." "I guess I really am a perv, after all." "See?
Doesn't it feel better to just go ahead and admit it? And by the way, it turns me on when you tell me the truth, too. "Anyways, back when Jordan was 12, she came up to me one day, and confessed to me that she had snuck out of the house the night before, and that she had finally 'given in,' and let one of her little boyfriends 'go all the way' with her, as a birthday present to him." "You mean, she gave this kid her virginity, as a birthday present?" Carl asked, with his mouth wide-open in obvious disbelief.
"Yes. I know it sounds crazy. But it's a whole different world out there right now. "At any rate, that day, Jordan told me that she was very scared about what she had done, and that she didn't want to get pregnant. So I went down to the pharmacy, and got her a morning-after pill. Then I took Jordan down to our family doctor, and got her on The Pill, as soon as I could. The last thing we needed was for our tween daughter to end up pregnant.
I mean, I can't really stop her from having sex, if that's what she wants to do. But I can stop her from ruining her life over it." "I agree with you 100%." "I didn't think it was possible, but Jordan's even more sex-starved than I was at her age. "Last Saturday, she confessed to me that the reason why she had come home so late on Friday afternoon, was because she was having sex out behind the school gym, after football practice had ended.
She told me that she was still in her cheer-leading uniform, and that she had simply bent over at the waist, and let four different guys on the school football team take turns 'doing her' from behind." "With her panties still on?" Carl asked, before dropping his jaw wide-open. "How the hell should I know? And even if she did have her panties on, it's not exactly a chastity belt, you know?
How many times have you fucked me while I still had my panties on?" "More times than I can remember." "See?
There ya go. But now I'm about to get to the real juicy part of Jordan's confession." "You mean, you haven't gotten to the 'real juicy part' yet?" "No. So brace yourself for this one.
'Cuz this really blew me away at the time. Believe it or not, Jordan's boyfriend, Tom, is the one who set up the whole secret 'gang bang Jordan behind the gym' thing with his football buddies. And he did it at her request." "And get this. Tom also just happened to be the only white guy there behind the gym that afternoon. The other three guys were all black friends of Tom's from the football team. "And Jordan told me that she had specifically asked Tom to invite those particular boys, because she had 'scoped out their crotches' in advance--I mean, let's face it, those tight football pants of theirs just don't leave much to the imagination--and it looked to Jordan like they probably had some 'pretty big cocks on them.' "Those were her exact words to me, Carl.
I kid you not. And you know that I never call a guy's penis a 'cock.' For me, it has always been a 'dick.' But apparently, for Jordan, it's a 'cock.' Just like it is for all those 'actresses' in those Internet porn videos that you and I have watched together.
"I asked Jordon where she had heard that word at. And at first, she told me that she had heard it being used by the kids at school. "But when I pressed her further on the issue, letting her know that I wasn't really buying her story, she finally admitted to me that she had heard that word being used all the time in the online porn videos that she had been secretly watching on her laptop, whenever she was masturbating. "And then she actually confessed to me that she especially liked to watch porn videos that either featured men jacking themselves off and squirting sperm all over the place, or white women getting fucked and fertilized by black men.
"So now you know. Jordan's far from the innocent young girl that we both thought she was. I was so shocked when she was telling me all this, that all I could do was say 'okay' to her, over and over again." "Wow!
That's a lot to process." "Tell me about it. How do you think I felt, when I caught our daughter frigging her pussy with my damn dildo that day? I was in shock!" "How do you think I feel, finding out from you now that our young daughter's idea of fun involves her behaving like a little whore, and getting herself gang banged doggie-style by a bunch of black, middle school football players out behind the school gym?
So what's next? Is Jordan gonna to try to take things to the next level, by the time she reaches high school, and get herself gang banged by the entire football team?" "Oh, I don't think she would actually do that." "I didn't think she would do what she's already done, for Christ's sake!" "Well, there's really nothing that either of us can do about it now, but to give Jordan whatever support and guidance she asks us for." "You're right.
I hate to admit it, but at this stage in the game, you're absolutely right," Carl agreed, and then let out a big sigh, before adding, "On a different subject, do you still have that cute Eeyore nightshirt that you wore in that video?" "Yes, Sweetie, I certainly do. But I never wear it. It's kind of got sentimental value, if you know what I mean?" "Oh, I definitely know what you mean," Carl said, nodding his head, with a devilish grin and a gleam in his eye.
"But could you please make an exception for me, and wear it with some plain white panties underneath, just like you did in that video. And could I also get you to put your hair up in pigtails, and have sex with me the same way that you did with--?" "Oh my God! Are you cumming?" I rudely interrupted in an overly-loud voice--intentionally drowning Carl out and shutting him up, before he could get to the "your father" part of at the very end of his sentence--as I looked down at his crotch, and noticed that a little bit of whitish colored fluid had oozed out of his piss-hole slit, and was slowly making its way down the bottom side of his dick-shaft.
And neither Carl nor I had touched his dick, ever since I had pulled my mouth up off of it earlier. "No. I mean, some sperm is obviously coming out, but I'm not really orgasming. I guess you just got me too excited, what with all that talk about Jordan." "Oh, my God! You've got the hots for your own daughter?" "Well, she's not really my daughter, now is she?
She's yours. Remember? You made that perfectly clear to me in the hotel room that night. And yes, I do find her attractive." "Attractive enough to fuck her?" "I could never do that!" Carl quickly countered, just a little bit too defensively, which automatically let me know that he was lying to me. "You wanna bet?" I challenged him. And that's when Carl's penis betrayed him, as it pulsated strongly.
It only pulsated one time. But it was enough to cause a much larger glob of thick, white sperm to ooze out of his piss-hole slit, and slowly work its way down the underside of his long shaft. "Oh, you're so full of shit sometimes, Carl!" I remarked, as I caught my first glimpse of the big sperm-glob that was emerging from his urethra.
"You're cumming right now, aren't you, you fucking pervert? You're having a spontaneous orgasm, just from fantasizing about humping Jordan's little pussy. Aren't you?" "No, I'm not! I mean, yes, there's sperm leaking out.
But it's not really an orgasm. Trust me. I know when I'm having an orgasm." "Of course, you do, Sweetie," I said patronizingly, as I reached down and used my fingertips to playfully rub some of the leaking sperm all over the tip of Carl's dick. "Please stop, Sally! That really tickles! You're gonna make me cum, if you don't stop right now!" "Don't be ridiculous, Carl! How can I make you cum, if you're already cumming?" I asked rhetorically, as I quickly wrapped my hand around Carl's dick-shaft, and started rapidly pumping up and down on it, jacking him off as best as I knew how.
"Tell ya what. Why don't you just close your eyes, and imagine that Jordan's the one who's jacking you off right now? That really turns you on, doesn't it, you fucking pervert?" "God damn it, Woman!
Shit! Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Carl said, with his eyes closed, as his orgasmic sensations were obviously overwhelming him.
Carl's dick almost immediately started pulsating rhythmically in my hand, and his sperm began squirting out all over the place, instead of just slowing oozing out of his penis, like it had been doing, up to this point. Within a few seconds there were multiple thin, long streamers of sperm spread all across his chest, stomach and lower abdomen.
"So are you having an orgasm now?" I asked sarcastically, not really expecting Carl to answer me. Once Carl's penile contractions were finally tapering off, he opened his eyes back up, and said to me, "Just look what you went and did. Now I can't fuck you!" "Why do you think I always want you to fuck me, Sweetie? This was a nice change-of-pace, if you ask me.
It's been a long time since I've watched you cum in my hand, like that," I said, while I was using my fingertips to playfully rub some of the freshly-ejaculated sperm, spreading it around on his stomach. "That was super-sexy! Especially, knowing that your were fantasizing about Jordan, while I was jacking you off." I got up out of bed, headed to our master bathroom, got a clean terry wash cloth, ran it under the warm water from the bathroom sink spigot, wrung it out, and then returned to the bedroom to clean Carl up.
I figured that it was the least I could do for him, considering the fact that I was the one who had caused his messy ejaculation. I was standing by Carl's side of the bed, and leaning over him to wipe up the last of the sperm streamers from the front of his torso, when he said to me, "Well, at least let me finger-fuck you, and make you cum." And I could tell from Carl's "offer" that he felt very guilty about his having already shot his wad, while I hadn't even experienced my very first orgasm of the night yet.
"If that's what you feel you need to do, then go right ahead. I'm certainly not gonna try to stop you, Carl," I said to him, placing the damp washcloth on top of the night stand, by the side of the bed.
"But what I'd really like to do, is put on 'a special show' for you, if you'll let me." "Sure. I'm game, if you are." "Good. Then what I wanna do is make myself cum, by using my large vibrating dildo, right in front of you.
And I wanna do it the same way that I do whenever you're not around, and I'm masturbating in private--except that I'm gonna tell you exactly what I'm doing, and why I'm doing it that way, as I'm doing it in front of you. I haven't ever done that for you before, have I?" I asked, as I slowly made my way over to my half of our shared dresser. I opened the bottom dresser drawer, reached underneath all my panties and bras, and pulled out my 9-inch-long, black-colored, penis-shaped dildo, that had been molded from an actual black man's erect penis, according to the XXX adult toy catalog that I had secretly ordered the dildo from, many years ago.
"No, you haven't," my husband verified for me. "I mean, of course you've masturbated in front of me. But you've never given me a 'show-and-tell' like that. Or used a dildo in front of me before. In fact, until you told me, I didn't realize that you even owned a dildo.
Of course, I knew about that little vibrator you keep in your purse, and that big one that we've use in bed sometimes, just to spice things up a little." "Well, now you know. And by the way, Carl, I own more than one dildo. But this one just happens to be my favorite dildo. Now go sit over there, and keep quiet," I said, pointing at the chair at the foot of our bed, "Just enjoy the show!" Carl made a beeline for the chair, and plopped his still-naked body down in it, and then just sat there, waiting for the "show" to start.
Meanwhile, I jumped up on top of the bed, flipped over onto my back, spread my legs apart, and playfully rubbed my pussy through the crotch of my panties, which was already slightly-dampened with my wetness. "Sometimes, I'll start out like this for a little while, and then pull my panty-crotch over to one side, as I get more excited," I explained to my naked husband in the chair. And then I proceeded to give Carl a quick demonstration of exactly what I had just described to him, by pulling my panty-crotch over to one side, and diddling my clit and my pussy crack in front of him.
"But most of the time, I'll usually just go ahead and take my panties all the way off, because it always feels sexy to me to be naked from the waist down--except for my socks, of course.
I almost always leave them on. Just like you always tend to do when you're makin' love to me. But sometimes, my socks will come off, all by themselves. Especially if I end up orgasming my ass off enough." At this point, I pulled my panties all the way off, and tossed them across the foot of the bed, directly into Carl's lap, before I sat up for a moment, to take off my blouse. "The funny thing is I almost never touch or play with my own 'tits and nips' when I'm masturbating," I said, realizing that this "show-and-tell" stuff was turning out to be much more fun than I originally thought it would be.
"But I still like to have my chest exposed anyway. And I really don't know why that is. I still haven't figured that one out yet." I flopped back down on my back, spread my legs apart, and resumed diddling my clit, as I explained to Carl, "I'll always start out by playing with my clit. That's my little 'warm-up button' that gets my engine running.
And then I'll slowing work my fingers down my crack. I'll play with my labia for a little while, and then I'll usually feel out my little piss-hole mound. And then finally I'll start working my fingertips up inside my fuck-hole." While I was explaining all these things to Carl, I continued to demonstrate each of them for him, too. "Oh God! I already feel my first orgasm comin' on.
But that's only because of how excited I already am, just from what we've been talkin' about--and also, from watchin' and feelin' you cum, right in front of me. "Normally, I really have to struggle pretty hard to get to that very first orgasm. It's just the way that we women are built, I guess. And it's always a very mild orgasm. But it does break the ice. And after that very first one, the orgasms will usually just keep on comin', quicker and quicker, as they get stronger and stronger, thank God.
"Unlike you guys, we women really like to take our time, whenever we masturbate. It usually takes me anywhere from 30 to 45 minutes, from start to finish.
And I normally don't start finger-fucking myself until after I've had my second--or even my third--orgasm. Instead, I'll just go back to the same series of steps that gave me my first orgasm, except that I'll move my fingers just a little bit faster this time, as I naturally put a little more energy into it, like this." I went right back to massaging my clit, and then working my way down my crack again, until I was inserting my fingers up into my vagina.
But this time, I was sinking my fingers deeper into my vagina, and also moving them around inside me, to feel out the walls of my vagina, and firmly rub the pads of my fingers back and forth against the roughly-textured G-spot area on the backside of my urethral tube.
"God, it feels so good to rub my G-spot! I can't even begin to describe the sensation for you. Oh shit yes! Here comes Orgasm Number 2!" I announced proudly, and then proceeded to experience a moderate-strength orgasm. As my orgasmic feelings subsided, I said to Carl, "Okay, I'm still not where I need to be, excitement-wise.
And so I'm gonna do it all again, and go for my third orgasm, before I start all that finger-fucking stuff. My pussy always lets me know when it's ready for a good fucking. And I still need to get just a little bit wetter than I am right now." Once again, I went right back to massaging my clit, and then working my way down my crack to my vagina. And then I finger-rubbed the hell out of my G-spot, before making myself cum for the third time.
And at the the start of that orgasm, I began squirting little spurts of transparent fluid all over the bed, between my spread-apart legs. "God,that felt fucking great! Did you like that? Don't answer me. Just nod, if you did." Carl nodded back at me, with a big smile on his face.
"Good!" I said, right before inserting my middle finger up deep into my vagina, pulling it right back out, and then sticking my finger into my mouth, to playfully lick it and suck on it, in front of Carl.
Then I stuck my middle finger back up deep inside my vagina, pulled it out again, and shot Carl the finger--a very wet one--as I was telling him, "Would you like to taste some of my cum?
Some guys think it's urine, because it squirts out of girl's piss-hole, just like urine does. But I can assure you, it's definitely not urine. It doesn't have a yellow tinge to it. And it doesn't taste, or smell, like piss at all. In fact, it's kind of got a sweet taste to it." Carl got up out of the chair, walked over to the bed, leaned over, and sucked on my middle finger, before saying to me, "You're right.
That's definitely not like any urine that I've ever tasted. It's not bitter, or tart, at all." "You see?
I told you so. Anyways, intermission's over with. Go back, and sit in your chair, and enjoy the rest of the show!" "Yes, Ma'am," Carl said, as he turned around, went back to the chair, and plopped himself down in it. "Well, I'm finally ready for the 'big guns' now," I said. "But I still need to stretch myself open, just a little more." I immediately inserted two of my fingers up into my vagina, and began slowly thrusting them in and out, intentionally finger-fucking myself. "You'll notice that I didn't go back to my clit this time," I explained to Carl.
"And that's 'cuz I really don't need to anymore. My clit'll take care of itself, from now on. Besides, my little clit-head is way too sensitive right now for me to actually touch it. Believe me, it'll get more than enough stimulation from my pussy lips pulling up and down on its little hood, while I'm fingering myself. "And by the way, that's a big mistake that a lot of guys make--including you, Buster. You guys tend to focus on messing with the starter motor, when you really ought to be driving the car down the road, if you get my drift." "I'm sorry.
But I'm kind of infatuated with your little clit. I tend to view as being your little dick." "But it's not a dick, Carl. It's a clit. And you guys need to stop treating it like it's a little dick. 'Cuz it's not! Sure, it's got a head and a shaft, just like your dick does. But that's where the similarity ends.
Because my clit is missing a very important part: a urethral tube running along the bottom of it. "And that's why I have a G-spot inside my vagina.
That's my real 'cum button.' Not my clit. And that's what makes us women want to stick things up inside our vajayjays. Things like this," I said, grabbing hold of the large black dildo, and waiving it around in the air to make my point. "Would you like to hold it, before I stick it in me, and start frigging myself with it, in front of you?" "Sure," Carl said, as he got up out of the chair, and took the large dildo in his hands.
"Wow! It's heavier than I thought it would be." "You can say that again. Let me tell just how 'heavy' it is. Not only does it have two, C-cell batteries up inside of it, but that's the same vibrating dildo that I caught Jordan using on herself that day.
"And I was in total shock when I saw what Jordan's pussy looked like. It was super-hairy. Just like mine used to be, back when I was her age. And I couldn't stop staring at it. And I'm sure that kind of freaked Jordan out a little bit. I mean, what young girl out there wants her own mother to be staring at her bare pussy?" "Who's calling who a perv?
Looks to me like you're the perv right now!" "You're damn right I am! Now give me that fucking dildo, and I'll show you just how much of a pervert I really am!" Carl handed me the dildo, and I shoved up deep into my baby-making hole, and began to slowly and steadily thrust it all the way in, and then pull it almost all the way back out of my vaginal opening, before sinking it all the way back in again.
"Carl, there's something I've never told you before." "Oh gee. What a surprise!" Carl quipped back sarcastically. "My own mother kept her pussy clean-shaven, just like I do.
And do you wanna know how I know that?" Carl didn't answer me. He just looked at me with that "Well, go ahead, aren't you gonna tell me?" look on his face. "Because my mother's the one who taught me how to shave my pussy. If fact, she's the one who shaved it for me, that very first time." "Oh, my God! How on earth did that happen? I mean, you didn't just walk up to your mother one day, and ask her to shave your pussy, did you?" "No. Of course not.
Don't be ridiculous! I'd never do something like that to my own mother. "But one day, while Dad was away from the house, I went to my mother and told her that the girls at school were being mean to me. This happened several months after I had reached puberty, and my classmates were always making fun of my super-hairy pubic area, whenever we took showers together, after P.E. class was over with. And that's what I told my mother that day." "Oh, come on! You couldn't have been that hairy." "Are you kiddin' me.
I was so hairy down there that I even had a treasure trail!" "A what?" "You know? A treasure trail. You've never heard that term before?" "No. As a matter of fact, I haven't." "Well, my 'treasure trail' was a long, vertical line of dark-brown pubic hair that ran from my crotch area all the way up to my naval." "Wow!
That's weird!" "Hey, tell me about it! And the girls at school thought it was weird too. That's part of the reason why they were always making so much fun of me in the showers. I was the only girl in that P.E. class who had a treasure trail. And to make matters even worse, none of the other girls had a super-thick patch of pubic hair like mine.
"But that day, when I told my mother about those mean girls at school, she said to me, 'Shame on them! You can't help it that your father is of Mediterranean descent, and that you're destined to be a hairy woman because of it. But that doesn't mean that you can't do something about it.' "Then Mom led me to the bathroom, and opened up one of the cabinet drawers, and pulled out a double-bladed safety razor. And she said to me, 'It's obvious that you already shave your underarms and your legs.
So why don't you start shaving your lady-parts too? I do.' "I was shocked by my mother's confession. She was a very modest woman. And she had always gone out of her way to make sure that I never saw her naked. So the last thing I would have imagined is that Mom kept her 'lady-parts' shaved. "Mom closed and locked the bathroom door, and she turned back around to face me.
At that point we were both standing up, face-to-face, in the bathroom. "And that's when Mom did something that totally blew me away. She pulled down her pants and panties, and proudly showed me her hairless pussy. The same pussy that I had come out of, back when I was born. "I was in awe! Part of me just wanted to reach out and touch it with my hand, just to make sure it was real. "Then, as if she knew what I was thinking, Mom asked me, 'Would you like to feel how smooth it is? Well, go right head.
You've got my permission.' "My hand shot out towards her crotch. And before I knew it, I was caressing my own mother's pussy with my hand.
And she wasn't doing anything to try to stop me. In fact, she spread her legs apart a little more, and shifted her pelvis forward. And I could tell that she was doing that to give me full access to her entire pussy mound. "And without even thinking about it, my fingertips slid up into her slit.
And I began feeling out her labia, and diddling her clit. God, it was huge, compared to mine! And Mom just stood there patiently for several minutes, letting me explore her external 'lady-parts' as much as I wanted. "Then she finally told me, 'Okay, now it's your turn to show me your lady-parts, and let me see why the girls at school are making so much fun of you.' "Of course, I hesitated.
And Mom said, 'Oh, so it's like that, is it?
You don't want to take you hands off my pussy, huh?' "I turned all sorts of shades of red. I was so embarrassed by my mother's comment. I had never heard her use the 'P' word before. And I didn't realize just how strong my lesbian tendencies were. But Mom was right. I didn't want to pull my hand away from her smooth, shaved pussy, and that awesome clitoris of hers. "'Now, go ahead, Sally,' Mom says to me, as she backs away from me, turns around to reach into the medicine cabinet, and grabs a pair of small scissors.
'Take your pants off, and let me help you get rid of your problem. Those mean girls at school will never make fun of you again, after I'm through.
I promise you that!' "At that point, I knew exactly what Mom was gonna do. She was gonna shave my pussy for me, that very first time. "And I was more than happy to let her do it, too. Because I was afraid that I might accidentally cut one of these long-ass pussy lips of mine, with that damn razor," I said to Carl, letting go of the dildo just long enough to tug on my long inner labia for emphasis. "Or God forbid, maybe even cut my own clit, since I didn't really know what I was doing back then." As I resumed my slow and methodical dildo-frigging in front of Carl, I continued on with my story, "While l was getting naked from the waist down, Mom was too.
And I just had the feeling that something was up. But I wasn't really sure. Because Mom always liked to play things close to the vest. Let's just say she was damned good at poker. "At any rate, my mom lifted the toilet seat cover, and she had me sit down on the toilet seat with my legs spread apart. Then she squatted down, right in front of me, with her face just about level with my pussy.
And she began trimming back my thick patch of pubes with the small scissors, as she was letting all the cuttings fall into the toilet bowl between my legs. "Then she took some soap, and lathered up my whole pubic area, before she finally began the slow and tedious process of shaving me bare. And yes, that included my treasure trail. "And while she was doing that, Mom explained to me that this would keep the urine from collecting and drying in my pubic hair, and keep my pussy from getting so stinky.
She also told me that most men preferred the look and feel of a shaved pussy, and that I would eventually get used it, as well. But she went on to warn me that, at first, my pussy might be a little tender and irritated for a few days, after getting shaved.
"Afterwards, Mom used a warm, wet washcloth to wipe off all the leftover hair and shaving cream. And then she carefully patted my pussy mound dry with a bath towel." "She left the towel wadded up on the bathroom counter top, and she reached back down into my crotch, and rubbed the palm of her hand back and forth against my mound, as she commented on how sexy my pussy felt, now that it was shaved smooth.
"At that moment, I finally realized that my own mother was 'coming on' to me. And when I felt her fingers sliding up into my crack, I knew that things had already gone way too far for me to turn back. I knew that Mom was definitely wanting to have sex with me.
And I also knew that I wasn't gonna do anything to try to stop her, either. I mean, what could I do? My mother already had her fingers on my erect clitoris. "But then Mom surprised me, when she suddenly pulled her hand away from my pussy, and stood up in front of me, with her legs spread apart, so that her pussy was right in front of my face.
It was so close, that the smell of her crack was wafting right up my nostrils. "And I was ever more surprised and stunned, when Mom reached down to her 'lady-parts' with both hands, and then pulled her pussy crack wide-open with her fingertips, and held it that way, as she said to me, 'Well, aren't you gonna explore me some more? Sure, you've already paid plenty of attention to my clit, and my pussy lips.
But there's a wet birth canal down there that's just begging to have your fingers up inside it. What do ya say?' "Well, I didn't say anything to her. I just reached across, and stuck my fingers up into my own mother's vagina. And naturally, one thing led to another. "And before I knew it, I found myself on top of Mom and Dad's bed, lying on my back with my legs splayed wide-open, and with Mom on top of me, tribbing her ass off, like a maniac.
It all seemed surreal to me at the time, what with Mom grinding her bare pussy down against mine, as she just kept on orgasming over and over again--and causing me to orgasm, right along with her. "And that's how my mother's and my ongoing, secret, bisexual relationship began. And you're the first person I ever told about this." "Good Lord! So then are you trying to tell me that you were having an ongoing, secret sexual relationship with both of your parents?" "No.
I never did tell Dad about me and Mom, and how close we actually were. I'm pretty sure he would've flipped out, if he ever found out that his wife and his daughter used to 'pleasure each other' on a regular basis. "But now that you know about me and Mom, maybe you'll understand why I have the long-standing, lesbian-style relationship that I do with Linda. And I have my own mother to thank for the fact that women's pussies turn me on almost as much as men's dicks do.
"The truth is that, once my mother and I had broken the ice that day in the bathroom, we had a hard time keeping our hands off of each other's pussies. And we were always looking for opportunities when we could secretly cop feels of one another.
And sometimes we even did that with my father in the same room with us. And he never did realize what was really taking place." Throughout my entire confession to Carl about my mother and me, I had kept on slowly 'doing myself' with that large, black dildo of mine.
I was trying to keep myself excited enough to stay wet, but not get too excited. But once I had finished telling Carl my story, I shifted into "orgasm mode," as I intentionally sped up my dildo-thrusting, until I was energetically frigging the crap out of my pussy with that large, fake dick. "Jesus shit!" was all Carl could say while he was watching me, with his eyes bugged out in disbelief, while I was steadily and repeatedly slamming that dildo "all the way home," so that the two fake balls attached to the base of the dildo were slapping up against my ass, and making a loud, high-pitched, smacking sound on each inward thrust.
"Does this turn you on, mother fucker?" I asked Carl, as the sexy, wet, rhythmic, slapping sound kept reverberating off the walls of our bedroom. "Or would you rather watch me get fucked by a real black man's penis?" "Is this how you want Dave and Terrell to fuck you at the hotel room?" Carl asked.
"Oh shit yes!" I panted, barely able to get the phrase out. And then I continued quickly blurting out short phrases, between my heavy breathing, "And I want them to cum deep inside me!
Right next to my womb! And make a baby with me! Right in front of you!" "Let me grab that God damn dildo, and make you cum right now!" Carl insisted. "Go right ahead! Be my guest! Besides.my arm's gettin'.really tired," I said, panting even harder and faster. Carl grabbed hold of the bottom end of the large, black dildo. He turned on the built-in vibrator, and then relentlessly plunged the dildo into my baby-making hole, over and over again, while he was saying various things to me, like, "Is this what you want, you fucking whore?
You want this big, black dick in your pussy?" And I kept nodding my head in response to his questions, and humming back my quick "uh-huhs," as I felt what I knew would be my final orgasm coming on. And I could tell it was going to be a real lulu, what with my husband frigging my pussy with that big, black dildo, while he talked about black men fucking me. And Carl had that damn vibrator turned on! I almost never turn on the built-in vibrator, whenever I use that dildo to masturbate in private, because frankly, it's just a little too powerful for my liking.
It always makes my whole pussy ache afterwards. But that didn't matter. My husband was bound and determined to make me cum. And he was going to use everything at his disposal to do it. So I just gritted my teeth, and endured the discomfort, while I orgasmed my ass off, and "peed" all over the bed--and all over Carl's dildo-wielding hand.
Afterwards, Carl climbed on top of the bed to lie down beside me, and hold me in his arms as he complimented me, telling me that I had just "put on a great show for him." We both lay there quietly for several minutes.
And then I finally broke the silence, by asking Carl, "So how would you like to fuck Jordan sometime?" "Are you kidding me?" "Yes, of course, I'm kidding you, Carl. Don't get your panties in a wad." "Hey don't get on me, just 'cuz I like to wear your panties once in a while." "You really do that?
I mean, you're not kidding me, right?" I asked. "Yeah, I really do that. But only when you're not around. I like to jack off with 'em on. That panty material always feels so good, rubbing up against my dick-head. And then, as I get more excited, I'll take your panties off, flip 'em inside out, and lay them on a flat surface somewhere, just so I can squirt my sperm all over the lining of the crotch-panel.
You know, us guys like to do that kind of shit." "God, you're such a pervert!" I remarked. "If you think that's perverted, get a load of this. After I finish sperming all over the inside of the panty-crotch, I'll usually put the soiled panties back in your dresser drawer, hoping that you'll go ahead and wear 'em." "You do know that Jordan and I share underwear sometimes, right? I mean, like whenever hers are in the wash, and mine aren't." "Oh shit!" "'Oh shit' is right.
But don't worry, Carl. Jordan's on The Pill," I said, before taking a very deep breath, and then finally adding, "So do you wanna fuck Jordan?
And this time, I'm being dead serious." Carl gave me the weirdest look, with his mouth wide-open, and his eyes glaring arrows at mine. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. Jordan's the one who wanted me to ask you that. She's the one who's been 'scoping out your crotch' lately. She told me so herself. I should think you'd be flattered." "Good lord! What did you tell her?" "I told her I'd pass her message on to you--which I just did." "Wow!
So what would you do, if you were in my shoes?" "I really don't know what I'd do, Carl.
I don't have a dick. Remember?" "How can you be so cavalier about all this? I mean, it doesn't even seem to phase you. The fact that your own daughter wants to have sex with your husband." "Of course not. For me, sex has always been about family. You know that. Throughout my entire life, my most important sexual relationships have always been with other family members, like my mom, and my cousin." "And your older sister," Carl chimed in.
"Yes. We can't forget her now, can we?" I said almost at a whisper, with a devilish gleam in my eye. "No, we can't," Carl agreed, whispering back to me, as a silly look quickly came over his face. And with a Cheshire Cat grin, Carl raised his cupped hands and spread-out fingers up to each side of his own chest, and sung out one word very loudly, as he overly-exaggerated each syllable of the word for comedic emphasis, "Ar.thri.tis!" And we both broke out laughing for quite a while, before we both quieted back down, and naturally went right back to being the serious versions of ourselves.
"Your cousin, huh?" Carl asked. "Yeah. My cousin, Sam," I said to him. Carl gave me this strange look, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. "Okay, it's not what you're thinking, Carl. Sam was a girl. Her full name was Samantha.
And she wasn't just my cousin. She was also one of my best friends at the time. And so we used to have sleepovers at each other's houses quite often. And it didn't take me long to figure out that Sam liked to sleep in the same bed with me. And that's how we became kissing cousins, literally." "My God! You are just full of surprises tonight!" "Oh, yeah?
Well, here's another one for you. You know, I wasn't originally gonna tell you about this," I confessed to Carl, "But that day when I caught Jordan using my dildo, I took her into the bathroom with me, and I shaved her pussy, just like my own mother did to me." "But all you did was shave her pussy, right?" "Well, that's what I started out doing.
But that day in the bathroom with Jordan, one thing quickly led to another. And before I knew it, it was too late for us to turn back. It felt like a Pandora's Box had been opened. But then that feeling's really nothing new to me." "So then you and Jordan--?" "Had sex?
Yep. We sure did," I abruptly jumped in, cutting Carl off mid-sentence. "Right there, in the bathroom. And believe it or not, I didn't seduce Jordan. She's the one who 'came on' to me." "Yeah, right!
And next, you're gonna offer to sell me an ocean-front condo in Nevada." "No. Really. It's the honest-to-God truth. I swear it! Why don't you believe me?" "Because you're a pathological liar. That's why." "But I'm really not a pathological liar. Because--despite what you might think--I don't always lie to you, Carl. I only do it when I feel that I have to. That I don't have any other choice, but to protect myself, or someone else I care about. And it always makes me feel better when I finally 'come clean' with you, and tell you the real truth about something that I've been hiding from you.
For instance, the real reason why Jordan has been 'scoping out your crotch' lately is that she noticed that you've been scoping out hers." "I didn't realize that it was that obvious." "What on earth are you talking about? Believe me, it's been obvious. Even to me! A girl always knows it when a guy's been staring at her 'hoo-ha' all the time.
That's called 'being female.' And haven't you noticed that Jordan's been going out of her way lately to let you see her panties and her camel toe? Because I sure have." "Wow! Come to think of it, you're absolutely right," Carl said, acting as if he were surprised by my sudden revelation about Jordan's on-going, intentional camel toe exposures, when I already knew that it was all just an act that he was putting on for my benefit.
And then, without missing a beat, Carl went on to admit to me, "Jordan has been hanging out in the family room with me a lot in the evenings, and flashing her crotch at me from underneath her night shirt, while we're watching TV together." "Yeah.
Wow!" I said as sarcastically as I could, making sure to roll my eyes at Carl and shake my head from side-to-side. "And be honest with me, Carl. Jordan's doin' a lot more than just 'flashing' you, isn't she?
I mean, she's sitting across from you on the couch, with both her feet up on top of the couch; and she's watching the TV, while she's letting you watch her crotch, isn't she?" I paused for a moment to wait for Carl's response. But when he didn't answer me, I prodded him, "Well, isn't she?" And my husband, Carl, had that "kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar" look on his face for a few moments, before he finally nodded his head slowly.
It was a definite admission of guilt on his part. "Not only that," I added, circling for the final kill, "But Jordan didn't actually ask me to ask you to fuck her. That was my interpretation of what she told me.
But what she really said to me was--and I quote--'Mom, the next time we have sex together, would it be okay with you if Dad joined us?'" "So what did you tell her?" "I told her that, underneath your super-conservative businessman exterior, you're one horny son of a bitch in bed, with virtually no inhibitions; and that it was gonna be a piece of cake talking you into having a threesome with Jordan and me.
Was I right?" Carl didn't even attempt to answer my question. What he said to me instead was, "Do you know that I actually saw the crotch of Jordan's panties get wet, while I was staring at her camel toe the other night? And she never got up off that sofa to go change her panties, either.
I finally had to get up and leave the room, just to keep her from seeing that she had given me a full-blown hard-on." "I'll take that as a 'yes' to the threesome offer then." "You can take it however you want to, Sally. But I've got another hard-on right now, just from all this talk about Jordan, and panties, and camel toes.
So do you wanna fuck?" "Why, sir, I thought you'd never ask," I answered in my best Southern Belle accent, and then spread my legs apart to let my husband mount me in a missionary intercourse position for the umpteenth time in my life.
And as Carl was eagerly sinking his stiff, blood-engorged sex-finger into my sopping-wet baby-making canal, I switched right back to my regular voice, and I called out loudly enough to be heard across the bedroom, "Oh, Jordan. You can come out of that closet now. I told you he'd say 'yes.'" "Ha, ha. That's a good one, Sally! You don't really expect me to fall for that one, do ya?" Carl said, looking me right in the eye, as he began slowly-but-steadily thrusting away at my already-sore and abused fuck-hole.
And while Carl was humping away at me like that, I began giggling and laughing uncontrollably. Because I knew that the coups de grâce was just around the corner--or in my case, standing right at the edge of our bed. "Oh, so you think this is funny, huh?
Well, I'll show you 'funny,' Bitch!" Carl screamed out, right in my face. And then he suddenly sped up his pelvic-thrusting to energetically slam his dick all the way home on each inward thrust, similar to what I had been doing to myself, when I was frigging myself in front of him earlier with my black dildo. But the big difference was that Carl had lost his temper, and had gotten pissed off at me, most likely assuming that I was laughing at him for the gentle and methodical way that he was fucking me.
And so now, he was obviously trying to get back at me, by intentionally using the weight of his lower body to aggressively and repeatedly slam his pubic bone up against mine, in an attempt to bruise my pubic bone, and make the intercourse even more painful and uncomfortable for me than it already was.
"Damn, Mom, you were right!" Jordan's voice abruptly announced. "Dad does have a nice, big cock on him!
I'm sure glad I decided not to go to the movies with Jake tonight. Hiding in the closet, and spying on you guys was definitely a lot more fun! Thanks for inviting me." "You're welcome, Sweetie. I knew you'd enjoy yourself," I replied, barely able to get the words out, because I was laughing so hard that I was literally in tears, as I felt Carl starting to ejaculate inside me, despite the fact that his overly-energetic thrusting had come to a dead halt, and he had his neck craned all the way around to the left, looking right at Jordan, while at the same time, he was outwardly trying his best to behave as if his pulsating dick wasn't busy fertilizing her mother's womb.
Meanwhile, Jordan was just standing there at the side of our bed, clad only in a nightshirt, and witnessing all the "weirdness" that was taking place, right in front of her eyes. And for the record, Jordan wasn't just wearing any old nightshirt, either.
The nightshirt she had on just happened to be my infamous Eeyore nightshirt, that I had given to her earlier that afternoon, not knowing that Carl would end up mentioning it during tonight's "festivities." Talk about coincidence. "By the way, Dad," Jordan piped up, trying to be heard over my boisterous laughter.
"Like, what exactly did you mean when you told Mom that I'm not really your daughter?" "Yeah, Dad. What did you mean by that?" I echoed back at Carl a few seconds later, once I had regained my composure enough to finally stop laughing. And during the next several seconds of the most awkward silence that I had ever experienced, I could make out the faint sounds of what sounded to me like water slowly and sporadically dripping onto the bedroom floor, close to the side of the bed.
I looked down, over the edge of the bed, and I immediately noticed a small wet puddle that had already formed on the carpet, in between Jordan's slightly-spread-apart bare feet, and I thought to myself, That's my girl! * * * * *