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In the middle of the night she crept away from her son’s bedroom and went back to her own. In the morning she got up and went off to work while he was still in bed. When she came back in the evening he was out. His bedroom was as it had been the night before – the girly mags on the floor, the stale bed in a mess, even the crumpled handkie still on the bedside table.
Things must not go back to how they were. Rapidly she gathered up the mags, took them out, stuffed them in a black rubbish bag, took them down to the bin. She ripped the sheets off the bed, made it up tidily with new. Opened the window to let some air in.
Then she had her shower, got changed, had something to eat – heaven knows where he was, but she would get him supper if he wanted it when he came in. She wished he was there – they would have to confront what had happened, and she wanted to get it over with. Though she had no idea what to say, except that she must somehow reassure him. Till then, there was nothing for it but to settle to her chair and a book, which she only half-read.
She heard him come in and go to his room. Then he burst in on her.
“You’ve thrown everything away”, he said. Like a child cross and almost tearful at the removal of his toys. But he was not a child, damn him.
“You can’t go back to how you were,” she said. “I’m sorry, neither of us meant it to happen, but it did. I dare say that wasn’t the right way to deal with it, but it happened. I’ll do anything. Why don’t we have a party for you, or you talk to your friends, or I’ll try to help you get a date – I can put out feelers, I’ve lots of friends. I don’t know – anything. Only please don’t slip back.”
He stood and stared at her, and she rose and walked towards him, moved by sympathy for him, wanting him to see how she cared
Suddenly he’d grabbed her. His hands were mauling her bottom. His thigh was pressed into her groin. He was shoving her backwards. She tripped, and they fell on the carpet. He was shoving with his knee between her thighs. My god, he was trying to rape her. She would get hurt and he would never forgive himself. She shoved her hand down, grabbed his nuts through his trousers and squeezed hard. With her other hand she slapped his face.
“Stop it,” she said, “Stop that. I’ll do it, you can have it if you must, but not this way.”
He went limp on her, slid off her and – burst into tears. She cradled his head to her . “It’s all right,” she said, “I understand. You’re so pent up. So you explode. There now. I’ll give you what you want. Better than living as you were. I’ll try to help you through.”
He was sobbing more quietly. They were strangely, unexpectedly together. She must move things on but not break the spell. She lay on one side, raising one knee, and took his hand and put it softly on her crotch.
“There it is,” she said, “Feel it. You can have it. Get used to it. It’s all right.”
He rubbed her timidly. She was wearing plain black satin pants – he could not see them from where he was, but she liked the idea that they would feel sort of shiny.
She held his head. She was touched by his need. And surprised at his power when he had launched himself on her – he was potentially a real bull, not the familiar wimp at all. He just needed to learn how to feed all that smothered energy into his life. And – she liked the feel of her own power. She had him – she could do what she wanted with him.
She stroked his cock gently through his trousers. It swelled to half erect. She pulled down his zip, fumbled around in his pants, got his cock out. Ah, the feel of it again, warm and fat and swollen. She loved it. She had pretty much forgotten how much she loved it – raw bare cock, swelling under her fingers.
She started to clamber to her feet, keeping a firm grip on his cock. He rose behind her. Firmly, she led him into her bedroom. Like a bull with a ring through its nose.
She let go of him by her double bed, threw the duvet away on the floor, hurled herself flat in the middle of the bed. She dragged couple of pillows from behind her, pulled up her skirt, and tucked them under her bottom. Then she drew up her knees to near her shoulders and parted them. She was displayed to him, bottom raised, thighs open, black pants tight over her cunt. She tucked the sides of the pants down the sides, so that the shape of her cunt was on show for him.
“Take your shoes and trousers and pants off,” she said. Standing by the bed, he did so. “Tuck your shirt into your vest.”
He did that too. She liked that – his bare thighs, his red cock sticking up, and then his shirt and vest still on. A bit absurd, and also sexy – she liked it, him doing as he was told, so desperate for it.
“Kneel on the bed and look at me,” she said.
He knelt in front of her, looking down at her spread thighs esenyurt anal yapan escort and her crotch. She started to stroke the pouch of her pants softly.
“Look,” she said, “When I push my fingers down the sides, how fat my lips are. They’re the lips of my cunt. Look. Now stroke yourself.”
He started to stroke his cock, and it responded, got fully erect. She loved it, that straining head, full of blood, as if aching to shoot its sperm into her. However, she was in no hurry, and if he was that was too bad. Some people thought sex was just about having it, about orgasms, but for her sex was about sexual excitement, and she liked that intense and prolonged. Orgasm was lovely, but loveliest when she had got really high. He would learn the same. This was not one of his quick wanks. And looking at him staring with such absorption at her crotch while she stroked the black satin, she felt he was really of the same mind, would soon learn.
“You feel it,” she said. He put a hand over it. “Hold it,” she said, “It’s not just a hole. Hold it, that’s the lips, lovely and fat.”
He clasped her cunt, felt down the sides of it, squeezed it from the bast. Then – and here she began to realise how much they might have in common – rather than pulling her pants aside or anything obvious, he started to scratch the black satin with his nails, scoring them down over her lips till they swelled and thrilled.
“Now watch how to open it and get it ready,” she said.
She pulled at one side of her pants to bare her cunt. He was totally concentrated on it.
“Look,” she said, “I slip my finger in at the bottom, where the lips open most easily. Then I run it round and round – look – my vagina and just outside it because that’s where the juice is and if I press with my finger and I’m excited then the juice flows and I get nice and wet for you to fuck me. But I have to be excited. It’s no good just trying to do it physically. And I’m excited now because I can see you are excited and that turns me on, you staring at my cunt, and stroking your cock and the way it’s trembling and straining, that’s what excites me, your response.
“See, when the juice is coming and my finger is good and wet, I slide it up between the lips like this, and open them up, and I go right up to my clit, can you see it, and I rub that side to side a little, but gently, not shoving away at it as if I was stuffing a pipe the way some men do. That’s how I do it when I masturbate. Watch me masturbating, and you masturbate with me.”
She ran flicked her finger lightly over her clit, ran it slowly down and around and into her vagina, took it out and rubbed her clit again. He was rapt, stroking his stiff cock almost absent mindedly while he looked at her.
“Now – take my pants off”.
Breathing seriously, he took hold of the top of her pants under her bottom, which she raised, and drew them slowly down over her bottom then her legs, which she held high in the air so he could get them off and chuck them aside.
He stared. She was open and all on show. She loved his fascination. A woman on the verge of middle age – her bum and her cunt might not be everyone’s ideal. But he was transfixed.
“Touch me like I touched myself,” she said.
He made a creditable shot at it – tentative, but stroking around the entrance, getting the juice to flow, then just touching her clit. She wanted to drive him further.
“Do you know what’s nice when you’re finger is good and wet? Mix feeling my cunt with feeling around my bottom. But only when your finger’s wet – otherwise it rasps.
He duly got it wet, put it on her anus and wriggled around, thrusting it in a bit. She felt so exposed to him – her anus, her most private part, her little hole, and him feeling around it, pushing into it, staring at it with every indication of pleasure.
“Now slip your cock up the lips of my cunt,” she said, “So that it rubs my clit.”
Again, he did well for a novice. He glided between her lips, now wet to receive him. Her clit loved the soft bump of his cock when he hit it. She looked at the head and eye of his cock piecing the coiled black hair of her mound.
“Now,” she said, “I want what I didn’t get the first time. I want your spunk inside me.”
She reached down, got her fingers on his cock, and found the entrance to her vagina for him. Then, having lodged him, she lay back to let him get on with it. He would almost certainly come too fast for her, but that did not bother her – she would be sure she got her share later. He pressed slowly in till his cock was in her up to the hilt. Her vagina shortened by having her knees up by her shoulders, she could feel the head of his cock on her cervix.
The bull in him took over. He threw his arms behind her knees, esenyurt escort shoved them up to her shoulders, split her thighs so wide apart it hurt, and attacked her with his cock, banging into her cunt with such force, his face angry and concentrated, fucking her. There was no way she could stop him, and anyway she did not want to. She surrendered, she wanted to surrender, to his force, doing all he must have wanted to do when he almost raped her, but now she was ready for him, wet and open and spread wide and bent back, taking his cock deep into her at each thrust, thrilled as he struck her cervix.
And, Oh, she felt it inside her, the flow of his sperm, bursting out of him, hitting the top of her vagina, it was lovely, his sperm in her, the feel of it, the warmth and the sudden different feel, the gluey slide of his cock as she milked him and he slowed and lay on her.
“Don’t come out,” she said, resuming control, “Let go of my knees.”
She lowered them, which was a relief, and he lay on her and in her, head in her shoulder, panting.
“There, ” she said, “That was lovely, you did it beautifully.”
She turned her head, kissed him on the mouth, released him again.
Of course she wanted more, not having come, but she had better let him recover himself a bit. His cock shrank away. He withdrew and lay beside her.
What to do with him next? Amusing line of thought.
She could get him to fuck her in some other position, a bit more slowly this time. But – that lacked daring, excitement
She lay, musing on various bright ideas while he appeared to be asleep or at least inactive.
Eventually he stirred. Nuzzled up to her. Kissed her. At his initiative. Sign of hope. Other than when he tried to rape her, everything else had been at hers. Admittedly partly because she wanted it that way. At least at this stage.
“Turn on your front,” she said.
Obediently he did. She crept down, opened his legs, knelt between them. She could see his balls, pressed back behind his bum. She opened the cheeks of his bottom. His crack was hairy, masculine, his arse hole dark and wrinkled. She bent, started to tongue it. It smelt – not exactly shitty, but fusty, not surprisingly as he had been out and about. She liked that though, the animal quality of it. And ran the tip of her tongue around, inside his bottom then round the rim and the wrinkles. He moaned.
She reached under him with one hand to get hold of his cock. He got the idea, raised his bottom so that she could get the hand round him. She squeezed – did not rub. Firm squeezes as she licked. And his cock revived, grew stiff.
She wasn’t going to waste this new load of spunk on her hand or the sheet, though. When he was thoroughly aroused, dying to come again she was sure –
“Get up by the bed,” she said “Watch.”
He struggled to his feet. She grabbed a jar of face cream from her side table, knelt on the bed with her skirt up and her bottom out over the edge and her head right down on the sheets, got some cream on a finger, pushed her hand up through her legs, and started to cream her anus
He stood behind and watched. Stroking himself, keeping his cock hard – another initiative.
“Come here”, she said.
He moved to beside the bed, and she put cream on the head of his cock – enjoyable, feeling it go all soft.
“You know what you have to do,” she said, nuzzling her head down into the sheets so as to emphasise the way her bum was thrust up at him, and parting her knees so that he could see her cunt between her legs and get his cock up her arse more easily. “You have to find just the right point of entry. You’ll feel you aren’t going to make it, then suddenly, there you are inside. After that, go slow on the way in. Out is easier.”
She shut her eyes. Then felt his cock feeling about in the crack of her arse, feeling its way at the entrance. He was inside the first, easy bit and pointed in the right direction, but was he hard enough to get through?
“Hold your cock near the tip,” she said, “Help it through. Think how it’s going to love being up my bum. I want you to fuck me up there, right up my bottom, fuck me in my most private place, I want you to have it, I want you to fuck my bum, fuck me right up where my shit is, fuck my bum.” Maybe that would help turn him on.
Suddenly she parted for him and he was through. And sliding slowly right into her. Till his stomach hit her bottom and his balls her cunt. He slid out, then in again.
She didn’t find the sensation directly so erotic. But that wasn’t the point. She loved the idea of it – leading him on, the pics in his mag for real, his cock up her bottom. She started to rub her clit, which was excited. He was running in and out of the entrance, quite painful for her as he continued, esenyurt eve gelen escort but he must need it for the sensation. She rubbed. Oh, her clit was swollen, loving it.
“Come on,” she said, “Fuck it, I want you to come, I want your spunk up my bum, right inside me, I’m going to come, my clit, my arse.” For, all of a sudden, her anus was enjoying it, just at the entrance, a weird feel but thrilling too. And was working along with her clit as if they were one and the same.
And he came – she could feel it, all liquid inside her. At once, thrilled by that, rubbing furiously, she came, panting. And knelt there while he stayed in her, her bum thrust up to meet him and for him to look at it. Till he softened, and shrank out of her.
“Watch,” she said, “Look.” She would make him face it. Cruel in a way, but let him learn to be gross as well as gentle. “Look”. She parted the cheeks of her bottom, and could feel his sperm leaking from her, down from her anus towards her cunt, not too mixed up with other matter she hoped, but what the hell.
He grabbed some tissues out of the box on her bedside table and wiped her bum with it . Unexpected, thoughtful, and another initiative.
“Thanks,” she said.
They collapsed on the bed together again. She was so sweaty and sticky and spunked and reamed and drilled – her clit and both holes throbbing in reminiscence – she loved it.
After a while she moved.
“Where are you going,” he asked – the first words he had spoken.
“Just to the bathroom – I’ll be back.”
She went in, shut the door, and sat down. The door opened and he was inside. She had not bothered to lock it.
“What are you doing?” she asked, “Do you need to go? I can wait.”
He stood in front of her, looming over her.
“Piss,” he said.
“Piss. You were going to piss. Now – piss.”
“I’m not into that.” Which she wasn’t, and never had been. Not that it shocked her particularly, but it didn’t appeal to her, she couldn’t see the point of it.
“I’ve done everything you wanted.”
That was true. And this was him declaring himself for once.
“I don’t know if I can,” she said – she was inhibited now.
He turned on a tap in the sink. Unexpected practical touch.
“Now you can,” he said.
And she could. Her pee poured out of her thick and fast and its splashing mixed with the sound of the running tap. He was down on his knees, staring at her wet open pissing cunt. Then he had a hand between her legs, just under her cunt, cupping a little of her pee. He licked her pee off his hand, just as she remembered licking his sperm off hers that first time. How could he do it? Why did he want to? Well, no accounting for tastes and he had a right to his. She finished peeing, wiped her cunt with toilet paper, he watching intently the while.
He turned off the tap. “Kneel here,” he said, and pointed to the floor.
“What on earth for?” Did he want a blow job?
“Kneel – it’s my turn.”
Fair enough, and a good development in him, whether she was in the mood to kneel or not, which in fact she was not. Still.
She knelt, while he – still naked below the waist and with his shirt more or less tucked into his vest – put his cock in her mouth. A blow job – well, no hardship.
But suddenly her mouth flooded. He was pissing into her. Warm, sharp, acid, flooding. She started to pull back, but he grabbed her head, forced her onto him, much stronger than her. Pee flooded out of her mouth. But she swallowed some too. She was getting excited. She pulled at his cock, swallowed his piss. Till the flow abated. He took his cock out. A drop appeared at its tip, fell, and was replaced by another. She put out her tongue, collected the drops on it, licked his tip when they stopped, took her tongue into her mouth and smiled up at him as she savoured the taste. And there she was, her clothes all wet with piss, and the place stinking of it.
“Get your clothes off,” he said.
Half in obedience and half from common sense she did, and chucked them on the floor. She was suddenly shy. Would her body put him off, naked in the bright bathroom light like this? He stripped as well – a good body, surprisingly for a layabout.
He went to the shower in the bath, turned it on, pulled her over to it. They got in. There was a bar of soap on the side of the bath and another in the sink, which he got. He lathered his hands, started to soap her, her shoulders, then her breasts. She lathered her hands, soaped him likewise. The water gleamed on their bodies. Tenderly she soaped his balls, washed the crack of his bottom. Carefully he washed her cunt, and her anus so recently dripping with his sperm. Kneeling they washed each others legs, feet. She got the shampoo and they washed each other’s hair, rubbing and caressing it.
They got out. She fetched warm dry towels from the airing cupboard. They dried each other, carefully and tenderly.
Naked, dry, they stood. He took her in his arms. “Oh, mother,” he said. They kissed, fondly, gently.
[Thanks all of you who sent comments on Chapter 1 – encouraged me to proceed, and more welcome].
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