I came home from class and heard my mother and s****r, Booke, yelling all the way outside. Brooke was on one of her rampages again. She is so spoiled. All she has to do is pitch a fit and she gets her way with anything. She wanted an iPad for her eighteenth birthday last week, even though she knew the folks couldn't afford one, but she pitched one of her fits, and they broke down and got it for her. This time it was about her field hockey tryouts. She's supposed to go to tryouts at a college a couple hours away this three day weekend. Our parents aren't well off, but we're comfortable. They di... Continue»
The University of life has taught me many things, and as a young girl growing-up, sexual perversions come tops.
I have witnessed a lot, felt a lot, even laid back and let men finish their kink on me, detached, but involved, why, you may ask, because I got off on it too, would be my simple answer.
Men were doing things to me, when I was at an age they should never have, but they live for the opportunity, and when it presents itself, they go in and pleasure themselves.
But why does it not affect me like other women?
It's a question I have pondered many times, some will say that my high sexual drive is a causal effect, from the many penetrations I taught myself to enjoy, others will refer to the day of my birth, which happened in reality, but shrouded more in old wives tales, and others refer to my mother, who was a self confessed nymphomaniac.
Like I said earlier, there are people who cannot enjoy normal sex, there has to be something else, and the shocking thing about it all, is that most people are clueless as it happens all around them.
Going back to that warm hazy day in the park a beautiful but heavily pregnant woman labouring with each step, stopped outside a hut in the parks end enclosure.
It was tree lined, so a cooler breeze wafted between the branches, and made for a cool haven that muggy afternoon.
The old men playing chess on the black and white paving stones, drank beer and cajoled with each other, stopped and looked as my mother approached. She was in her early twenties and had such a beautiful face, their hearts melted, and they guided her to a cooler part of their corner.
When she sat down, somewhat heavily onto the seat, the mood changed amongst some of the men. Mothers loose clothing, aided guy gusts of cool air, exposed her lack of underclothes. They all saw she had shaved herself as my birth was close, a pregnant woman also conjured thoughts of fertile females and a possibly of lack of sexual relations, due to the pregnancy.
Men with their own experiences, from their own marriages, knew that's when their women were at their horniest, so this beautiful young woman, naked under her thin cotton print, might be up for some good sex, these men were attracted to women who have been fertilized by other men, then discarded and left horny for nine months, so they pitied these women, and offered them succour and cock, and who could blame them for their twisted assumption, pregnant women are hormonal and horny, feel ugly and crave male attention, and no doubt, my mothers lack of underwear, was her choice, and sitting down among these men and showing that she was nude, could point more to the true.
They gathered around her, six men, well past their prime, but my mother was blind to that, they were lavishing her with compliments, closer and closer they crept, until one bent forward and kissed her on the mouth.
My mother responded to his kiss, she began to lactate heavily, dark circles spreading from her protruding nipples, straining against the thin cotton fabric, the milky secretions making her hard nipples more inviting, so as she willingly let this man kiss her pursed lips, another beside her leant in and took her nipple into his dry mouth and suckled her.
Mothers moaning told the men to take her into the hut, and they all had a hand in helping her, and by the time they got inside, mother was naked, the thin cotton dress was all she wore, and hands were all over her, men starved of young warm female flesh, were suddenly replenished, with one opportunist, pushing in beside her, from behind her, and within minutes, he was taking her from behind, milk spurting from her heavy breasts as he gripped them, using them as leverage to pull himself back inside her, mother pushing back, her heavy stomach swaying, rocking me inside, she was horny that day and being fucked in that little wooden hut, was why she went there.
The men fell quiet as the she moaned and cried for more, sperm was running down her inner thighs as each man took his turn with her, she was insatiable, and in the end I started moving down the love canal as it was being used, mother dropped to the dirty floor and rolled onto her back as I emerged, semen on my face and in my mouth, some said mother was sucking on a man when I slipped from her, some said I suckled before I was guided to her tit, the saltiness replaced with the sweet nectar of the female breast.
Fifteen years later I visited that same park and hut and talked to one old man who was there on that day, and I begged him for the sordid truth of that day, I wanted to know and promised him anonymity, and from that truth the power of sex came home to me, what men and a single heavily pregnant woman could do for a moments pleasure
'She was naked and beautiful', his eyes were misted as he recalled that day fifteen years back, 'Did you fuck her too', he looking into my face, as if seeing her again, 'Yes I fucked her, we all did, she could not get enough cock', somehow I visualized this and looked down on the wooden boards, 'Where I asked', and he got up and walked back towards the door, pointing to the very spot, right there, he said.
I rose from my seat and joined him, the boards were darker, 'That's your water dear', he said, then added quietly, 'I was inside her when her water broke, I was a man possessed, I could feel you coming and I cummed on you'.
He fell silent as he stared at the boards, 'Then what' I asked, this was the part I needed to know most.
'Your mother never knew you were out of her, she was sucking cock like a starving wolverine', I watched him as he talked, suddenly excited again, 'and you, and you', he repeated, 'started suckling on my cock, and everybody laughed at the sight'.
I could feel the heat rise in my face, why would he lie about something like that. He was staring at me, his eyes were glazed, 'Do you still like to suck men's cocks'?
We were talking openly and in all honesty, an uneasy truce was between us, 'I suppose you were my first', I said unabashed, making light of one of natures strangest situations.
We remained silent for a few moments, there was a sort of time bonding between us, and I moved away from the spot and looked out of the window, 'Do people still use this place', I asked him?
'They are all gone now', he replied, only me left. 'You think about that day', I asked him with a detached curiosity'?
'All the time, all the time', he tailed off again, his eyes lost in the mists of time.
I walked back to him and dropped to my knees in front of him, 'Would you like to lie with me'?
He looked puzzled as I stood up and started to strip off until I stood completely naked in front of him, I turned and walked back to the stained floor boards and sat down, my bum in the centre spot, I lay down fully with my legs open, shaved like my mother was, 'Get on top of me', more of an order than a request, and I watched as his scarecrow of body came into view, his heavy scrotum and two inch wrinkly cock swayed heavily as he came closer to my naked body.
He knelt between my legs and clumsily fell on top of me, my arms encircling his frail body my knees bent as I hooked him in-situ, my calves encircling his, 'Fuck me, fuck me', I moaned over and over, his flaccid cock rubbing against my wet pussy, I was re-enacting the scene over again as I en-visualized it back then, more for his memory than mine, then it was over.
'Why did you do that', he asked me before we departed. 'I don't really know', I replied honestly, 'perhaps I like to give pleasure', I concluded, before turning and walking away for ever.
Two generations, the same man, place and spot, marked by a special life giving water, but somehow, as I thought on my way home on the bus, my grabbing and sucking his cock back them, was more pleasurable than it was fifteen years later by the same and more wiling girl, I smiled, suddenly proud of my first suckling, I mean not many girls can say that.