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The Wilson Family Saga (Part 2)

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THE WILSON FAMILY SAGA BY JGE POWERS (PART 2)

(FEEDBACK ALWAYS WELCOME: [email protected])

***

Gordy and Max sat on the front porch. Max opened a can
of beer. “You look like a man who need to talk,” he said.

“Mr. Duncan . . . Max, I don’t know where to start.
One part of me is saying, ‘Wow’; the other part is screaming
that I’ve just broken every rule in the book.” Gordy
shrugged his shoulders.

“Listen to me, young son. All that morality crap is
just so much bullshit! It was made up by some asshole who
convinced the other assholes that he was right. It’s just
pure man-made shit!

“If people screwed more,” he continued, ” do you think
we’d have all this hatred? All this war? Do you think
anybody would give a flying fuck what color you were if we
just fucked more?”

“Max, the Bible says you can’t covet your neighbor’s
wife. Besides we’re really talking about me fucking my . .
Mother,” Gordy said dejectedly. The euphoria of the night
was wearing off.

“Don’t forget your sister, or my niece. And you’re
right about the Bible, but what if your neighbor is banging
your wife while you’re banging his? Where the coveting
then? Shit, boy what about the rest of the Bible. The real
story. Lot and his juicy daughters? And Adam and Eve?
Where did all those chicks their sons married come from?
The brothers had to do some righteous laying down with the
sisters.” Max had reverted to the street dialect; a far cry
from his Rhodes Scholar accent.

“Max, this is the modern world, not Biblical times.”

“Listen to me, Gordy. You don’t know it yet, but
you’re a stud! A stud performs a service. The women of the
world have been brainwashed with this morality shit, but
their bodies still talk. The body knows crap from morality.

“It’s body language that you have to learn to read.
They can’t hide what they really want. Your Mother’s body
was talking to me tonight. Your father’s gone, and she
thought she couldn’t have you – that wouldn’t be moral – so
her body talked to mine. Besides every white woman
fantasizes about going to bed with a Black man. You know why
they fantasize? ‘Cause it ain’t moral to go to bed with a
nigger.
“Hell, I just read her body language and gave her what
she wanted. What she needed.”

“Okay, Max, that explains you. What about me? I
fucked my own Mother . . . well, Stepmother. And in the
ass, too.”

Max laughed and put his arm around Gordy’s shoulders.

“Boy, you’re a hard sell. Fraud. Old Sigmund. Every
son wants to screw his Mother. Every Mother wants to screw
her son. Did she fight you off? Did you force her to do
anything against her will?”

“No,” Gordy replied softly.

“Damn right. Her body wanted you. So did your
sister’s. You don’t know it yet, but you did Carol a big
favor.” He laughed. “Almost as big a favor as I did for
Serena.”

Gordy shifted his weight. His ass was beginning to
hurt, but the ache helped him to think clearly. Max made
sense. Where was the wrong of it? He was beginning to feel
good again. And he wanted to believe. Morality was man-
made. If man could make it, then man could change it. There
was no sin if all parties agreed. He nodded his head
thoughtfully, and took a deep breath of cool, night air. He
made his own version of peace with himself, and was
contented. “I feel a hellava lot better, Max.”

“Of course you do, young son. Good lovin’ and good
conversation make for good sleep. You now have the best of
all worlds. Enjoy them.”

“Max, What about them?” he nodded at the house.

“You may have to show them the way, Gordy. Remember,
you were a tough sell, too.

“Well, I’ve got to be going. By the way, Gordy, thanks
for inviting me to dinner.”

Gordy watched Max drive away. He took another deep
breath. Yes, he did feel much better. When he entered the
house, his Mother was sitting at the dining room table – was
it just a few hours ago? – the dishes were still there. She
was staring straight ahead. “Mom?”

“Gordy, we have to talk.” Her voice was very soft. He
could hardly hear her. He saw her eyes were red from
crying.

“No, Mom, we don’t. I know what you’re going to say,
and you’re wrong. Nothing that happened here tonight was
wrong. If anything, it was very right.”

Joanna Wilson was guiltridden. She was depraved,
disgusting! She had seduced her children; ruined their
lives. Because of her own lustful needs she had sunk to
uncharted depths. She was drowning, and Gordy was throwing
her a life preserver. She was ready to grasp at any straw.

He sat down beside her and took her in his arms,
continuing in the same way Max had. He even used the same
analogies. Joanna still vacillated. She wanted to believe,
to shed the guilt, but her engrained conformity continued to
fight her son’s logic.

“But Gordy, you and Carol are my children! How can you
say that this was right? My body betrayed me, and I’ve done
this horrible thing to you both.”

“Wrong. Wrong, Mom.” Gordy used all the rationale Max
had and added some of his own. ” . . . besides, how many
people can say that they truly love their family? I mean,
really love them! Up to now it’s just been an abstract
thing; not tangible. But that’s all changed now, Mom. We
have something no one can ever take away. Do you
understand?”

“Oh, Gordy. I want so much to believe. So very much.”

Her eyes were still filled with tears. He took her
gently by the hands. “Come back to bed. Everything is going
to be alright. Dry you eyes. You don’t want Carol to know
you’ve been crying.” He put his arm around her waist, very
conscious of her body; the fact that she was naked beneath
her robe. Gently they walked up the stairs together.

The night passed as in a dream; fantasy and reality
blending together. He was conscious of touch, and taste,
and enhanced feelings. He didn’t know if the warm, moist
mouth that sucked him belonged to Carol or Joanna, or whose
tight, wet pussy slid over his dick. He didn’t know whose
breast or cunt he kissed and licked. And he didn’t care.

***

Gordy woke up minutes before his alarm went off. He
was surprised that he felt so good, especially after only a
few hours sleep. It’s great to be young, he thought as he
absentmindedly opened the bathroom door. Carol stood there,
naked, toweling off. Automatically, he mumbled an apology
and quickly shut the door. Her laughter followed him.

He smiled and let himself back in. “Sorry,” he said,
“reflex action.”

She kissed him gently and stretched. Her body was taut
and her tits jutted upward. He felt a stirring in his
loins. “Good morning, Boy Wonder. Sleep well?” She didn’t
wait for a reply and continued.

“Gordy, I can’t tell you how good I feel. How full.
It’s like the first day of summer, and there’s no more
school.”

He remembered what Max said about doing her a favor.

Her voice kadirli escort turned low and serious. “We didn’t do
anything really wrong, did we?”

“No, we didn’t,” he assured her. “In fact, without
philosophizing, we just may have done something right for a
change.”

“About last night, Gordy,” her voice was still serious,
“There’s something I want you to know. Circumstances didn’t
allow you to be the first guy to . . . fuck me, but . . .
well, I mean . . . I wanted you to be the first to . . . you
know . . . my ass.” She was actually blushing.

He nodded, and hugged her. “I know, Carol.”

“Max was . . . well, Max was Max. A fantasy. Great
sex. But I made love to you.” It was a statement. “And
Mom, too. Wow, it still blows my mind.”

Damn, he thought, Max really was right. One hundred
percent, fucking right. He was totally relieved.

“I just wanted you to know that. And now,” her voice
perked up, “I’m going to catch a nap. I have a library
assignment I have to do later.” She kissed him again and
entered her room, leaving the bathroom door open.

There was no need for closed doors at the Wilson house,
anymore.

***

It was six A.M. The weather was clear and cool. A
perfect morning. Gordy felt great. Marvelous. Fantastic.
The world was great. He rode his bike effortlessly. His aim
was unerring. Each folded paper hit the mark. He could no
wrong. He pushed himself to go faster. He wanted to reach
the end of his route. Today, a different Gordy Wilson was
delivering the News. And more. He was a Stud! And he had a
mission.

At the end of his route he had a surprise for a special
lady. A real tease. Juanita Rojas was going to have the
tables turned on her, if he had his way. Sexy Juanita, in
her tight maids’ uniform. Full busted and firm assed. She
liked to squeeze Gordy to her tits and watch him turn red.
She liked to pinch him on the ass. Visions of Juanita
bending over came to him. The view of her cleavage was
spectacular. Everything that a fourteen year old could want.

Well, he thought, this fourteen year old wanted more.

He was almost on top of the joggers before he noticed
them. He hit the brakes just as the three, young girls
reached him.

“For a moment,” the little blonde said, “I thought you
were going to run us over.”

DeeDee Sanford was Marlene’s kid sister; the same age
as Gordy, and a younger version of her older sister. She
was with Margie Hart, a raven haired cutie-pie – nice tits,
too, Gordy thought – and Penny Grifford. Everyone called
her Plain Penny, for obvious reasons.

“Hi,” he said, “What’re you guys doing out so early?”

Cutie pie wiggled her rump. “Keeping our girlish
shapes. What does it look like?” DeeDee giggled.

How young they seemed to him.

Plain Penny stayed in the background, as usual. Gordy
knew her as a fellow student in Advanced Chemistry; another
egghead. She was tall, somewhat gangly, and self-conscious.
Her dark blonde hair hung limp. She never seem to do
anything with it. Gordy felt very sympathetic towards her.
She really was kind of cute, or would be, if she did
something with herself, he thought. He smiled at her. She
tried to smile back.

“What are you doin’ later?” DeeDee asked.

“Why?”

“We had a slumber party at Margie’s. Want to come for
breakfast, after you finish your route?”

“Yeah, sure. Margie’s folks would love that.”

“No,” Margie piped up, “they’re away for the week. We
have the place to ourselves. Come on over. Please.”

“I’ll try,” he said noncommittally. He wasn’t sure if
the look on Penny’s face meant she was glad or sad about the
invitation. He waved as he peddled away. The girls could
wait, he had other things to think of.

***

Helen Crotty was 49 years old, and looked ten years
younger. Her body was firm and womanly, and surprisingly
muscular. She owed her good figure to her daily swimming
workout. Day in, day out; whatever the weather, she swam.

She cut the water cleanly. Turning her head she caught
a glimpse of the paperboy coming up the drive. What was his
name? Oh, yes – Gordy. Gordy Wilson. Strong legs. Nice
buns, she thought. How old could he be? Fourteen; fifteen
at the most. She wondered, what does a fifteen year old cock
would look like? Young, tender, virginal, sleek. Strong.

Her loins began to heat up, and her juice began to
flow. Damn, she thought, now she was dreaming of robbing
the cradle. She swan faster.

Gordy had strict instructions about where to leave the
Crotty paper. Not in the drive or the bushes. He had to
bring it right up to the backdoor and give it to the maid.

He passed the pool area. Mrs. Crotty was doing her
daily workout. He saw her everyday. At least he caught
sight of her. He had never been really close to the woman.

Gordy pulled up to the back door. It was opened
immediately by the maid, Juanita. Her smile was wide and
genuine. “Buenos dias, Gordy.” She reached out and
playfully pinched his cheek. Her uniform was taut across her
full chest. He could see her nipples through the thin
material. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Gordy smiled.

“Good morning, love,” he said.

She was surprised at his greeting. Usually he was very
shy. As she turned, he reached out and pinched her ass.
She squealed. “All’s fair, love.” Juanita Rojas was
speechless. She loved to tease this pretty gringo, but until
today he had never made an overt gesture. She wondered.

“My little rooster is feeling his spurs, today.”

“Your little rooster is feeling like the cock of the
walk.”

All she could say was, “Oh.”

“May I have a cup of coffee, pretty senorita?”

She smiled back. He was actually flirting, she
thought. She was intrigued and aroused. Juanita liked
young boys. They actually turned her on more so than grown
men. They were sweeter and kinder. If only they had bigger
cocks, she thought.

Gordy followed her closely. When she turned, her tits
were touching his chest. He boldly fondled her hip, and ran
his hand up and down her thigh, gently. “You smell
wonderful. And feel good, too.”

She kissed him lightly and was taken aback when his
tongue entered the warm recesses of her mouth. Her breath
caught in her throat. Gordy pressed his advantage. He
pushed his loins at her and felt her respond. He smiled.

“Coffee is such a waste of time,” he said. The cup fell
to the floor as they locked in a tight embrace. He grabbed
her ass and pulled her to him. With a practiced motion, he
yanked her dress up – no panties, just a garter belt and
nylons; her mound a tangled jungle of thick black pubic hair
– pushed her against the table and jammed his cock into her
tingling hole. She gasped and whimpered.

Madre de Dios, she thought, I’m in Heaven. It was huge!
Her kadıköy escort pussy juice flowed like hot sap, lubricating his entry.
Gordy pumped furiously. She was coming already. Her fingers
dug deeply into his shoulders. Her legs wrapped around his hips.

“Aaaaaaah, Si, Si . . . yes, yes . . . fuck me.
Harder!” Her voice became strangled and she began mumbling
in Spanish as wave after orgasmic wave of pleasure engulfed
her.

“Yeah! Fuck me back,” he yelled. “Com’on, harder,
harder.” The pressure built in his loins. His legs trembled.

From far off, she could feel his convulsions start as
he started to cum. It triggered off another orgasm in her
heated cunt.

Helen Crotty stood by the window. Her fingers were
busy in her wet pussy. She had pulled her bathing suit
aside and was vigorously working her index finger over her
extended clitoris. Oh, God, she thought. You bitch! You
fucking lucky bitch. I hate you. I love you. I’m coming!
Juicy Mexican pussy; big beautiful young cock! Her mouth
watered for it.

She had towelled dry, put on her robe and started for
the house, when a noise, like glass breaking, made her walk
back to the kitchen window. She gasped at the sight. Her
breath caught and her legs went weak. That lovely young boy,
his pretty buns bare, was sticking an enormous prick into her
maid – men don’t even have cocks like that, she thought.
Rage, envy, desire flooded her body. Her fingers sought out
her cunt. The material was too thick. She roughly pushed it
aside and jammed two fingers into her dripping pussy.

It wasn’t the same.

***

Joanna awoke just in time to hear Carol’s car pull out
of the driveway. It was almost eight o’clock in the morning.
She stretched. Aside from some stiff muscles and some
soreness in her pussy and asshole, she felt marvelous; no
guilt, no remorse or recrimination. Putting on a robe, she
remembered another time when her pussy and asshole told
another story. All those wasted years, she thought, then
smiled to herself. At least this time the story has a happy
ending. Down the hall, she paused at Gordy’s room, knocked
and opened the door. His rumpled bed was empty. She
remembered his newspaper route. God, where do these kids get
the energy?

In the kitchen, she made coffee.

After Max had left, after Gordy’s marvelously convincing
arguments, she had laid together with her children, fucking,
sucking, touching, nibbling, holding each close, giving and
receiving pleasure, until, reluctantly, she told them to go
to bed and get some rest. Both had full schedules. Now,
with just a few hours sleep, they were up and out, and here
she was pumping coffee – life-giving fluid! – into her tired
body. She rubbed a hand over her full tits. The sensitive
flesh responded immediately and she laughed outloud. You’re
not tired, she said to herself, you’re still horny. Still
chuckling she went back upstairs to take a shower remembering
last night’s wonders: a black man – what a fantasy! Her
daughter and her stepson! – so exciting she still had
trouble believing it. And no guilt!

* * *

Joanna was rubbing her naked body briskly when the
doorbell rang insistantly. “Isn’t it always the way,” she
said, picking up her robe. “Just a minute,” she called
loudly. Hastily she put on a robe, wrapped her damp hair
with a towel and went downstairs to answer the door. “Max!”
she squealed, delight in her voice.

“Good morning, sweetcheeks. I was wondering if two lost
travelers could mooch a cup of coffee.”

Joanna saw the other black man standing behind him. She
blushed at Max’s physical reference to her and automatically
clutched her robe closer, which just accented her lovely body
even more so. “Oh.” was all she could say.

Max walked in, the other man sheepishly following. “Let
me introduce you to my brother, John,” he said.

John Duncan was almost handsome, in a distinguished
black manner, but Joanna could see a distinct facial
resemblance to his rougher looking brother and his skin was
just a few shades lighter.

“Oh! How do you do, Dr. Duncan. I’ve heard so much
about you,” she said, somewhat relieved. John Duncan mumbled
his thanks. Joanna thought him rather shy for a college
professor.

Max put his arm around her. “John’s a secret admirer of
yours.” Joanna looked at him, confused. He nodded. “He
became one as soon as I told him how much you like to fuck
black cock. He’s dying to sample that lovely white cunt of
yours.”

Joanna blanched. Her hand covered her mouth and her
body blazed with embarrassment and shock. “Max! How could
you?” she wailed.

“Damn you!” John Duncan said, angrily, “You have all the
tack of a bull elephant! Mrs. Wilson, I assure you my
intentions are . . .”

“Sexual and obscene!” Max finished for him. Standing
behind the flushed and abashed woman, holding her shoulders,
he pulled the robe off her shoulders, baring her big tits.
John Duncan gasped.

Guilty passion swept her body when she saw the look on
John’s face; a combination of wonder, desire and lust. Max’s
rough hands messaged her tits, tweaking the nipples. The air
around her was suddenly charged with electricity and an
exciting, forbidden thrill rippled through her still
pleasure-raw nerves. Heart pounding, she gasped as her
traitorous body released a stream of hot cream into her warm
cunt.
“Damn you, Max,” she whispered huskily, “Damn you!”

Her legs trembled and she leaned back against him for
support, unable to stop his brother, John, from opening her
robe and completely exposing her nakedness.

John Duncan was smiling, lewdly. “Max didn’t pay you
nearly enough compliments. You’re exquisite!” he gushed,
running the tip of his big, dark finger over her tits, down
her belly. His finger slid length-ward along her puffy slit
and a smile creased his face as he watched her mouth gape;
her eyes go wide as a shiver of pleasure washed over her
body.

“Oh, yes,” she said in a harsh whisper. “That feels so
good. Do fuck me!” she said, her hand caressing John’s warm,
dark cheek.

“I told you she was a hot bitch, Johnny.” Max said,
picking her up in his strong arms. “Com’on, lets have some
fun.” He carried the dreamy eyed woman to up to her bedroom.
Placing her in the soft Wing chair, he caressed her nipples
as John began to strip his clothes.

Joanna moaned softly. The strong ebony hands had a
tender touch that felt so good and she was still so excited
and incredibly horny. Her body melted and she leaned her
head back and closed her eyes.

Max held her, while John slipped the silk robe from her
shoulders and kissed his way down her throat to her large
tits. She couldn’t have resisted even if she had wanted to.

“God, you’re sexy!” he groaned. “And I love big tits!
Yours are great!”

Kneeling in front of her, John wrapped his arms around
her waist and eased her kağıthane escort ass out to the edge of the chair,
forcing her legs apart. He wedged himself in between them,
all the time kissing his way over her body, especially her
tits.

She ran her fingers through his thick hair, and pressed
his face deeper into her cleavage. A dreamy warmth filled
her loins. She could feel her pussy contract. She was in
heaven.

Max kissed her hungrily, his lips clamping over hers and
fucked her mouth with his tongue; just as his brother lifted
her ass and buried his black face in her hot white cunt.

Joanna lost control. Groaning deeply, she tried to hump
John’s face. Electric shocks, one after the other, shook her
body as John’s nimble pink tongue snaked up and into her
burning cunt. As Max slipped his hand down to massage her
big, hard nipples, she arched her back, thrusting her tits
forward so he could get at them better.

“You really are one hot bitch!” Max whispered, releasing
her tits. “Now, we’re gonna fuck you ragged.”

“Oh, yes, Max!” she choked, her brain hot with desire,
“Fuck me! I need your black cocks so bad! My pussy wants
it!”

John drew his face out from between her legs, his face
smeared with cunt juice. He wiped his mouth. “I’m first!”
he said with a smile. Then he picked up the almost limp
woman and laid her on the bed. Kneeling at her feet, his
eyes roaming her lush, white, naked body. Fascinated by the
constrast in color he lifted her legs into the air and spread
them wide apart baring her cunt to his hungry eyes.

Joanna gazed hungrily at his rigid black cock. It stood
straight up, long and slender but heavily ridged. A drop of
pre-cum glistened on the dark mushroom-shaped head. She
licked her lips. Somewhere in the back of her mind she
remembered that cocks like that – long and slender – were
called ass reamers. A wicked thrill flushed her already hot
body. John teased her, running his fat cockhead over her
slick opening. Her body heaved up; her grasping cunt trying
to suck it into her shivering body. “Oh, please,” she
moaned, “put it in!”

John Duncan chuckled and slid the entire length of his
cock into her boiling cunt in one swift stroke.

“Aggggggg!” she cried out, her body arching to meet his
thrust, her arms clutching his body to hers. “Ahhhhh! Oh,
so good . . . your cock . . . so good,” she sighed and
together, they began to move in unison, their bodies
instantly in tune with each other. In her lust filled brain,
Joanna was truly in paradise.

She was panting; wave after wave of pleasure washing
over her body, when something smacked against her lips.
Through foggy eyes she saw the head of Max’s monster cock
dangling before her mouth. He smacked it against her tender
skin again. Joanna smiled. “I’ll swallow it whole!” she
said in a challenge as her tongue teased the mushroom shaped
cock-tip, then she licked it all over.

Bug-eyed, John watched his brother’s massive twelve-inch
fuckpole disappear down Joanna’s throat. Her cheeks bulged,
and she looked like she would choke, but she didn’t release
an inch of it. In awe, he watched as Max put his dark hands
behind her head and pushed her face deep into his crotch.
His entire cock was completely sunk deep in the heat of her
sucking mouth and throat.

“Fucking tremendous! Oh, sweetcheeks, you’re one
hellava, deep-throating cocksucker!” Max said, pumping his
thick cock-log slowly in and out of her hot mouth; sliding it
out almost to the tip, then thrusting it back to the hilt.
“Tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?”

She mumbled and nodded as best she could with his big
cock in her mouth, her tongue swirling around the heavy
shaft; its tangy taste and texture driving her to a frenzy.
Her head began to move in fucking motions, faster and faster;
eager to get at Max’s prize cum.

John was so intrigued that his fucking had slowed to
nothing. He felt her hips rotate, lewdly, beneath him; the
walls of her cunt contracting around his prick. He sighed
with pleasure and felt the pressure start to heat up in his
nuts. He began humping her tight box in earnest.

Joanna gasped in delight. John’s cock was wonderful.
Max’s cock was magnificent. She didn’t think it was possible
to be filled so completely. Then she thought of Gordy’s
beautiful cock; of having it up her ass. All three cocks
together!

Her body exploded!

John squealed as he felt her cunt walls squeeze, vise-
like, around the head of his plowing dick, clutching at it,
sucking it deep into her volcano-like, erupting cunt. He
plunged in, his cock spurting into her squeezing pussy. She
erupted in a series of contractions so strong that she almost
passed out. Violent colors exploded in her brain and her
legs locked tightly around his body, making him ride out the
spasm that shook her body.

“Cumming!” John cried, almost in pain. “Aghhhhh! I’m
cummin’!”

She tried to scream her passion, but Max’s big prick
choked off the sound. It came out like a hoarse gasp for
air. Her lips clamped on his hot rod and she sucked his
monster cock in lusty desperation; her cheeks bulging and her
powerful jaw muscles working to form tremendous suction.

“Yeah, baby, yeah! Suck that knob! Make me cum! Suck
it! . . . Here it comes! . . . yeahhhhh!”

The wildly, throbbing cock erupted deep in her throat,
spurting gobs of thick, creamy, cum straight down her gullet.
She gagged on the vast amount. Cum overflowed her mouth and
ran down her chin, falling on her heaving chest. The still
cum-shooting cock sprayed her face, her hair, and her body
with droplets of milky-white cum juice.

Flushed and panting, she fisted it, back and forth,
draining the last dregs of his huge load; her tongue swishing
the swollen head; her hand smearing the streaking globs into
her skin, making it glisten.

Max sank down beside her, his body still trembling.

“Holy shit!” he said, tiredly.

Reluctantly, John pulled his wet shrinking cock out of
Joanna’s juice-filled pussy. He was panting. His body fell
heavily beside her. “Make that two,” he moaned and closed
his eyes.

Joanna signed deeply; her body glowing. Her nerve ends
tingled with charged electricity. She wiped her hand along
her cum-slick body, then stuck her fingers in her sopping
pussy, picking up the residue of their combined loads. She
licked each finger clean, sucking it deep into her mouth,
savoring the tangy flavor. “Oh, that tastes wonderful,” she
said, her voice soft and relaxed as her body. “You were both
wonderful! How can I ever thank you?”

“Are you serious, woman?” John Duncan asked,
incredulously, “What more can you do?”

Joanna giggled. “I can suck your cocks clean. How’s
that for a ‘thank you’ gesture?”

Max sighed a deep, satisfied sigh. “You go right ahead,
sweetcheeks, and if you do real well and get these pricks
hard again, we just might stick them up your ass. That’s if
you’re a good girl.”

Lowering her head to his crotch, she sucked his limp
prick into the cool depths of her mouth and mumbled,
“Promises, promises.” Then she giggled again.

John Duncan watched, again, his brother’s cock disappear
into that beautiful, sensuous mouth. He knew he’d have
another hard-on long before she got to his prong.

To be continued

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Dr. Lydia Martin’s intercom buzzed. “Yes?” she said, still looking over a file she had begun.

“Your new patient, Mr. Mullins, is here,” said her receptionist and administrator, Barb. “The one referred by Dr. Jefferson.”

Lydia pushed herself up from her desk and stood behind it. “Send him in,” she said, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her glasses.

Momentarily the heavy wooden door to her office opened and Barb, a pretty, petite redhead, held the door for an early-50’s trimly-built male. He entered tentatively. Lydia remained behind her desk, her hand extended in greeting.

“Mr. Mullins, I’m Dr. Martin. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Brad Mullins. I’m glad to meet you,” said the man as he walked to the desk to shake Lydia’s hand. He was in apparent good physical shape and was well dressed in an Izod golf shirt and gray slacks. He wore black slip-on style dress shoes. Lydia liked his sincere brown eyes right away.

“Take a seat, please,” she said, motioning her patient to the chair in front of the desk. At the same time she seated herself once again behind the massive antique cherry wood desk that was her pride and joy. She had designed the office around the desk, having matching bookcases installed to hold the hundreds of tomes related to her profession of psychology. Also matched in wood and color was a tall, two-door armoire behind her. “I understand Dr. Jefferson suggested you see me.”

“Yes, he did.” Brad Mullins seemed nervous. “He said you are an expert on, uh, on…”

“Deviant sexuality,” said Lydia matter-of-factly. “Yes, I’ve been practicing for 12 years and have specialized in that area for 10 of those years. And I understand you have a fairly unusual fetish.”

“I guess I do. I’ve really never been able to talk to anybody about it before. It’s really embarrassing and Dr. Jefferson was the first person I’ve actually admitted it to. So…I guess he explained it to you, right?”

“Yes, and Mr. Mullins, don’t be embarrassed. Sexual attraction in humans is a very complex thing. Be glad that what you are attracted to is not anything that will get you in legal trouble. That’s the good news. But, I do understand that this has caused you great stress. I would like to discuss your abasiophilia with you at length and understand your particular case better. Then we’ll talk about treatment options.”

Mullins appeared curious now. “That’s what it’s called? There’s a name for it?”

Lydia shifted in her chair and watched Brad Mullins’ face carefully. She knew he was petrified to openly talk about the desires he had kept pent up his whole life. He no doubt considered this his ugly “demon,” the thing that he had never discussed with anybody. These situations were always tricky in the beginning because it took time for her patients to become comfortable enough to spill their guts.

“Yes. Abasiophilia. It is an attraction to people who use wheelchairs, braces, crutches, and so-forth. It’s a paraphilia, which just refers to any abnormal sexual desire. Let’s just put it on the table, OK? Basically, you are attracted to disabled women, as I understand it from Dr. Jefferson. Why don’t you relax and tell me all about it. Start from your earliest memories.”

“Wow. Yes…OK. This is tough, especially because you’re a woman. But that may actually make it easier now that I think about it…I really didn’t feel I could tell all this to a man.”

“Good. Why don’t you go over to my couch there and stretch out. Really try to relax and clear your mind. I’m going to ask you to close your eyes from time to time to really focus.”

Brad Mullins moved to the elegant dark red leather couch and lay down.

“Now…start at the beginning. When do you first recall being aware that you had these desires?”

“When I was about 5 years old, I remember going Anadolu Yakası Fetiş Escort the optician with my mother. She needed new glasses. There was a very pretty lady who worked there and she was crippled. She wore a long leg brace that had white leather bands around her right leg and she walked on crutches. The forearm kind. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes, I do. I know exactly the type you’re referring to. The metal kind with a single upright and arm cuffs below the elbow. Go on.”

“Right. Exactly. And that was the first time I had ever seen those. Well, this woman had polio, I guess. But she walked on those crutches very fast, and she swung herself around the optical shop showing frames to my mother. I thought the white leather on her brace was wonderful and I loved the way she kind of threw her legs a little bit sideways through the crutches as she went. And I remember having an erection right there in the store…the first one I remember…ever. I went up behind her and touched the brace…my mother didn’t see me do it but the lady looked down at me and smiled.”

“She didn’t say anything?” asked Lydia.

“No, because I backed off right away. But she knew I had done it. Wow…I remember that thrill to this day. And I was only five!”

“So what are you attracted to most? Braces?”

“No…actually I think the biggest thing for me is crutches. I really don’t get excited much by women in wheelchairs. It’s the movement of a woman on crutches that gets me more than anything. And…especially if she has one leg shorter than the other one. That will really get me fired up.”

“Is there anything other than disabled women that turns you on?” asked Lydia. “How about feet?”

“Oh my gosh…how did you know?” asked Mullins incredulously.

“Just an educated guess. A great number of men with abasiophilia also have a foot fetish to one degree or another.”

“That would be me. I absolutely love beautiful feet. Not as much as a woman on crutches, but a pretty foot with a nice pedicure is very much on my radar screen.”

“OK. Now, Mr. Mullins…let’s get back to women on crutches. I want you to close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you. Think and focus on your most recent experience now. I don’t mean anything you may have seen on the internet…I mean the most recent disabled woman that has really excited you.”

Brad Mullins felt this was a little odd, but he closed his eyes dutifully and began to think.

“It’s been a while. You know, most disabled people today use wheelchairs. Everything is accessible, or just about. You almost never see people on crutches on the street anymore. But, there was one woman about two years ago that nearly sent me over the edge.”

“Tell me about her. In detail. Describe everything you remember.”

“I was at lunch with a friend of mine…a woman I dated at the time. We’ve broken up since. But we were eating in a nice white-tablecloth place downtown. There was a large table right across from me with about ten people in business suits around it. There were just two women and the rest men. But, one woman was clearly the boss, or at least was in charge of the lunch discussion. She did most of the talking and it was obvious that she had some authority because everybody else was paying careful attention to what she was saying. A couple were even taking notes. It was a round table and she was facing me with her back to the wall. She was very nice looking…probably about 45 or so…red hair…nice figure. She picked up the check just as we were finished with our lunch as well and were about to get up.”

“Then what happened?” With this, Lydia stood quietly and opened the armoire behind her.

“Then the most amazing thing happened. As all the others at her table got up to Anadolu Yakası Gecelik Escort leave she reached down behind her and picked up two forearm crutches that I had not been able to see. They were on the floor against the wall. She got her arms into the cuffs and did some very exciting maneuvering on them as she made her way out from behind the table. They all left then and this woman had the most amazing gait…she had a rhythm that I can’t even describe. Her legs were thin and sort of flaccid. She had on navy blue sling-back shoes…not orthopedic shoes. No braces. But she did have a small build-up on her left shoe…maybe just an inch or so. She sort of half-walked, half-swung on her crutches. She picked her legs up high and they came down in sort of a one-two, one-two, ‘flop’ thing that just drove me crazy. The combination of being an obvious professional, being so well-dressed, in charge…authority figure, you know…and being so very, very crippled just made fireworks go off for me.” Mullins’ eyes were still closed. “My date had to tell me to stop staring,” he continued, clearly excited. An erection had begun to build.

“Is there anything else you remember about the encounter?” asked Lydia.

“Actually, yes. I remember that when she got up and started to move from behind the table she kind of caught one foot on a chair. She seemed stuck for just a second. And the expression on her face was amazing. It was like I could read her mind. She stared down at her leg and she was mad. It was like a showdown between her brain and her leg, and it was, like, “I’m in charge here and I’ll be damned if I’ll allow my muscles to NOT obey.” I’ll always remember that look.

As her patient was talking, Lydia very quietly removed her own forearm crutches from the armoire and slipped them on her arms. She carefully moved her plush leather office chair aside and took a silent swing out from behind the desk. She smiled to herself and looked down at her polio-stricken left leg, nearly four inches shorter than her right. She was wearing a pair of classic penny loafers in two different sizes. The smaller one—a size 4—on her left foot pointed nearly straight down. It dangled freely over the carpet. Her normal right foot, in its size-6 loafer, bore her weight.

Another couple of quick, short swings and she was standing next to the couch where her patient was lying. Lydia’s crutches were gray, and were custom made in one-piece construction. They did not produce the telltale “clicking” that would have tipped Brad Mullins off. She wanted to be a total surprise to him.

“Mr. Mullins, you may open your eyes now,” she said as she stood next to him.

When his eyes opened he gasped. What the…? Is this some kind of bad joke?

“Not at all. Do you think I could fake this?” Lydia pointed at her left leg.

Mullins looked at Lydia’s crippled leg and groaned in amazement.

“No, Mr. Mullins, I’m the real deal. A bona-fide polio survivor. My left leg is 3 and 5/8 inches shorter than my right. I have a build-up for it, and I can walk on it without crutches if I’m wearing a brace. But, it’s easier just to let it hang free and use crutches because my right leg was almost unaffected. What do you think? Am I good therapy for your paraphilia problem?”

“Oh, my sweet heaven,” said Mullins. “This can’t be really happening.”

“Oh, yes it can. And, if you’ll get undressed we’ll have a sex-therapy session to help you relieve some of that sexual tension I see has built up.”

Brad Mullins looked down at the huge mound at his crotch. He then looked up at Dr. Martin, who was unbuttoning her blouse.

“What about her?” asked Mullins, motioning to the door.

“Barb knows never, never to disturb me when I’m in session. We’re very safe. Now…get those Anadolu Yakası Genç Escort pants off. The good doctor is going to administer some special techniques guaranteed to make you feel much better about your big, bad fetish.” Lydia giggled at her own bad joke. “You did come here to feel better about it, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah…oh YEAH!” breathed the patient. He rapidly disrobed and, once naked, helped Lydia get out of her clothes. The woman now standing before him in the nude except for her shoes was truly a fantasy come true. How often he had dreamed of seeing an attractive woman standing naked on crutches. Forearm crutches—his personal favorite.

Brad Mullins sat on the floor and removed Lydia’s left loafer, revealing a very pretty, slightly puffy, foot. Brad caressed it and began kissing her short leg feverishly.

“Hang on, there. Let’s get the other shoe off,” said Lydia. She then flexed her right knee to lower her dangling foot to the floor until it made contact. She stood on the ball of her elevated foot and lifted the other one to Brad. Mullins took its shoe off. This foot was truly beautiful, he thought, with almost perfectly formed toes and nicely pedicured nails. She wore a heavy silver toe ring on her fourth toe—rather unusual, Brad knew.

“Nice feet, Doctor. They are really very nice.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mullins. They’re all yours. Along with the rest of me. We have about 40 minutes left for therapy.”

Lydia straightened her long leg and the tiny arched foot left the ground again. Brad’s penis ached with desire as he put his arms around Lydia and kissed her supple breasts passionately. They fell back on the red leather divan and Brad kissed every inch of Lydia’s body, spending a great deal of time on her thin left leg. He marveled at how its fully-extended foot reached to just above the ankle of her right leg.

All the while Lydia was busily exploring her new patient as well. She loved the fact that he was so turned on by her little leg. It was quite a different scenario than she experienced with most men. She massaged and kneaded Brad and used her tongue on him until he moaned in ecstasy. Then he entered her and began to make love to her very elegantly. Lydia sighed with pleasure. It had been so long!

Dr. Martin rarely came out from behind her desk. Some of her patients had seen her multiple times and did not realize she walked on crutches. It was very important to her to maintain her professional decorum. She felt her lameness and her short leg would be a distraction to many, and perhaps a barrier to open therapeutic discussion for some. But, when Dr. Jefferson had called and mentioned Brad Mullins’ abasiophilia she decided it take a plunge she had fantasized for years. And it had worked. At least, she hoped it had. Brad didn’t seem too concerned about the departure from a real effort to help him deal with his fetish. In fact, maybe this WAS the best therapy after all. She certainly didn’t mind if he didn’t.

They made love for the rest of his appointment time and then the two of them got up and dressed silently.

“There is obviously a conflict of interest here,” said Lydia. “I have a professional dilemma. You came to me to try to put the fires of your fetish out. I just threw gasoline on them.”

“I’d like more therapy, please, Doctor. Maybe a little therapy over dinner Friday night. Then maybe a little more therapy at my place afterward. But, you’re right…the office probably isn’t the best option.”

“You’re on,” grinned Lydia. “Call me.”

“Thank Dr. Jefferson for the referral for me,” returned Brad with a broad smile. “It was absolutely the right thing to do.”

Lydia picked up her crutches and swung to the office door with Brad. She stood in her office as he made his way past Barb’s desk. Her receptionist was surprised to see Dr. Martin personally escort a patient to the door.

“Barb, there’s no charge for Mr. Mullins’ session today,” said Lydia. “And he won’t need follow up appointments, either. I think he’s found the solution to his problem.”

Brad left chuckling to himself as Barb sat looking at Dr. Lydia Martin as if she’d lost her mind.

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