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Subject: {ASSM} MRS JWP 85/? James' Sex Ed - 101(Rom Inc MF MM FF Oral Anal Toys)
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************************* Read Me First *****************************
My erotic fiction stories are for adults only. If you are not at least
twenty one years old, please do not read this story. It contains
explicit sex and is not to be read if you are underage or live where it
is illegal to do so. Some real places are described, but all the
characters and most places in my stories are completely fictional. Any
resemblance to anyone or anything real is completely accidental and
coincidental. Re-post of this story is only permitted if the posting
site is free and non-commercial.
Mrs. James Wentworth Preston (a Pen Name) Copyright 2003
************************ Thank You **********************************
Mrs. James Wentworth Preston - Chapter 85 - James' Sex Ed - 101
*************************** Story Prolog ***************************
My name is James and I'm Justine's husband. I wrote this four part story
about my first sexual awareness and early sex education.
Justine has received reader E-mail requesting that she write about her
sexual beginnings, but she's still thinking about it. She also got
requests for the early sex life of our children (Junior and Maryann) but
they'll have to write about themselves and are still too young to be
objective.
In this first part I tell about my foster Mama and Papa and how they
dealt with my early sexuality. Their 25 year old daughter, Anita,
taught me much more about making love.
Justine edited this and she changed a lot, much to my consternation.
Large parts of it now read like she wrote it, but I am responsible for
it all.
I hope you enjoy it. Parts two, three, and four will follow.
Previous chapters can be found in the archives at ASSTR. Do a SUBJECT
LINE SEARCH in the ASSM section and search on MRS JWP. If you have any
difficulty, send me a note and I'll forward to you some step by step
instructions that Junior wrote. All those options and stuff in ASSTR
are confusing, but Junior's instructions are simple and easy to follow!
******************* Thanks for reading my stories *********************
****************** Mrs. James Wentworth Preston *********************
Mrs. James Wentworth Preston
Chapter 85
James' Sex Ed - 101
I never new my Father. He and Mom were married right after Dad
graduated from college just before he went to Vietnam to fulfill his
ROTC commitment. I was born in an Army hospital in 1960 and Dad got
killed in 1961 without ever seeing me. I once had a photograph of him
in uniform and he was ruggedly handsome in his beret. Mom was beautiful
in the one picture I had but she wasn't able to deal with losing Dad. I
don't remember her either, but the child services people who took care
of me beginning when I was five said she loved me very much. She was on
some anti-depression medication and drank herself to death, leaving me
to foster homes. I was a shy, quiet kid, needing love as I got moved
from one foster family to another. I guess I got love, but mostly I
remember the beatings and spending a lot of time in my bed, crying.
Over the years I learned to shut up and not complain, about anything.
When I was around nine, my foster parents were arrested for drugs and I
was removed by the state child care folks. I was in a home for a while
(where I didn't get beaten but the food was horrible) and then I got
'placed' into my first real family. I remember the date, October 31,
1970, because it was a few days before my tenth birthday and it was
Halloween.
Mr. Anthony DeLuca and his wife, Maria, were my new, wonderful family.
They were first generation American Italian and were in their 40's.
Somehow, someone in child services took a chance placing me there.
Usually older couples without children in their home weren't considered
as foster parents, but the DeLuca's had raised two foster kids along
with their own two, and by then all of them were of-age and out on their
own. I suppose, looking back at it now, that they had a good record as
foster parents and the child custody people, looking at my terrible
history of family placements, felt sorry for me and let the DeLuca's try
parenting me. It was a match made in heaven.
Tony and Marie (Papa and Mama to me) lived atop their grocery store in a
small town in California. Papa had inherited the corner store, and the
acre of land around it (his words), from his parents. Papa was a short
roly-poly guy with a great laugh and always smelled of cigars. Mama was
short too. She was overweight and had huge breasts. They loved me and
I loved them back. Whenever I smell Italian cooking now, my soul
wanders back to Mama's fantastic kitchen. Her spaghetti was, as they
say now, to die for! Meatballs as big as my fists (at that time), pasta
that was hand-made (mine is better and cheaper, she'd say), and sauce
that was made with so much love that no chef could ever duplicate it. I
grew like a weed that had never been watered (Mama's words) and worked
my butt off in the store when I wasn't at school.
I was very shy at school but I was smart. Once I got the hang of it, I
got straight A's. If I got a B, I had hell to pay. Papa would glare at
me and mutter under his breath, refusing to talk to me or let me watch
TV. Mama would wave her big cooking spoon at me and make me do my
homework on the kitchen floor as she cooked.
"James! How could you do this to us! We feed you good, keep you warm,
let you watch TV, and you do *What!* Embarrass us with a stupid B?
This is not acceptable. Papa is so mad, I don't know when he'll talk to
you again. Such shame you bring on our house! Study! Study! Study!
No more TV until you get all A's. Other kids, they're stupid. Let them
get the B's. You! You are our boy! You get A's! All the time!
There's no reason, no excuse for a B. Every marking period I show the
customers how good you are. 'All A's' I say. Now? Shame! Mrs.
Beckers, her Johnny gets one A and she's happy. She asks about you and
I hang my head in shame! James! You must do better. You're not stupid
like her Johnny. You're smart! Now you do your homework and read the
books. Only five more weeks and your report card will be better.
Right?"
She'd look down at me and open her arms and I'd leap into her embrace.
She'd hold me up and swing me around, mashing me against her huge boobs.
Next report card I had all A's again and everything got better. I
figured out quickly how to please Papa and Mama.
Everyday after school, I'd work in the grocery store. At first, I'd
just sweep and clean up. Soon I was stocking shelves and helping decide
what we needed to order from the suppliers. As I got older, they
increased my responsibilities. By the time I was twelve, I was helping
out at the cash register and doing the entire grocery order every week.
Papa still did the meat order and Mama did the produce and dairy
ordering. In the summer before my thirteenth birthday, I began to do
all the ordering, except for the meat. At the end of the summer, before
school started, we received a strange delivery from Montgomery Wards.
"Papa, there's a box in the backroom," I said, standing in front of his
desk in the store office. "It's from Monkey-Wards (slang at that time
for the great retailer, now defunct).
"What is it Jimmy?" he asked, not looking up from his ledgers.
"I don't know Papa," I replied, shuffling my feet, not accustomed to my
new tall height, caused by adolescent hormones.
"I guess you'd better open it up and see what it is," he said. "But
don't rip the box. We may have to send it back."
"Yes Papa," I replied, turning and running into the office couch arm,
awkward as hell at twelve and a half.
I went out and used pliers to pull the big staples from the 4' X 6'
carton. I finally got the side loose and pulled it open to discover a
beautiful red two wheeler bicycle. Exactly the kind I'd been looking at
(for over a year!) in the catalog. I stood there, stupidly, staring at
the bike until Papa and Mama move up beside me.
"It's a bicycle!" Papa exclaimed.
"We don't sell bikes," Mama said.
"I guess we'll have to send it back," Papa replied.
I turned and looked at Papa, my lower lip quivering (so he told me
later) and said, "No! It's for me! Please? Can I have it? All the
other kids have bikes. Can't I have one too?"
"Well, I don't know," Papa said. "You get a bike and you'll be running
around with all those stupid kids!"
"No Tony," Mama replied. "My James won't do that. He'll just be able
to come home quicker from school and help more with the store. Won't
you James?"
I dumbly nodded yes and Papa said, "Okay, but if I see a B on the report
card, it goes straight back!"
Joyously I leapt up and he hugged me, though I was taller than him at
that time. I put together my bike and put the empty carton way high up
on the rafters in the backroom, in case we had to return it. It sat
there for years never needed, except to remind me of how wonderful it
all was to have my own bike. It was the bicycle of my dreams and I knew
I had been rewarded for my hard work. I'd learned to ride at the
orphan's home, but the bikes there belonged to 'everybody' and quickly
got beat up because no one took care of them. My new bicycle was
beautiful and I spent a lot of my free time keeping it oiled, sparkling,
and well maintained.
In the early 1970's there was a real estate boom. Papa's land was now
very, very valuable. Of course I was oblivious to it then, riding my
new bike everywhere (when I could). Papa's Father had bought the land
cheap in the thirties and, in the fall, Papa sold a corner off to a
fellow to build a drugstore. Mama was mad about it and it cast a cloud
over our happy home for a while, but Papa knew what he was doing. He
banked the money and two years later used it to build a house for us and
a new store.
But I'm getting ahead of my story. As I approached my teenage years I
began to get hard-ons.
I used my bicycle to go to and from school, hurrying home after classes
to run the cash register and tend the store while Mama started dinner.
Business was good and they had hired an afternoon cashier lady to help
out. Mostly the days were sunny, but sometimes it would rain and I'd
get soaked as I rode home from school on my bike.
"You go in the office and take off those wet things. I'll get you some
dry clothes," Mama would tell me.
I'd go in the office, Papa was usually working on the books, and quietly
take off my wet shirt, sneakers, and pants. I'd sit on the couch in my
briefs and look at the various magazines and grocery trade publications
until Mama came down with dry clothes. This happened quite a bit in the
fall until one day I discovered some magazines with *naked* women in
them! Lying right there on the table by the couch. Papa told me years
later that they'd been there all along and I just didn't see them, but I
sure did then. I immediately got an erection, tenting my jockey shorts.
Mama came in, handed me my dry clothes and shoes, and left. I dressed
and went out to work the register and help out, as usual.
Needless to say, I saw those naked women everyday that it rained, and it
was a rainy fall that year. At night, visions of women danced in my
head and I learned to play with myself, jerking off silently in my bed
before sleeping.
One rainy day, as I sat on the couch in my tented briefs staring at the
sexy pictures, Papa said to me, "You got a hard-on?"
"Huh?" I said, aghast.
"Those pictures! They get you excited?" he queried. "Don't lie to me,
boy!"
"Yes Papa," I admitted. "They do."
"Good! Come over here!"
I went around his big desk and stood next to him. He opened a drawer
and pulled out some more magazines. He opened one and showed it to me.
I'll never forget that picture. A full breasted women, naked with her
legs spread wide apart, sucking on a man's cock. I was truly
overwhelmed. Later he told me my mouth hung open with lust.
"Makes your pecker hard, huh?" he laughed.
I couldn't say anything, just stare at my first pornographic photograph.
"You jerk off?" Papa asked. I didn't know what he meant and stood
dumbfounded. "Do you play with yourself? You know, masturbate?"
I figured out what he meant and nodded, unable to speak.
"Show me!" he said.
I didn't believe what he wanted. He reached over and jerked down my
underwear and repeated, "Go ahead. Stroke yourself."
I was pretty dumb at a lot of this sex stuff, but I knew then what to
do. I grabbed my hard dick tight in my fist and pulled up and down on
it for all it was worth.
He watched me for a few minutes and chuckled, "Son. You're going to
hurt yourself if you do it that way. Let me help you."
He took my hand and spit on it, then wrapped it around my little cock
and began to move it up and down. I got it idea right away and was soon
happily whacking off. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a towel
and laid it over the drawer, right under my dick. Then he turned the
magazine page to a photo of the same woman getting cum spurted into her
open mouth.
That did it for me as I spurted onto the towel he'd placed there for me.
"Feels good, huh?" he said with a laugh. He gave me the towel and
swatted me on the butt, telling me to go wait for Mama to bring down my
dry clothes. "You use that towel to cum into now, hear me son?"
I took it to bed with me that night and used it. I jerked of nightly
and didn't realize for months that Mama secretly washed my 'cum towel'
in the weekly laundry.
It seemed to rain all that week and Papa showed me raunchy photographs,
getting me to cum onto a towel. When it didn't rain, Mama told me to go
into the office anyway. She'd decided she wanted me to wear dressy
pants and shoes to work the cash register, not my school jeans and
sneakers. Now it was daily that I spent some time with Papa jerking off
to his nasty magazines. One day he showed me a jar of Vaseline.
"This is better than spit," he said.
He put some Vaseline in my hand, I grabbed my cock, and jerked off
looking at a lewd girl getting fucked and sucking a cock at the same
time. A few weeks before Halloween I got home from school and went into
the office for my work clothes and found that Papa wasn't there. Mama
was sitting at his desk and my clean clothes were laying on the couch.
"Papa had to go sign some papers downtown and he wanted me to help
you,." Mama said.
I didn't know what she meant so I quickly stripped off my shirt,
sneakers, and jeans.
But, before I could dress again, Mama said, "Come over here James. I
got a new book."
She held up a hardcover book with a naked woman on the cover. I
immediately went over around the desk and stood by her. She set the
book down and opened the page to the first set of photographs. The
first photo was of a older women clad in sexy bedroom clothes kissing a
young man. The next was of her feeling his crotch while he felt her
covered breasts. By the fourth page she was naked to the waist,
kneeling and sucking his cock. My erection was pulsing and Mama said,
handing me the Vaseline jar, "Go ahead. Papa said that you needed to do
this everyday."
I grabbed the grease and jerked off right in front of my Mama, she
saying, "Good James. That's a good boy!" as I jetted my cum into the
towel.
Thereafter, I was helped by either my Papa or my Mama for many months
with my wet fantasies each day, weekends included. I don't know where
Papa and Mama got their pornography, but in the early seventies it
wouldn't have been rare. I didn't tell my schoolmates about my
'assisted' masturbation. Mama had warned me that 'those government
people would take you away if they found out,' and that certainly kept
my mouth shut. I was healthy, safe, and very happy.
Papa and Mama hadn't adopt me, at my request. They became my legal
guardians. Six months after I moved in with them, they'd asked me if I
wanted to keep my name, James Wentworth Preston, or if I wanted to
change it to DeLuca. Over the years, in various homes or with foster
families, all the photos and things of my real Mom and Dad were lost.
However, all the child welfare people kept telling me how much my
parents had loved me, giving me some feelings of being wanted. So when
they asked me, I told Mama and Papa that I wanted to keep my name.
I was a grade behind at school because of my constant relocating and
that my birthday was late in the year. So when I had my thirteenth
birthday, I was in seventh grade. Nearly all the other kids would be
thirteen sometime after me in the winter, spring, or summer of 1974. At
the age of thirteen I was a idiot teenager, very shy, had bad acne, and
couldn't hardly choke out a 'Hi' to any girl, anywhere. At the store it
was 'Yes Ma'am. No Ma'am. Right over here Miss.' Mostly older women
came in the store and they didn't bother me much. Once in a while their
daughters came in too. That didn't bother me much either, until Tess
came in.
I didn't know her name for a couple of years, but she definitely opened
my eyes. I was kneeling on the floor, putting overstock cans of beets
on the bottom shelf when I heard a nearby rustle. Looking up, I saw a
stunning girl, about my age, smiling down at me. She looked down. I
gawked back up. I noticed her dress, the one that rustled! From her
knees it ran up across her round hips, over her flat stomach, bounced up
and over her breasts, and to her neck and grinning face. It seemed to
sparkle in the sunlight from the front window.
"Honey? Time to go," someone called across the store.
"Yes, Mom," she replied and turned back to smile at me.
We stared into each other's eyes for a moment (a minute? An hour?) and
she grinned at me again. Then she did something that is fixed in my
mind forever. She hunched out her belly and laughed as her short skirt
billowed out and showed me her skimpy red panties. I peered up
stupefied, as she dashed off toward the front of the store. The memory
of those twin towers of young lush female thighs meeting at the
'forbidden spot' under her bright red silk undies is still delicious.
At the first opportunity I asked Papa if he had any pictures of women in
red panties. He wanted to know why and I told him of the girl's panties
I'd seen. He told me that he'd see what he could do. If he ever did
find them, I don't remember. I do remember that day because it was the
first time Papa got me off.
"Let me help you today Son. You look like you need it!"
I expect that most guys know about having someone else jerk them off, so
to you women out there, I'll just say it was fantastic! You'll have to
trust me on this; my Papa's hand on my cock was unbelievable! Less than
a half dozen strokes and I was spurting thick ropes of cum all over the
towel. I didn't think much about red panties after that and Mama began
to 'help' me with my masturbation too. She got me off too, but Papa was
better. I guess it's one of those 'guy' things.
Business was good at the store that spring and summer. I didn't see any
more red panties, or cared to. Papa had gotten a liquor sales permit,
the smart sucker, and we now sold beer. That kept me busy. I got to
see how local folks got caught up in drinking and many wasted their
money, and lives, on the legal drug. I also got to see 'racy' women,
'hot' women as they came in for beer. I don't remember getting turned
on by them, just that I knew that I never wanted to be with such women.
The day after the fourth of July, we'd been very busy up to and through
the holiday, Papa and I jerked off together. He had a nice dick and we
both got wild talking to each other about the sexy guys and gals in the
porno magazines. We happily spurted into the same cum towel. By the
time August rolled around, I was jerking him off as he did me. His cock
felt so hot, so firm in my hand. I just loved getting him to cum, while
he was making me spurt too. When Mama and I were together for
masturbation, she opened her dress top and let me feel her breasts while
she jerked me off. It was a glorious summer and fall.
Near my fourteenth birthday, I got my first blowjob. Papa and I were
just getting started, looking at a sexy book of men and women eating
cocks, when he turned me and sucked my cock into his mouth. The feeling
was exquisite. Within a week I was returning the favor. I had no idea
that cum was supposed to taste bad. I licked, sucked, and slurped as
much of Papa's cum as possible, as he did mine.
A nurse at school had told me (and another hundred or so other teens)
that sweets rot our teeth and cause acne. I wised up and quit eating so
much candy. My pimples mostly went away and I felt better about my
appearance. I lost a lot of my baby fat and the good exercise at the
store helped develop my muscles (tossing around cartons of caned goods),
as well as my constant bike riding. Once a week or so, Mama had me
deliver small grocery orders by bicycle and I got good exercise seeing
parts of town I hadn't been in before.
Papa went to some sort of builders convention for a week and Mama showed
me that she knew how to suck cock as well as Papa. Never had I felt
such intense pleasure as at the lips of Mama. I wanted to return the
pleasure, but she only offered her mammoth breasts for my caresses.
That didn't last long. By the end of the week, she'd showed me her hot
pussy and taught me how to please her. If I had thought Papa's cum
tasted good, Mama's was even better! To this day I love to eat women,
the juicer the better.
After New Year in 1975, contractors broke ground for a new home for us
and an new *supermarket* to replace our current home's first floor
store. Papa's dream of a 'modern' retail grocery store was coming true.
It was a hectic winter and spring, but we made do. Our new house, a one
story brick three bedroom, two bath home, was being built on the acre
lot's opposite corner to the old house and store. The new store would
be built next to the old one, which would be demolished to become a
parking lot. Because of the timing, (we couldn't make the old store
into parking until the new store was built, and we'd immediately need
parking for the new store!), Papa had the whole side of that street,
around where the new store would be, cleared for parking. It was a huge
mess, but Papa's parking lot was an ingenious money maker. He foresaw
the need for parking in urban areas and eventually the gravel lot became
a gated and leased asphalt parking area, worry free money makers. As
Papa and I painted the parking lines, he'd quote to me the fees he was
charging, making me multiply out in my head the dollars each parking
spot would earn monthly.
I had outgrown my bike and got a new one, a 28 incher! (All A's were
still adorning my report card.) I went with Papa to the orphan's home
and gave them my old bike. Daily oral pleasure or assisted masturbation
was the rule, be it with Papa or Mama, until one morning before I was to
leave for school.
Papa took me aside and explained that he needed relief. Mama wasn't
feeling well and couldn't have sex with him. I happily sucked Papa off
as he sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee. After a few days of
this, he began to give me a before-school sucking too. He'd open my
jeans and pull out my dick. I'd lean back against the kitchen table and
Papa could quickly get me to cum with his mouth. Sometimes Mama would
suck me and I'd return the oral pleasure. Within two weeks, morning
blowjobs or pussy lickings were daily happenings, along with the after
school office sexual pleasures. I never needed to search for sexual
thrills, but Mama and Papa had me tell them about any girl that had
caught my eye. Our porno inspired sex now included any hot fourteen
year old fantasies that I had.
One Saturday afternoon in the spring, while Papa and I looked at the
picture books and playing with each other, I asked him to show me a good
picture of a naked woman displaying her open pussy. As he looked though
his drawer of books and magazines, he asked me why I wanted to see them.
I told him that some school mates had been talking about girls and this
one guy said that he felt a girl's clit deep inside her vagina. He'd
said he put his finger inside her and could feel it, and that he was
going to do it again with her, right after school.
"The clit isn't in the vagina, is it?" I finally asked.
"No it's not James," Papa said and showed me in a picture exactly where
the clitoris was located. He assured me that all women, and girls, were
the same and that my schoolmate didn't know what he was talking about.
"Just stupid kids that don't know what they're talking about," he'd
said. "You're smart and you know better, but don't you go getting smart
with them. Just keep your mouth shut and let their Mamas and Papas
explain it to them. Don't you try and correct them."
Papa reached into a desk drawer and pulled out his pistol.
"You know what this is Jimmy?"
"Yes Papa. That's your gun."
"What kind is it?"
"It's a Smith and Wesson revolver, six shot. 38 caliber. Snubnose."
"You ever play with it?"
"Oh no! Never," I was shocked that Papa might think that I'd ever do
something that he'd explicitly forbidden. "The only times I've touched
it is when I help you clean it."
"And why aren't you allowed to touch my gun?"
"I'm not old enough."
"That's right. But you're ready now. Tomorrow morning, before church,
we'll go shoot. It's time you learned."
On the firing range, the actual shooting of the pistol only took five or
ten minutes, but the instruction on safety and proper range procedures
took nearly an hour. Papa was an excellent shot and taught me well. In
addition, he told me how some folks lie about the stuff they do.
"You might find that someone wants to brag about how good they shoot a
gun, but, because you know better, you'll understand yourself that
they're lying. Don't confront them, let them live with their
foolishness. You may want to speak up because others are seriously
listening to this liar, but don't. If anybody believes them, it's their
problem, not yours. Knowledge is very important and everyone must learn
to distinguish between what's true, and what isn't. You understand?"
"I guess so Papa," I said uncertainly.
"Let me put it another way," he said, driving us back from the range in
his beat-up Ford, "You work hard to get A's. You study, you do your
homework, you pay attention in class. You learn like you're supposed
to. You work at it. Now suppose you have a school test and someone
doesn't know the answers. They try to look on your paper to get the
right answers because they know that you're smart and do your homework.
Is it right to let them have your answers that you've worked so hard to
learn?"
"No Papa, it isn't."
"That's right, it's wrong. It's actually wrong in two ways. If you
give someone the answers, their papers would show them as smart as you,
which is a lie and it lessens the value of your own preparation. And
your pride at knowing your lessons is a lie because you just gave away
that which you were supposedly so proud of, that you worked so hard to
learn. Understand?"
"I think I do Papa."
"Good! Don't ever lie and don't confront liars, unless specifically
asked by your Mama or me, your teacher, or other authority, like a
policeman. Kids who brag usually don't know what they're talking about
and fools who listen to them deserve to stay ignorant. Anyone that
knows anything worthwhile doesn't give it away, they sell it. That's
how grown-ups make their living. You see?"
I replied, "You mean because I know how to run a register and order for
the store, it's worth something. If I give it away, everyone will learn
and then it won't be valuable anymore."
"That's it son!" Papa ruffled my hair. "I think you understand," he
added as he parked in our new gravel parking lot behind the store/house.
"Let's go tell Mama how much you learned. Maybe she'll have a treat for
us."
Papa and I cleaned the revolver and put it away before we went to see
Mama in their bedroom. At Papa's urging, I told Mama about shooting the
pistol, the liar at school, and how Papa had told me to keep my
knowledge to myself, except to them and my teachers.
"That's good James," Mama praised me. "I'm so proud of you that I want
you to learn a new sex thing."
As Papa pulled off his shirt and pants, Mama tossed off her bed covers
to display her nude body. I'd played with her boobs before and licked
her pussy, but the sight of her naked body was a shock to me. Though
she was overweight, I was immediately aroused and got a hard-on. Mama
felt it in my jeans and told me to take off my clothes like Papa.
Papa explained that I was going to have intercourse with Mama and that
he'd show me how first. He got on top of her and they kissed for a long
time. Then he kissed her breasts, making Mama squirm with delight. He
moved down between her legs and licked her pussy, making her cum several
times (I'd done that myself and knew how Mama sounded when she came).
He knelt up and Mama leaned forward to suck him until his dick was very
hard. Then he knelt down again and showed me where his stiff prick was
to enter Mama.
"You hold my cock Jimmy and make sure it goes in right," he told me.
I did and Papa and Mama made love slowly with lots of kissing and
affection. I stood next to them and Papa and Mama reached over to play
with my stiff penis as they made love.
After a five minutes or so, Papa cried, "I'm cumming! I'm cumming Marie
darling!"
Although 'making love' was new to me, I knew what 'cumming' meant. Papa
jerked again and again into Mama, spurting his cum. Mama and he cuddled
for a while until he lifted off of her to again kneel up between her big
thighs. I could see their glistening white love juices leaking from her
vagina. Mama's chest still heaved and she had a well-loved glow about
her, along with a big smile.
Papa proudly turned to me and said, "Jimmy! That's how a well fucked
woman should look."
That was the first time I heard the work 'fuck' in our home, but knew
exactly what he meant. I wasn't shocked when Papa leaned down and
licked up his cum, as well as Mama's cum and juices. I'd sucked him and
Mama before and wasn't the least surprised.
I was surprised when he backed off and waved his hand at Mama's pussy,
telling me, "Go get the rest Jimmy."
Happily, I crawled between Mama's fat thighs and licked up their cum,
delving deep into her vagina to get all the juices.
"Suck my clittie too," Mama sighed, holding my head to move it up to her
engorged clitoris.
Wanting to please her, I happily sucked her clit and lapped up her
leaking juices. Mama was still so excited that she quickly came,
trapping my head between her strong thighs. When she relaxed she pulled
me up to kiss.
She felt my hard cock against her belly and laughed, "My little Jimmy
has a hard-on and needs somewhere to put it!"
Dad helped me get my cock into Mama and coached me while I had my first
intercourse. It was fantastic! Mama and Papa knew that I had a strong
libido and let me screw Mama and cum three times before she finally
asked that I stop to let her rest.
Papa was so proud of me that we made a pact that every Sunday morning
we'd shoot the pistol and then come home to have sex with Mama in bed,
but only after we cleaned his revolver. Mama's attendance at church
changed from Sunday morning to late afternoon after that and I became an
excellent shot, as well as a good 'little fucker.'
Over the rest of the spring and summer, I learned about fucking. Papa
showed me rubbers, telling me I didn't need them with Mama (she wasn't
fertile), but if I ever had sex with someone else, I should use them. I
had to practice using one with Mama to ensure I knew how to put one on,
and Papa had me put one in my wallet in case I ever needed it. Once in
a while he'd check my wallet to make sure I was prepared, but there
never was any need. Girls in my class (eighth grade - the were mostly
only thirteen) seemed so stupid that it wasn't a problem.
That fall as I became fifteen, the new supermarket and house were
completed. We moved the store first and then our stuff into the house.
It took us several weeks to move and we were all sad as the old
store/house was being readied to be demolished. Mama's and Papa's
daughter, Anita, visited to see the demolition and to walk around her
childhood home one last time.
I had never seen Anita before and she was beautiful. She was a younger
version of Mama and it was in love at first sight. She'd married and
left home six years before, going to the East coast with her husband,
but had been divorced the previous spring. I told Mama, as she sucked
me off, how much the twenty five year old Anita excited me. I had a big
cum and Mama swallowed it all.
In celebration of our new home and store, Papa took us all out to dinner
(at a local Italian restaurant that wasn't as good as Mama's cooking).
We drank some wine (a family requirement) and laughed at all the wild
stories Anita told of the old home site. She spoke of her older
brothers, little Tony and Angelo, the adopted son, and their growing up
together and working in the store. I listened quietly, learning that
they too knew of all the hidden places in the old building and all the
same troublesome customers I'd experienced. She once mention Luke, the
other adopted Son who'd died in Vietnam, and Mama cried. Anita had a
wet tears and Papa too had wet eyes. She was careful not to mention him
again.
Back at home, in the new *wonderful* brick house, we sat around the
living room and talked about old times, new times, and the future. Papa
was full of wise wisdom and Mama kept teasing Papa, Anita, and me. When
Mama went to change into something 'more comfortable', Papa got out some
Private Label Chianti and poured us all tumblers of the delicious stuff.
Over the years, he'd made friends with all the California vintners,
especially the Italians. There was a special group, of which Papa was
one, that shared the particularly good wine, especially the Chianti.
Mama was surprised at Papa's use of the wine, but not as surprised as I
was of Mama's sexy nightgown and see-through wrap. We laughed some more
over Mama's stories of crazy customers until Anita excused herself to
get 'comfortable' too.
She returned wearing only a black baby-doll (I learned the name later)
and matching panties. She sat opposite me next to Papa on the couch,
sipping her Chianti and laughing at Papa's and Mama's stories. Papa and
her seemed comfortable together and I wasn't concerned when Anita's hand
rested on Papa's lap or when she'd lean over and kissed Papa after a
happy memory. She looked stunning to me with her bulging breasts and
slim thighs. When she laughed, her legs would part and I could see the
crotch of her tight black underwear over her pussy. That I had a hard-
on wasn't unnoticed by the family.
Mama yawned big several times and got up, excusing herself, saying she
had to go to bed. She gave me and Papa big sloppy kisses and took Anita
with her to her new bedroom, telling us she had something to show her
daughter before she went to sleep.
Papa told me to sit where Anita had sat, next to him. I moved over and
he filled our tumblers from a second bottle of the excellent Italian
table wine. He carefully told me that Anita had been their youngest
(which I knew) and that they had the same 'close' relationship as he and
Mama did with me now. I wasn't sure what he was trying to say and
wanted to know more, but Anita returned.
She looked flushed and excited. Her nipples on her big boobs stuck out
and she had a glistening sheen around her lips. Papa stood and said he
was going to bed and left to join Mama. Anita sat next to me and asked
for more wine. I got the bottle and filled her glass, then sat back. I
had no idea what to do. The beautiful Anita, nearly naked in her skimpy
nightie, sat right up against me. My hard-on throbbed and I had no idea
how to keep from embarrassing myself in front of this twenty five year
old beauty.
She leaned close to me and cooed, "Jimmy! Mama said that you're a good
lover. Would you like to make love with me?"
I could smell Mama on her and realized then that she'd licked Mama
before she'd come out from her bedroom. In a flash Papa's words came
back to me and I realized that they'd been intimate with her, just as
they had with me. Remembering how Papa had made love to Mama, and how
I'd practiced doing the same, I kissed Anita, opening my mouth and
tonguing her hotly.
I was thrilled when she returned my french kisses with ardent vigor. We
kissed lustfully and embraced tightly, lost in the sexy feeling. She
was hot and wild. Before I knew what was happening, my pants were open
and my cock was free in her hot hands. She twisted her big tits against
my muscled chest as she jerked me off.
"Oh God!" I gasped. "I'm cumming!"
She giggled and quickly dropped down and engulfed my cock with her wet
mouth. She didn't need to suck or anything as I immediately exploded,
jetting my cum into her mouth. After she licked off all the cum from my
still hard cock, she lifted up and kissed me. I could taste my cum, but
that wasn't new to me.
"Mama said you were quick to cum, but she said you stayed hard! And
it's true!" she laughed, stroking my hard-on. "Let's go to bed! I want
you to suck and fuck me, just like you do Mama!"
That night was a miracle for me. My step-sister took me around the
world. She fucked me, sucked me, and loved me all night. She told me
what to do and then showed me how it was done. I flooded her pussy with
cum (No condoms needed, she was on the pill!), spurted time and again
into her mouth, and (a first) had me fuck her ass. When I got soft and
she got tired, we slept until I awoke again, my now hard cock deep in
her throat. She rode me, bouncing until I jetted my cum. She knelt as
I fucked her from behind. She propped her ass up on pillows as I fucked
her nearly straight down. She sucked me in the shower and then bent
over the toilet as I screwed her ass. She was a fantastic lover. She
gave me advanced lessons in pussy licking (Eat my asshole!) and showed
me how to fuck sideways, from behind and from below. I was totally 'In
Love.'
In the morning, Mama and Papa came into my bedroom just after I'd cum
into Anita again, laying atop her, pledging my love forever. They
laughed and told me I was just 'in Lust, not 'in Love'. Papa picked
Anita up and disappeared while Mama lay on the bed in her place,
mouthing my cock and getting my dick hard to 'Do her like I had Anita.'
I showed Mama everything Anita had taught me and she gurgled like how I
supposed a lusty slut might sound while I fucked her ass.
It was a school day but Mama had called the school, telling them I was
needed to help with preparations in the new supermarket opening. My
attendance record was near perfect for the past few years and there was
no problem. We didn't open for two more days and we all fucked and
sucked, all day, each day. Papa and Anita would make love on the couch
while I ate Mama as she sat in the easy chair. Mama would suck Papa as
he sat in his kitchen chair while I screwed Anita as she leaned over the
kitchen table. When Papa and I couldn't get a hard-on, Anita and Mama
would be together, often sucking each other on the couch or living room
carpet.
I learned that Mama and Papa hadn't done anything sexual with the boys,
thinking that society would educate them about sex. But when Anita got
raped (called date rape today) by a foolish high school classmate, Papa
made a big issue out of it. Papa wanted to shoot him, but the police
chief, one of Papa's friends, convinced him that a personal apology from
the teenage kid and a new car for Anita from the kid's daddy's auto
dealership, would make the situation okay. Papa agreed, with the
proviso that the kid would leave town and not come back. He went to a
private military school and never did publicly return. Years later, he
too was killed in Vietnam, some say by his own troops, shot in the back
as loudmouthed, cowardly lieutenants often were at that time.
Papa asked me to do something he'd never asked before. He wanted me to
fuck him in the ass. Mama caressed me, getting me hard, and Anita
played with Papa, fingering his butt with Vaseline When I fucked Papa's
ass, it was unbelievable. Anita sucked Papa's cock and Mama kissed and
caressed me as I spurted lots of hot cum up his butt. The next day,
again with the help of Mama and Anita, he screwed my ass. Papa was
gentle and very loving. He was an excellent lover!
I know that I've always said that Doctor Steve was my first male lover
back in college, but I reveal here for the first time that it was my
guardian Father. We never were romantic, but the feeling of a hot
clasping asshole or a stiff cock rocking over my excited prostate was
then, and is now, very sexy.
Anita, although she was over ten years older than me, took me 'under her
wing', so to speak, and we became real buddies. She explained to me a
lot of things about sex that I needed to know. She explained how guys
got hot fast and often wanted to get off fast, whereas women get warmed
up slower and preferred, usually, long, slow loving. She also used a
medical book to explain the prostate and showed me, using lubricating
jelly (not Vaseline) how to find it in my rectum. She also told me
about the G-spot and patiently let me feel inside her vagina until I
found it. When she found that I had never had a date, or been with a
girl besides her and Mama, she insisted that I take her out on a date.
She and I decided on where to go for dinner and then onto a movie. She
made me call the restaurant for reservations and check the theater
times. Anita told that I should *never* wait until the last minute to
make a date, that even if the girl wasn't busy and wanted to go out,
she'd probably lie, saying she was busy because she didn't want me to
think she hadn't a date or was just sitting around waiting for me to
call. She gave me ten cents and made me go to the pay phone outside to
call her and ask her out. She helped me pick out my clothes and then
told me to "take a shower, dress, and then, at the agreed upon time, go
outside and knock on the door, just like picking up a real date." She
left some money on the dresser and insisted that I would have to pay.
I felt pretty dumb knocking on my own front door to 'pick up' my date,
but Papa played along, welcoming me into my date's home and chatting
with me as I nervously sat on the couch. When Anita came into the
living room, Papa coached me to stand and tell her how lovely she
looked. "Girls like that kind of stuff," Papa told me. He also
instructed me to hold the car door for my date, as well as restaurant
doors and chairs.
Anita and I had a good time and, even though she had to drive Papa's
car, we kissed and held hands. Back at the house, me still being the
gentleman, I took her to the door and thanked her for a wonderful
evening. She kissed me gently on the cheek and invited me in. (I don't
know where I'd have gone if she hadn't!) Inside, Mama and Papa were in
their bedroom, leaving me alone with my date. Anita got us some glasses
of water and we sat on the couch. That's when she showed me how to
'make out'.
I suppose every teenager knows about swollen lips, but it was my first
time. Anita finally had to explain how I had to take the lead if we
were to move on to 'petting'.
"If you make out for a long time like we did, the girl probably likes
you and you should be a little aggressive. Remember, if she says no,
that means stop! Immediately! If she doesn't protest, kiss down her
neck or nibble a little behind her ears, that drives most girls wild.
Just take it slow and tease her."
I did take it slow and it was nearly an hour of making out and petting
before she showed me how to feel her up. We both broke into giggles
when I tried to get her bra off and she made me practice unhooking her
(by feel, around her back) five times. She was wearing garters and my
fumbling there made us laugh again. We discussed blowjobs, pussy
eating, and 'going all the way'. After nearly two hours our clothes were
scattered and she'd sucked me and I'd eaten her.
When I fell off of the narrow couch, she laughed and stood up, telling
me, "to hell with this! Let's go into the bedroom and fuck!"
It was a glorious training session for me and I'll forever be thankful
for Anita's wise instruction in the arts of love.
Sadly, within a week, Anita was gone back to the East coast and her job.
Mama, Papa and I worked hard at the new store, struggling to fill the
new shelves as we tried to understand what our customer's needed and
expected from the new supermarket. I had to go back to school and was
only a little sad when I came home one day to find that all that was
left of our old home was an empty basement. It was quickly torn up and
filled to become more new parking (the new drugstore next to it paid
gladly for the privilege to label ten spaces for his store at Papa's
price).
Something had happened to the girls in my class. They were fourteen now
(I was nearly fifteen) and they seemed to have all grown breasts. Along
with them, they seemed to decide that cock teasing was the best way to
handle their ragging hormones. Mama and Papa took care of my urges,
morning, afternoon, and, now, at night before bedtime. We sucked each
other and fucked each other, keeping my lust at bay. Once Mama
complained that they'd 'created a monster', but she still happily spread
her legs, her ass, and opened her mouth for my overcharged lust. Papa
and her traded off taking care of me and, by the end of the year, I was
well educated lover for both women and men.
Our new supermarket had four checkout lanes and several of the women
Mama and Papa hired seemed to think that I was fair game for their lust.
I honestly confessed all to Mama and Papa and the lusty girls either
quit teasing me or left to find employment elsewhere. One exception was
Lois. She couldn't seem to stop teasing me and Papa had to finally fire
her, right in the middle of a busy afternoon. As I found out later, she
and Mama had a tryst going and Papa was ignorant of it. Mama was really
upset and Papa had to finally agree that I should fix the problem.
"Son," he told me the next afternoon in the office after he'd sucked me,
and I him, "you need to go visit Lois."
"Yes Papa," I said automatically. "You mean the lady you fired?"
"That's right. Your Mama teased her with stories of what a good boy you
were and she's desperate for you. I want you to go over to her house
and make love with her. Will you do that? For me and Mama?"
"Sure Papa, if you think it's best," I replied.
"Good son. Your Mama will give you the information you need."
A few days later Mama gave a bag of groceries to deliver.
"These are for Lois. Here's her address. It's just over a few blocks.
You know where it is?"
"Yes Mama."
"Besides the groceries, she may want you to make love with her. Is that
okay with you?"
"Yes Mama. Whatever you want."
"Okay Jimmy, but you tell me if you don't like it or don't want to be
with her again. Okay?"
"Yes Mama."
She leaned over and gave me a sweet kiss, "Then go ahead. When you get
back I want to know all about it. Alright?"
"Yes Mama," I said as I took the bag of groceries and left on my bike.
I rode over to Lois' house, set my bike by the garage, and rang the door
bell. She let me in and we went to her kitchen. She was wearing a
thick cotton, fluffy robe. She took the groceries and set them on the
counter. Lois turned and told me that I was the most beautiful boy
she'd ever seen and just had to see all of me. She pushed off her robe,
leaving her standing naked in the middle of her kitchen floor, and began
to undress me.
Lois was in her mid-thirties and divorced. She had a nice body and was
starved for sex. We kissed and made out, rubbing our naked bodies
against each other. She dropped to her knees and sucked me. Within
seconds I exploded in her mouth. She seemed sad until she realized that
I was still hard. She pulled me into her bedroom and we fell across her
bed. I loved her up like I'd done Mama, and how Anita had taught me,
until she was delirious with passion. When I left her nice titties and
sucked her clit, she screamed with joy. Before she could catch her
breath, I was on her and in her, fucking her fast and hard. She yelled
and hollered, cumming like crazy.
I suppose I should have left then, but I was used to hours of sex with
Mama and Papa. I foolishly assumed that all women expected lots of sex
and I really gave it to Lois. I cuddled her limp body, teasing her
nipples and fingering her pussy. When she came to her senses and cooed
in pleasure, I slipped down and ate her juicy pussy again. Lois cried
her pleasure while I sucked and licked her. Her cum was thin and runny,
but I was not deterred.
I pushed her to my prick and she sucked happily. I fully expected her
to drink my cum, but she pulled off awkwardly when I came, getting most
of my jism on her face. She seemed a little upset until I licked it all
off her face and chest.
I was hard again and fucked her, this time letting her ride atop of me.
She loved it! She came again and again until she couldn't take any
more. She fell off to my side and I cuddled her. I was still hard and
rolled Lois over. I pulled her up onto her hands and knees, over her
complaints about 'what was going on' and 'what was I doing to her', and
entered her from behind. I began to stroke her slippery, tight pussy
with my fifteen year old cock. To this day I'll never know for sure,
but something really strange happened.
"My Ass!" Lois whined. "Fuck my ass you nasty boy!"
I was a little surprised at her request. She'd not done anything but
mostly moan since she'd told me the kitchen earlier that she wanted to
see all of me. When I made love with Papa or Mama, or Anita, they
always told me how nice I was licking them, or sucking them, or fucking
then. Lois hadn't said anything, up till then. And she wasn't being
nice. She was demanding more! I somehow immediately understood the
situation and that I could do anything with her. She was willing!
Demanding! She *wanted* it! My cock! And I gave it to her. But good!
Just like she wanted.
"Aarrrrrrrgggggghhhhhh" she cried as I slid my stiff prick into her ass.
I'd first fucked Anita in the butt, she'd wanted it too, but Lois hadn't
lubricated her ass like Anita. Fortunately, Lois' pussy juice and our
cum had my cock all slicked up and penetration wasn't difficult. I held
still for a few moments, like Mama had taught me, and then gently began
to move back and forth, a little at a time.
Lois squirmed beneath me and gasped softly, "What are you doing, you
nasty boy?
I didn't answer right away but rather I slid my hands under her,
capturing a hanging breast with one, a wet pussy with the other, while I
still eased my dick in and out of her hot ass.
"Letting you feel me in your bottom," I replied, still sliding in and
out. "Like you wanted. Is it okay?"
"Hmmmmm!" Lois sighed. "It's nice!"
I guess that I didn't like her answer because I pulled out of her and
asked seriously, "You don't have a poopy bottom, do you?"
She jerked back against me and cried, 'No! No! Don't stop! I'm clean!
Put it back in!"
I pulled back further and told her, "Maybe I should go get a rubber!"
"No! You don't need that baby," Lois cooed now, very different from
when she was being demanding. She reached back, spread her ass cheeks,
and whimpered, "I'm clean darling. Come on baby! Fuck my ass like you
do Mama's!"
I learned then that Mama was in cahoots with Lois, having told her that
she and I were ass fucking. Lois knew it and wanted it. That was what
this was all about!
"Ahhhhh Yes!" Lois gasped as I slid back into her ass.
I fucked her hot ass for an hour. She couldn't get enough of my little
cock in her butt. I didn't count how many cums she had, but I spurted
three times into her hot, wet innards. My cock got limp and I stood to
leave.
"Oh baby, don't leave!" she whined as I turned to go get my clothes in
the kitchen.
I stopped in the doorway and asked her, "You want more? Then come over
here and suck my soft poopy dick until it's hard."
I hefted my limp cock and waved it at her. We looked at each other and
locked eyes. Lois gently shook her head "No' and I turned and walked
out. In the kitchen I dressed, went out the front door, and peddled
home.
I told Mama and Papa all about Lois. They were excited, but I was not
pleased. Lois seemed to be a little weird for me! After Mama and Papa
fucked, they came to me in the living room, telling me what a good boy I
was. Mama had called Lois and found that she was *very* pleased and
wanted me to deliver again, soon!
Over the next few months, I delivered to Lois from time to time. She
was always demanding, like the first time, but I did what ever I wanted.
I knew she'd go along. We fucked in the kitchen, in the hallway, and
in the washer/dryer room when we put some laundry soap away.
As I was leaving after the third or fourth time, she came to me on her
knees, by the front door, asking that I fuck her ass too before I left.
I was ready to go but I knew my Mama would hear if I had bad manners.
The living room was right there and I walked into the dark room, drapes
still wide open.
"Kneel up on the couch and look out the window and I'll do your ass."
Lois made a little whimper as she scooted into the dark room and knelt
up on the couch, naked with her head and hands on the back cushion,
looking out over the manicured lawn to the street.
I unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, and eased my dry cock into her
pussy.
"No! No! My Ass!" Lois cried, wriggling around like mad.
Wriggling around was good! It got my cock slick with her juices.
That's why I pushed into her pussy that way.
"Don't worry Lois, you'll get your ass plugged!" I said coarsely. I
pulled my cock out of her pussy and rammed it into her ass.
"Ahhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!" she yelled.
I fucked her ass for a few minutes, then she let her legs sag (in
pleasure??), and flopped down on the couch, saying nothing.
I'd had enough of this woman and pulled out, pulling my jeans up, and
left.
Mama and Papa were in their bedroom when I got home and I didn't get to
tell them what had happened, but after school the next day Mama told me
that Lois was very happy (still?) and wanted me to come over again, as
soon as I could.
I was amused by that, but didn't think much about it because we got
really busy in the new supermarket. With the expanded store, Papa's
bookkeeping system couldn't keep up. He taught me to help him, but it
was too much for the both of us. We struggled to keep up, working late
after hours and on weekends. Mama got upset and Papa finally got his
accounting firm to help. They got Papa to install a computer.
It wasn't much, just a electronic adding machine to calculate sales,
taxes, and credits. But it was a start. It cut our bookkeeping time in
half and we could keep up with the daily business. Newer, bigger, more
comprehensive machines were available, but they cost a fortune. Papa
was nobody's fool and he soon made some kind of deal with his accounting
firm and they took over the day-to-day accounting. All we had to do was
send them the numbers each night after we closed. That became my job.
Business kept building through the spring and I was able to recruit some
of my classmates to work as baggers or cashiers. It was a long, hot
summer and we all worked franticly. Our new big parking lot was an
important asset. Folks could come and shop, doing their drug store
business and dry cleaning too (Papa had let a guy build a building for a
cleaners on our 'block'). Papa's wisdom proved smart when he set up
part of the new supermarket to sell liquor, as well as wine and beer.
There had been a separate entrance built for just that. I'd wondered
why until I saw the numbers. Liquor was a gold mine!
Papa mostly spent his time amongst the customers or various sales
displays now that the accounting was being done elsewhere. Mama took
care of the help, hiring and firing as needed. My duties were to
oversee the ordering and make sure the numbers got to the accountants
each day.
All this didn't detract from our sexual pleasures. Mama and Papa made
sure that I wasn't walking around with a hard-on.
"Morning, Noon, and Night," Mama giggled as she sucked me off one
morning before school. "Lois came in yesterday and begged me for
another delivery. Are you up to it?"
"Mama!" I gasped as I came into her luscious mouth, "She's weird!"
"Weird? Tell me about it James," Mama insisted.
I had been frustrated with Lois and I unloaded all my issues and
concerns on Mama. We talked about it and we finally agreed that Lois
wasn't too demanding, she just wasn't pleasant about asking for what she
wanted. Also she never told me if she was happy or pleased with what I
did.
Mama understood what I felt. I was used to happy, loving sex and Lois
was being flippant about it. Mama saw Lois one afternoon and told her
that I didn't mind doing what she wanted, I only needed her to be
friendly about it and then at least tell me if I was pleasing her. I
guess Mama told Lois that if I was still disappointed after my next
delivery, there wouldn't be any more.
My next visit was much better and both Lois and I were very happy,
except Mama had made a new requirement that I was to spend no more than
one hour with her at a time. Lois didn't like that, but I was needed at
the supermarket and had to get my sleep for school. I only delivered to
her a few more times before she sold her house in the summer and moved
to Berkeley to get her Masters degree in library science. Mama kept in
touch with her former lover until she dropped out and got involved in a
commune in Oregon. Mama missed her but I wasn't upset. Lois never did
seem to me to be very stable.
To help Mama's spirits, Papa got Anita to fly in and help me run the
supermarket for a week while he and Mama went to San Francisco for a
vacation. We had good help then: several full time cashiers, a meat
cutter, and a produce/dairy man. Anita and I had a *great* time making
love and tending the store. By the time Mama and Papa got back, happy
and all lovey, Anita and I had made love in every room of the house and
all around the supermarket after closing and before we opened in the
morning.
Anita wore loose sweaters and knee-length skirts with no underwear. We
made love on every check-out counter, in the meat locker, and chased
each other up and down the aisles in the dark, naked. In the mornings,
she'd suck me off and send me to school satisfied, then opening up for
business for the day. At home at night, Anita introduced me to sex
toys. It was only a simple plastic vibrator and life-like rubber dildo,
but we had a lot of fun with them. As she'd been the teacher for me the
year before, she taught me how to use them on her and on myself. The
first time she helped me buzz my prostate, my cock exploded without
either of us touching it.
Anita also let me drive Papa's car, practicing with my learner's permit
for when I could test for my license after my sixteenth birthday. She
was a much easier instructor than Papa. Perhaps it was because she was
closer to my age, but for whatever reason I became quite confident in my
driving skills. Papa was even impressed at how improved I was.
The day before she was to leave, Anita got her menses. She was honest
with me about it and I happily fucked her and ate her while she was
bloody. She went wild, cumming hard again and again, teaching me that
women do get extra horny when they have their periods. Mama and Papa
returned later that day and we had a wild sex party, but only after Mama
and Papa inspected the store and checked the accounting. Anita left the
next day, leaving me her sex toys as an early sixteenth birthday
present.
That was the last time I ever saw her. Within thee years she'd died of
what later came to be called AIDS.
Within a week after sixteenth birthday, Papa took me to the license
bureau and I got my driver's license. I was the envy of my classmates,
but I didn't have a car. However, Papa had plans for me and my new
license. He bought a used panel truck, had it repainted to say 'Tony's
and Marie's Supermarket', and started a delivery service. I was to do
the delivering.
The way Mama and Papa saw it, our new little store would be hard pressed
to be competitive, but we could do what few big supermarkets would do.
We would deliver. Any regular customer could set up an account, call in
an order by 2PM, and I would deliver it after school. The customer
would be sent a monthly statement, including a three dollar charge for
each delivery. Senior citizens would be exempt from this fee, something
Papa was way ahead of the curve on too. We didn't do a lot of delivery
business, or make much money on it, but 'Tony's and Marie's' became very
popular in the community. In 1977 the town's senior council gave Papa a
'Good Citizen' award. He was very proud of that plaque.
Mama had other ideas for the delivery service and how to make money at
it. Without my knowledge, or Papa's for over a year, she used it to
provide me to a select group of her friends for sexual pleasure. If the
order included a tube of lubricating jelly, which Mama kept in a case in
a locked cupboard in the office, I would make myself available to the
lady customers she'd set up for my loving skills. She'd learned from
the deliveries I'd made to Lois how to instruct and prepare the women
for my visits. Depending on who it was and what the women wanted, she'd
add $20 dollars or more to the invoice as a fee for the 'special jelly'.
Years later, while I was in college, I discovered that Mama had set up a
special college fund with the special fees and it paid for my years at
the University. With interest, it amounted to more than $20,000! (which
back then was more than enough for a decent four year college
education).
At first I was awkward, but Mama's coaching of me (and the women) made
things much smoother and happier than with Lois. Women would come in
the store and shop, then leave their groceries for me to deliver later,
often at a specific time. We still delivered call in orders and Mama
would schedule them around orders with and without the special jelly
included.
Let me tell you of a few of my several hundred 'special jelly'
deliveries over the years. Most were women wanted some simple affection
and a little sex, but others were more memorable.
Mrs. Napoliano, one of Mama's good friends, was among the first to get a
delivery with the special jelly. She was in her forties and was fairly
calm about the whole thing. Usually she only wanted me to make out with
her, suck her boobs, and finger her until she had an orgasm, sometimes,
when she felt really sexy, she'd suck me off. I liked her a lot and
delivered to her nearly every week for three years until I went to
college.
Another was Gina (I never knew her full name) and she was pretty wild.
Mama's rule of only an hour per visit caused me to often have to zip up
my pants and run to the truck keep on schedule. She was a thirty-
something divorcee with a voluptuous body and she just wanted to fuck.
On my first visit, before I could even put down the groceries, she was
on her knees sucking me. Once she got me hard, she pulled me down,
fully dressed except for my protruding cock, and rode me right on the
tiled kitchen floor. She came almost immediately and fell on top of me,
writhing with the spasms of her climax. When she caught her breath, she
tossed off her robe and stripped me. She pulled me into her bedroom and
had me screw her from behind until she collapsed fucked out, facedown on
the bed. After I quit panting, I was getting up to leave when she
rolled over, pulling me between her legs for more.
Gina was a great lover. Happy, pleasant, and very horny. I saw her
about every week and, after a few months, she began to buy two tubes of
special jelly. She made an agreement with Mama that I should stay and
hour and a half. I don't know how much she contributed to my college
fund, but she was one lady that I'd have made love with just for fun (at
the time I thought it *was* just for fun). One winter evening she was
my last delivery. Inside, in front of her roaring fireplace, she
dazzled me with her slinky clothing and expert loving. She knew I would
cum quickly the first time, so she sucked me first thing, happily
swallowing my jism. I tossed off my clothes and pulled off her sopping
panties, getting on top of her for intercourse. She was the first woman
I ever had sex with that actually seemed to relish it. She'd cry with
joy as she came. She'd wrap her arms and legs around me, telling me how
much she needed my cock. After her first few cums she'd go wild. Her
hips whipped up and down, fucking up at me as hard as I fucked down at
her.
Some men say that a pussy is a pussy and they don't really care much
about fucking except for getting their orgasm, but I much prefer an
energetic woman that fully participates in love making. That was Gina.
For years she was my highest standard of feminine arousal A frumpy girl
with a plump body, who's not much to look at, will always get my
appreciation if she's an energetic lover. A beautiful woman with her
heels in the air whose only exertion is to mutter 'fuck me', is a real
turn off and I'd rather jerk off than waste time with her. I don't know
what ever happened to Gina, but I remember her fondly today, more than
twenty five years later. I hope that life has been kind to her; she
really deserved it in my opinion.
During June, the first summer of my deliveries, I had a unique
experience. I had made special jelly deliveries to Mrs. Miller from
time to time. She was very nice, a well kept mid-forties, and a good
lover. She was unusual because she wanted to do different things each
time I delivered. The first time, we just kissed as I caressed her and
fondled her breasts before we made gentle missionary style love in her
bed. Many women liked that style and would only make love that way.
But the second time, Mrs. Miller had me eat her and then she sucked me,
instead of having intercourse. The third time, she had me doggy style
and then rode atop me. The fourth time she sucked me hard, slicked up
my dick with the lubricating jelly, and had me fuck her ass. The fifth
time she took me into her bathroom and we stripped to take a shower
together, ending with me fucking her standing up against the tile wall.
None of these couplings were a problem, but it was unusual for a woman
to have such a varied program for each of my visits. I suppose that I
should have figured out that she was sampling me, but I was too young.
The sixth time I delivered to Mrs. Miller, Mama had scheduled me for two
hours on that sunny summer Saturday afternoon. Looking back I should
have realized that something special was up, but I was oblivious. Mrs.
Miller let me in and I carried the groceries into the kitchen, as usual,
but something was different. I couldn't quite place it but when Mrs.
Miller wrapped her arms around me and kissed me, I was surprised to find
that she was fully clothed. The other times I'd delivered, she's worn a
robe over her underwear or a negligee.
Mrs. Miller broke our kiss and lay back in my arms, looking me in the
eyes, saying, "Jimmy! You're a good, gentle boy and a wonderful lover.
I want you to make love to my daughter. She's a virgin and sixteen.
It's her birthday. She's on the pill and thinks you're cute. Would you
please go into my bedroom and show her the joys of love? I know you'll
be good to her."
I was astonished! Mama hadn't said anything about this, but I now knew
why I was allotted an extra hour. I hadn't ever loved a virgin, but
Anita had told me what to do.
"Ah. . . . sure Mrs. Miller. What ever you want."
"Good Jimmy," she said, linking her arm in mine, steering me toward her
bedroom. "Good! I just knew you were the right guy!" She paused at
the entry to the hall and explained, "I'm going to sit right here in the
living room in case you need me." She pointed to a chair with a book
and a reading light, "You just go on in and enjoy my daughter. I'll be
happy if I hear squeals of pleasure from her, but I'm sure you'll be
gentle and good to her." She pulled her arm back and patted my butt.
"Go! Have fun! Make my baby a woman!"
Mrs Miller went and sat down without a backward look and I went down the
hall to the master bedroom where we'd made love before. I knocked twice
softly on the door and opened it quietly. Inside, all the lights were
off and the drapes closed, but at least a dozen candles lit up the room,
the light dancing about as candle flames do. Nobody was there! I
closed the door softly and waited to see what would happen. Nothing
did! I sat on the edge of the bed and took off my shoes and socks.
Next to me on top of a dressing table there was a large mirror and in it
I saw a movement behind me. I turned and saw a beautiful young girl
emerging shyly from the bathroom. I stood and turned, staring at her as
she moved around the bed to stand in front of me, a vision of
loveliness.
She was looking down, averting her eyes, and wore a floor length sheer
white lounging robe. Underneath I could just make out a red bra,
panties, and garter belt. Below the robe, I could see she had red
stockings on her feet. She looked up at me and I suddenly realized it
was the girl from long ago who'd shown me her red panties in the old
corner store.
She must have seen my remembrance of her in my eyes and she smiled
weakly, saying, "Hello Jimmy. I'm Tess! Remember me?"
End Chapter 85
********************** My Dear Readers *****************************
Please remember that stories are just stories and *not* reality. Do
not engage in unprotected sex or the ugly reality of life in the 21st
century will rot your mind, rape your soul, and kill your body.
************** Thank You For Reading My Story **********************
Mrs. James Wentworth Preston
Copyright 2003
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