Open Door Policy, Ch. 2

<< Chapter 1

Open Door Policy, Ch. 2
by DirtyMindedMom

Everything was strange the next morning. Gary didn’t say more than two words as he got ready for school, and I said nothing as I got ready for work. He avoided eye contact and didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. Apparently my hastily conceived plan had only managed to replace one kind of awkwardness with a new kind of awkwardness. I couldn’t un-ring that bell, but I decided that I was simply going to have to work harder to keep my private time more private for the sake of my son. He had enough to deal with lately without having to overhear his mother giving herself screaming orgasms in the room next door to his.

When I dropped Gary off at his new school, he was out of the car with nothing more than a parting wave goodbye before I had a chance to shift into park. I worried about the foolish mistake I’d made all the way to work. What was I thinking? If splitting up with my cheating husband wasn’t already stressful enough, I was freaking my son out with my misplaced attempt to establish a more open and honest environment now that we’re wedged into such close quarters.

I arrived at work only a few minutes late and slipped into my tiny office in the back of the salon before anyone noticed. I fired up the computer, opened the bookkeeping software and began sorting through the pile of receipts and invoices that had been left on my desk. I tried to lose myself in the work, but my mind wouldn’t let go of last night.

Sure, it had been an awesome orgasm, and I couldn’t deny that in the three weeks since I’d walked out on my husband it was the first really good night of sleep I’d had. But it wasn’t worth making Gary feel uncomfortable in his own home (if you could call that crappy apartment a home). I hated to admit that in the moment I got a thrill out of the idea that he was listening to me moaning up a storm and maybe jerking off to it all, but in the light of day I was ashamed and embarrassed by my reckless behavior. What kind of mother does something like that?

Even if my son did get off on what happened last night, I’m sure he must be feeling guilty about it today. All I’d thought about was my need to cum; I hadn’t considered the consequences. I tried to put the whole thing out of my head several times, but in a matter of minutes thoughts of what I’d done crept back to nag at me. If that wasn’t bad enough, the more I thought about the night before, the more the image of my son beating off his hard cock filled my mind. It was despicable, but as the day wore on I had to admit to myself that I was getting horny from it all. I knew my panties were getting soaked and there was nothing I could do about it.

I couldn’t risk touching myself in my office to relieve the building tension, nor could I get away with diddling myself in the ladies’ room. For years I’d tried everything to contain myself and learn to have nice quiet orgasms, but nothing ever worked. The last thing I needed was for my boss to hear me screaming in the bathroom while I finger fucked myself to my happy place and end up getting fired. I put my head down and plowed ahead with my work as best as I could.

When I got home, I felt the usual relief that Gary had safely navigated his way through the city back to the apartment, but there was also something else. There was an odd flutter in my tummy the moment I saw him. It was the kind of flutter a woman gets when she sees a man she’s attracted to, not the kind a mother gets when she sees her son. I tried to shake it off and launched into the speech I’d been practicing on the ride home.

“We need to talk,” I began. “First of all, I’m sorry about last night, honey.”

He looked up from his homework, meeting my eye. “Sorry? Why?”

“I think you know why. I shouldn’t have done what I did, and I’m sorry to have put you in such an awkward position. That’s not something a boy should have to deal with.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom. It’s no big deal.” He chewed the end of his pen nervously for a moment before going on. “Actually, I’ve kinda been thinking about it all day. It’s sorta cool in a way. Well, maybe not cool, exactly, but everyone does it, right? But nobody has the balls…uh, sorry…the guts to talk about it.”

“Maybe there’s a good reason for that.” I sat down, kicked off my shoes and rubbed one of my tired stocking feet. Gary seemed to be following my every move in a way that I’d never noticed him doing before. “Perhaps privacy is the best policy.”

Gary shrugged and turned back to his homework. “Okay, but just so you know, the noise doesn’t bother me any.”

I got up and started dinner. That talk hadn’t gone the way I’d rehearsed it. I had expected to do all the talking, but he obviously had his own thoughts on the situation. Had he really been thinking all day about what he’d heard? That insistent ache was back in my pussy, begging for attention. As tempting as it was, I resolved to keep my hands off myself from now on unless I had the apartment to myself.

After an unexpectedly relaxed dinner, we watched TV for an hour or so before Gary excused himself and went to his room. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop imagining him pulling his pants down as soon as he closed the door and yanking his cock as hard as he could. This was getting ridiculous. I decided to take a shower to cool off.

I stepped out of the stand-up stall feeling somewhat refreshed. The horniness had been quelled to a dull pulse. I just had to get through tonight without any more inappropriateness and I’d be in the clear. As I dried myself off, I noticed the bathroom door wasn’t closed all the way. I thought I’d shut it tight when I came in. As a matter of fact, I was certain I had.

I wrapped the towel around myself and peeked out. Gary’s bedroom door was only a few steps away, and it was closed. I decided to do a little experiment. I stepped out of the bathroom, closed the door most of the way and peered through the crack. There wasn’t much to see from that angle, then I realized that the mirror provided a full view of the bathroom and the shower stall. If my son had been spying on me, he would have been able to see everything.

The anger welled up suddenly. Did all the men in my life feel like they could take advantage of me whenever they wanted to and not care? Like I was nothing more than something to be used? I wanted to march into Gary’s room and let him have it, but instead I took a deep breath and counted to ten. I wasn’t going to fly off the handle and do something I’d regret later. I went back into the bathroom and closed the door. I finished drying off, put on my body lotion, fixed my hair, and took my makeup off. At first I was seething, but the more I thought about my son spying on me the more turned on I got. This wasn’t the way I wanted to feel.

I put on my robe, then went and knocked on his door.

“Hold on.”

I didn’t bother waiting. I got a glimpse of my son’s erection as he yanked his blanket up to hide himself. I also noticed that his computer was closed on his desk. The idea that he was jerking off to thoughts of me instead of porn popped into my mind and I wasn’t able to push it aside quick enough.

“I know you were spying on me in the shower just now,” I said firmly, leaving no room for denial. “I hope you liked what you saw.” My tone was more stern than seductive.

“I was…I accidentally…” He saw the set expression of my face and knew he wasn’t going to get away with any lying excuses. “Um…sorry.”

“As much as I don’t like it, you have plenty of porn right there.” I pointed at his computer. “Why are you wasting time trying to see me naked?”

He shrugged, his cheeks coloring. “I don’t know. You’re not like them.” He nodded to his laptop. “You’re real. And…”

“And what?”

“And…sexy.”

Not what I was expecting to hear. My plan was to gently scold him and nip this in the bud, but instead I heard myself saying words that I couldn’t believe were coming from me.

“Fine, well, I just want to let you know that I’m going to my room now. I’m going to leave my door open. You don’t need to sneak and spy on me like a creepy pervert. If you want to watch me get undressed and get ready for bed, then you’re more than welcomed to. I don’t have anything left to hide.”

He swallowed hard and looked like he couldn’t tell if I was talking crazy or if I meant it. To be honest, I didn’t know myself. I turned and left his room, not bothering to shut his door behind me. I went to my bedroom, and took off my robe before I could have second thoughts. I walked around my room naked, getting out my clothes I was going to wear for tomorrow and tidying up things that didn’t need tidying.

I hated to admit that I was a little disappointed that Gary didn’t take my invitation, but he also didn’t go so far as to close his door. Our bedroom doors were at right angles to one another and if he stood in the right spot he’d be able to see into part of my bedroom. Maybe he was catching sight of me as I moved around naked. It was disgusting that I wanted to put on such a shameless display for my son, but I was enjoying the illicit thrill of it too much to stop. I dug out a small box from my closet, tore off the tape, and took out one of the three dildos that was packed in there along with a couple of negligees I hadn’t worn in over a decade. I turned off the light, got into bed, and began sucking the fake cock.

My fingers worked over my swollen pussy. It had been eager for attention all day, and I was finally going to take care of myself like I deserved. I slid the spit-slicked dildo into my pussy nice and easy.

“Uuuuuggggh, yes…that’s what I’m talking about.” The words came unbidden to my lips. I didn’t bother trying to suppress them. My door was open, my son’s door was open, and he was going to hear what he was going to hear. No point in holding back. “Oh, that cock feels good in my pussy.”

I began fucking myself with the toy using long, even strokes. I normally just set it to vibrate and tease my clit until I orgasm, but just then I needed something hard inside me. I kept glancing to the threshold of my doorway looking for a shadowy figure, but it seemed Gary wasn’t bold enough to take me up on my offer even with the lights out. No matter, I was going to cum hard either way.

“Oh, fuck me. Fuck me, baby. Just like that. Ah, ah, ah, ooooo.” I worked my pussy faster, never letting a second go by where I wasn’t making some kind of sound. “Uuunngg, nice and deep, yeah, fill that pussy up all the way, baby.”

Normally when I masturbate I fantasize that I’m being tended to by a faceless stranger. Tonight he wasn’t a stranger, and he definitely had a face. It was the face of my son. I knew I shouldn’t be going there, even in the privacy of my own mind, but it was no use trying to resist.

“Mommy needs to cum so bad. Uh, uh, uh, yes. Make Mommy cum with that hard cock. Oh, fuck, yeah! Give it to me!”

I’d only seen my son’s hard-on for a quick second, but that image was fixed in my mind’s eye. I was pumping myself fast and hard. I knew my son would be hearing every sound I uttered, but I also realized that he could probably also hear the wet sounds of my dildo plunging in and out of my sopping hole. That thought only encouraged me all the more.

“Oh, God, yes!” I screamed. “You like fucking that cunt, don’t you? Ah, yes. Ah, yes. Ah, yesss! Fuck that cunt! Gimme that hard cock! Fuck my cunt good! Aaaaaaaahhh!”

With that I came in a flash of sensations that rocked my whole body in an instant surge of unadulterated pleasure. All the day’s tension, worry, and anger was released in a sudden burst and replaced with a cascade of happy feelings that flooded my brain and washed away all the negativity. That’s when I heard something from Gary’s room.

“Oh, shit! Uuuuuuh, uh, uh…uh…”

There was no mistaking it this time. I had definitely just heard my son make himself cum. He was lying in his darkened room at that very moment with warm semen splattered all over his chest, belly and hand. And if that wasn’t enough, I knew his orgasm came as a result of listening to me getting myself off.

How could something this wrong feel so damn fucking good?

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Chapter 3 >>

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Open Door Policy, Ch. 1

Open Door Policy, Ch. 1
by DirtyMindedMom

It had been almost three weeks since I left my husband after finding a pair of women’s panties and a used condom in the back seat of his car. It had been exactly two weeks since I moved into this shitty little two-bedroom apartment with Gary, my 16-year-old son. I’d spent most of these past weeks being mad, stressed, depressed, and occasionally vengeful. But now I was just plain horny.

I lay naked on my bed (which was nothing more than a mattress on the floor at this point). My legs were spread and I was dying to touch myself. What was holding me back was the fact that I’m a bit of a screamer. Even when I try my hardest to be quiet, I still make a lot of noise. This was never a problem before because the master bedroom was upstairs on one side of the house, and Gary’s room was on the ground floor at the other end. Now with him just on the other side of one paper-thin wall, there was no way that I’d be able to get off without him knowing what I was doing. I’d just have to wait until I had the apartment to myself – something that had yet to happen since we moved in.

The close quarters didn’t appear to be deterring my son any when it came to taking care of himself in this regard. He was spending a lot of time in his room with the door closed. Every time I’d knock, he’d tell me to “hold on,” and I’d have to wait while he put on some pants or pulled the covers up to hide what he was doing. It’s not like I’m a prude or anything like that – I’m well aware of a teenage boy’s propensity for masturbation – but I was a little worried that Gary might be resorting to jerking off excessively as a stress reliever after everything that had been going on between me and his father.

I was sometimes able to hear the muted sounds of porn through the wall between our rooms late at night when he thought I was asleep. The only thing that surprised me about this was that we didn’t have an internet connection, so he must have had the porn saved onto his laptop. I regretted not having had the foresight to do the same before I walked out on my asshole husband.

I closed my legs, hoping to stifle the temptation. I could hear someone walking around upstairs. There was always someone walking around upstairs. I found myself straining to hear any hints of porn sex coming from my son’s room. All was quiet from that quarter, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t playing with his cock at that very moment. I shouldn’t have been thinking about my son doing that, but the image played out in my mind of my sweet boy holding tight to his erection and stroking it with desperate intensity. All I could do was hope that he was able to beat back the weight of his problems and gain a some respite in those fleeting moments of self-induced bliss.

My legs were open again and I realized I was pinching one of my nipples. I scolded myself for letting my mind dwell on thoughts of my own son playing with himself. I had been a bad enough mother over the past weeks and didn’t need to add to the list. My clit was stiff and pulsing. Something had to give.

I don’t know exactly what prompted me to do it, but my world had been turned upside down and inside out, so what I did next didn’t seem all that insane in the moment. I suppose there’s a certain kind of careless freedom that comes from the sense that you have nothing left to lose.

After having thrown on my bathrobe, I stood at Gary’s door and knocked.

“Hold on,” came the expected response.

I waited a few moments before opening the door. Gary was sitting up in bed with the covers up to his waist. My guess was that they’d just been hastily pulled up to conceal the hard-on that I was certain lurked just below. He didn’t have any lights on, but the glow from his laptop illuminated his bare torso. I was mildly startled to notice that he was beginning to show some actual muscle definition. There was no more baby fat. My boy was undeniably on his way to becoming a man.

“Sorry to interrupt, honey, but I need to talk to you about something.” I went to his mattress and sat down on the edge of it, doing my best to keep my robe from revealing that I was naked underneath. “It’s about sex.”

He swallowed hard before responding. “Uh, okay, but I already know all that stuff, Mom.” His eyes guiltily flicked to his laptop, then back to me. “We learned about it in school, and Dad talked to me about it, so I’m all good.”

“I’m sure you are, sweetheart, but did your teacher ever talk about how moms get really horny sometimes?”

His eyes went wide, his jaw literally dropped, and he made a little strangled sound that I’d never heard from him before. It was a bit mean, but I actually enjoyed seeing his reaction.

“Mom?”

“I’m sorry, honey, but it’s true. It’s been a long time since I had sex, and the honest truth is that your mom is beyond horny right now.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You know all about masturbation, right?” I saw that guilty look again. “Well, I assume you know that girls masturbate, too. Don’t you?”

“Um, yeah, I guess.”

“So it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that mothers also masturbate.”

“Okaaay…”

His eyes involuntarily went to my legs for a quick moment. I was aware that I was showing a fair amount of bare thigh, but nothing too provocative (I hoped).

“What I’m trying to tell you is that I like to masturbate.” It felt good saying that out loud, even if it was to my own son. “Not as much as you, obviously…” I picked up a t-shirt from the floor that was crusted with dried cum, and tossed it toward his hamper. “But I do need to take care of myself in that special way from time to time.”

“I’m not trying to be a jerk, Mom, but seriously…why are we talking about this?”

“Because as soon as we’re done talking, I’m going to go back to my room and I’m going to masturbate. When I do, you might hear some things. The truth is that I can get kind of noisy when I’m having sex.”

“Noisy?”

“You know, moaning and…whatnot.” I felt the irrational urge to open my robe right there and touch myself. I forced that ridiculous thought away, but as soon as I did it was replaced by the desire to tug down my son’s blanket and expose the erection that I knew was hiding under there. “I just thought it was only fair to warn you now that we’re living so close together so you wouldn’t be shocked or embarrassed about what you might hear. Believe me, this isn’t a conversation I ever expected to be having with you, but I thought it would be better for me to just be honest and up front with you about what’s going on instead of trying to hide it or pretend it isn’t happening.”

“Yeah, okay, I guess that makes sense…kinda…”

“Do you have any questions, or anything you want to say about this?”

“Ah…no, not really.”

“Okay, then.” I stood up, and cinched my robe tight. “I’ll let you get back to jerking off while I go do the same.” He blushed enough for me to see his cheeks redden even in the dim light of his laptop.

I hated to embarrass him like that, but we needed to get past the awkwardness if we were going to be shoehorned into this crummy little apartment together for who knows how long. I leaned down and gave him a kiss on his forehead. As I stood I couldn’t help but notice him trying to get a look down the front of my robe. I should have been upset by this, but instead it sent a nice tingle dancing across both my nipples.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“’Night, Mom.”

I went back to my room. The moment the door was closed my robe came off. I was touching myself before I even made it to the mattress. When I got there, I dropped to my knees and fingered myself feverishly. I normally work up to it slowly, touching and teasing my whole body before getting down to the serious business of pleasuring my pussy, but there was too much pent up frustration and excitement to waste any time on unnecessary foreplay. I began moaning almost immediately.

For a few seconds I had managed to hold it in, but it was just no use. “Oh, fuck, yes, that feels good.” I groaned, trying to keep it under my breath.

I rubbed my clit, ran my fingers down to my wet hole, then slid them up along my lips. I spread my wetness all over my engorged pussy, then brought my fingers to my mouth and tasted my own essence. That spurred me on even more.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” I plunged a finger into my pussy. “I told my son I like to masturbate. He knows what I’m doing right now.” I added another finger and fucked myself with unfettered abandon. “He’s probably jerking off right now thinking about it. My son is playing with his cock and thinking about me touching my cunt.” This thought made me hornier than anything I’d experienced in years. I let out a noise that was closer to a scream than a moan.

There was no doubt he’d heard that. The cat was out of the bag – no point in holding back.

“Oh, fuck!” I called out to the blank wall in front of me. There was a half-decent chance the neighbors would hear me as well, but all that I cared about was Gary. I few minutes before I had been terrified that he’d hear me, but now I wanted him to. It didn’t make sense, but I needed him to hear me pleasuring myself. “Oh God, yes!” I cried and grabbed a hold of one of my swaying tits.

My breasts had generously filled a C-cup when I was younger, but after I had my son they developed into a healthy pair of wobbly D’s. I was content with my younger boobs and didn’t think I wanted them any bigger, but I’ve come to appreciate the natural enhancement I experienced courtesy of my pregnancy, and I adore my big knockers now more than ever. No, I don’t have the firm titties I did when I was a clueless teenager, but what I have now is so much more fun to play with. I leaned forward and let my boobs hang freely, moving my shoulders just enough to make them jiggle and slap together. Damn, that felt good.

“Oh, oh, oh, fuck me, oh, mmmm, yes!” My sex noises were coming in a steady stream now. Normally I paid no attention to my vocalizations, but after talking with my son I was hyper-aware of them. This only seemed to turn me on all the more. I pictured my son right next door with his ear pressed against the wall and beating his dick like crazy as he listened to his mother finger-blast herself like a mad woman.

“Fuck that pussy,” I told myself between gritted teeth. “Fuck that horny fucking pussy! Oh, yeah, oh, oh, ummmm!” I was humping my fingers hard. My tits were swinging wildly. I leaned down just enough so my hard nipples grazed my bedsheets as I fucked myself silly.

“Ah, ah, shit yes! I’m going to cum! Oh, fuck, I’m going to cum so fucking hard, baby! Oh, oh, oh, Mommy’s gonna fucking cum! Uuunnnnggggghhhh! Fuck!”

My whole body convulsed in one powerful spasm of delight. Every nerve was electrified in sexual celebration as an orgasm unlike any I’d known before suffused my entire being. I was alive and connected and fulfilled in a way that was both frightening and wonderful at the same time. I pulled my fingers out of my over-sensitized pussy and slumped face first onto my cheap mattress. I caught my breath in huge gulps of air as I waited for my head to stop spinning.

While I lay there, I swore I heard a tell-tale grunt of release coming from my son’s bedroom. Had he just shot a big load of cum all over the place? It might have only been my wishful imagination, but it gave me a happy feeling to believe that he got off on hearing me experiencing the first true pleasure I’d known in months.

My sex-addled brain was already at work devising a plan to have another very personal mother-son talk with Gary. Maybe there were other ways we could both benefit from being more honest and open with each other, especially when it came to sex…

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Chapter 2 >>

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Almost Her

My heart skipped a beat when I randomly came across this image. She looks almost exactly like a girlfriend of my brother’s when he was a senior in high school. For a few seconds I thought it really might be her, but sadly it’s not. Whenever I was around one of my brother’s girlfriends, I couldn’t help wondering if she’d had my brother’s cock in her mouth yet, or if she had ever let him finger her pussy. I’ve thought a few times about showing my brother this picture to get his reaction, but I’ve been too much of a chicken to do it. My natural instinct is to hide from him the fact that his kid sister is a more than casual surfer of internet porn, but at the same time it would be exciting if he knew. I’m afraid that path leads to a slippery slope that I’m too tempted to flirt with. In the meantime, have you ever found naked pics of someone you know online? What would you do if you did?

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Cum Lover

I’ve made no secret of the fact that I love cum. What I haven’t done is explain why. Part of the reason for this might be because I never really thought about it – I just knew that I had a fascination with the gooey stuff and couldn’t get enough of it. I’ve been thinking about my love affair with man chowder for the past couple days and here’s what I’ve cum up with…

Going back to the beginning, I was aware fairly early on that babies were a result of the man’s sperm fertilizing the woman’s egg. Ah, yes, the miracle of life. What I didn’t know until Sex Ed class was what exactly sperm was and how it managed to get to the egg. Once I absorbed the concept that the sperm came out of the man’s penis, I was hooked. The idea that boys could pee and ejaculate with the same tool really captured my imagination. Of course, that’s all it was at that time – imagination.

It wasn’t until I gave my first boyfriend a handjob out in the open that I fully understood the full scope of it all. He’d cum in his pants once when we were dry humping, but to me it was nothing more than a wet spot in his jeans. Actually seeing jizz shooting out of his cock blew my naïve, virgin mind! For some reason, I’d envisioned a teeny-tiny bit trickling out – a little like a runny nose sort of situation. I literally screamed when ropes of white cock cream jetted out of his dick and shot everywhere. I became a devoted fan of the stuff ever since that moment.

It wasn’t until my second high school boyfriend that I tasted the stuff. I’d discovered the magical world of blowjobs by then, but I’d always finish off my beau by hand. As much as I loved the jism, I wasn’t onboard with taking a load in my mouth. First, the idea of it scared me a little. I knew you technically weren’t supposed to be able to get pregnant from swallowing sperm, but how could you really know for sure? Second, I had it in my head that only really skanky sluts let guys cum in their mouth. I might have been right about that one, but what I didn’t know is that the skanky sluts were having way more fun than I was at the time. And, I’m ashamed to say, I still thought the idea of something going into my mouth that came out of a guy’s penis was kind of gross. Hey, I was a stupid 16-year-old girl, what did I know?

With all this in mind, I’m sure you can understand why I was so upset with my boyfriend when he purposely didn’t warn me that afternoon in the woods behind the school and blasted a fat load in my mouth by surprise. I choked half of it down, spit the rest out, and was rip-shit pissed at him for doing that to me. In one thoughtless moment he turned me from an almost good girl into a skanky slut without my permission! I had made my mind up to break up with him and never speak to the bastard again. I couldn’t stop thinking about it that night while I was trying to fall asleep. I remembered the way his cock swelled just before he came. I thought about the sensation of the warm spurts filling my mouth. I could still almost taste that unique flavor that suddenly filled my mouth. I found it disgusting at the time, but maybe it wasn’t as bad as I’d first thought. It had happened so fast…maybe I didn’t hate it as much as I expected I would. Maybe I might have even liked it a little. There was only one way to know for sure – I’d have to try it again.

So, I was pretty much swallowing his load every time we got together after that. From devoted fan, I slowly evolved into a discerning connoisseur. Granted, I wasn’t popular enough to be able to sample a wide variety of different vintages, but I savored the one brand I had easy access to. I loved having cum in my mouth, but it wasn’t so much for the flavor itself. If Ben & Jerry’s came out with a cum-flavored ice cream called Spunky Monkey, I wouldn’t be rushing out to the store to stock up. What really got me off about it was the same thing that used to gross me out. I had something in my mouth that came out of a dirty boy cock! That idea was so filthy-sexy to me that it turned me on like nothing else. The skanks really had it figured out.

I guess these early positive experiences with baby-batter provided a solid foundation for my love of cum, but there’s more to it than that. There’s the sensual physicality of the stuff, and there’s the nasty joy of where it comes from, but there’s also a certain symbolic power to sperm-laced semen that enthralls me. When a woman orgasms, there’s no overtly definitive evidence of it. Yes, there can be some flushing of the skin, tell-tale internal convulsions, and perhaps some moaning and groaning, but it’s nothing like the male ejaculation.* It’s this explosive projection of the male orgasm out into the external world that makes such an impression on me. More than envying the penis for its phallic prowess, I covet the cumshot like nothing else.

Not only is ejaculation a physical manifestation of the male orgasm, but it can also serve as an animalistic marking of one’s territory. When you cum on my face, you’re telling the world you own me. When you pump a load into my cunt, you’re planting a flag of dominance. Even when you blow a wad all over your own chest and stomach, it’s a celebration of your cock and of yourself as a man. You guys probably cum so much that this might seem like this is a bit of an overstatement, but I believe it to be essentially true. There’s a primal power being unleashed every time a man forcefully propels his seed out into the world, and I for one am in awe of the potency of this act every time I am privileged enough to witness it.

I honestly believe that cum is a wondrous gift. I love watching it shoot (or ooze) out of a nice, hard cock. I adore feeling it spurting onto my tongue. I like the taste, the texture, and feel of it. I get a kick out of swallowing it. I don’t mind at all if he wants to cum on my face, and I’m cool if some gets in my hair (but not in my eyes). It feels great spraying on my belly, back or butt. Nothing is better than when I hold my pussy lips open and he squirts a hot load all up and down my cunt. It’s a true pleasure to feel a man cum inside me, pumping his vital essence deep in my guts.

I’m entranced by the pearly translucence of semen. I love how slimy and slippery it is (I get annoyed when people describe cum as sticky – it’s biologically designed as a lubricant, not a glue!). I enjoy smearing it over my nipples and rubbing it on my skin. I like when it dries and turns into a crust that I find in my pubic hair the next morning. It’s a treat to lick that last little drop from the tip of his cock. And let’s not forget the smell. There’s nothing else like it, and that unique aroma triggers every sex response there is in my brain and body. If they made a cologne that smelled like fresh sperm, I’d be hard pressed to control myself around any man wearing it (weird, maybe, but true). As Homer S. would say, “Mmmmm, cum.”

Well, once again I’ve got myself all worked up into a froth while writing this post. I’m here in my dining room all alone without a handy cock to milk for that delectable ambrosia. I guess I’ll just have to wait for hubby to get home from work (I won’t be able to wait till after the girls are in bed – I’m going to have to drag him straight into the bathroom, lock the door, and suck him off as quick as I can!). Hmmm, maybe I would run to the store if I could get some B&J’s Spunky Monkey, after all.

In the meantime, tell me what’s your favorite thing to do with cum (yours or someone else’s)?

* And, yes, I’m well aware that women can “ejaculate” in their own fashion, but there are distinct biological differences that render the female version a pale comparison to the real thing.

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Dick Slip

“Oops! Honey, your ding-ding is showing.”
   “So?”
“So, aren’t you embarrassed that your grandma can see the tip of your pee-pee peeking out?”
   “You’ve seen it before, haven’t you?”
“Yes, when it was little. Now it’s so…different.”
   “I can tuck it away if it’s bothering you.”
“Oh, it’s no bother, honey. But I…”
   “What, Grandma?”
“It’s silly, but now that I’ve seen the tip I’m curious to see the rest of it.”
   “You want me to show you my cock?”
“It sounds so nasty when you use that word. Nevermind, just pretend I didn’t say anything.”
   “It’s no big deal. Here, have a look.”
“Oh, my. You certainly have grown.”
   “You like it, Grandma?”
“Yes…yes, I do. Can you…can you make it bigger?”
   “I can, if you don’t mind watching me stroke it a little.”
“I don’t mind at all, dear.”
   “There it is, big as it gets. How’s that?”
“Marvelous, honey. Oh, I haven’t seen a hard, em…cock in ages.”
   “What about Grandpa?”
“He lost interest years ago. What I miss most is how they squirt, you know?”
   “Want me to make it squirt for you, Grandma?”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
   “What if I do it anyway?”
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt just to watch for a minute.”
   “I always wondered if you still got horny, Grandma.”
“No need for you to wonder anymore.”
   “I don’t know if I’ll be able to cum, I mean, squirt without some help.”
“Help?”
   “Maybe you can open your shirt up for me…?”
“Oh, honey, you don’t want to see these saggy old things.”
   “I think about your big tits a lot when I’m jerking off, Grandma.”
“My, my, do you? Well, okay, but I’m afraid you might be disappointed.”
   “Mmm, they’re better than I ever imagined. Jiggle them for me.”
“Like this?”
   “Yeah! God, look how hard your nipples are. Let me see you play with them.”
“We really shouldn’t be doing this…but it feels too good to stop.”
   “That is so fucking sexy, Grandma. I’m gonna squirt!”
“Oh, yes! Do it, honey. Cum for Grandma! Jerk that big cock for me!”
   “Ahhhhrrrrrr!”
“Goodness, look at it all! I haven’t seen a messy load like that since I was young.”
   “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that in front of you, Grandma.”
“Then it looks like we both got what we wanted.”
   “Definitely.”
“Maybe the next time you come over I’ll be the one wearing the loose shorts.”
   “Oh, really?”
“Just in case there’s something else of mine you want to see…”

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