Audio Voyeur

UPDATE: Improved version of audio file now available. See below.

I’m so fucking excited! It finally happened! I had my first real, confirmed “voyeur” experience. I’ve complained about never having seen any naked people through windows, or spotted a couple having sex on a beach, or even accidentally walked in on a family member naked. But a couple days ago I actually scored, and I can barely contain myself.

Okay, here’s the thing, I didn’t actually see anything, but I heard it. Oh boy, did I hear it. Not only that, but I was also able to record a good portion of it! Do you fucking believe it!? I still can’t.

So, here’s the story. A family member was having surgery and I had to travel a couple states away to be there for it. I went alone and stayed at a small “boutique” hotel. There were only a few rooms on each floor, but it was a somewhat classy place for a good price. As I was sitting in bed working on editing some fan fiction stuff, and I heard what I thought was a moan. My perv radar went into high alert mode. I was wary, however, after last time when I thought I was hearing some hot sex, but it turned out to be a girl with Tourette’s!

I pressed my ear to the wall, and heard what had to be a sex moan. My hand went instantly between my legs. The faint sound came again, but I realized I wasn’t hearing it through the wall as much as from my door. I went and listened there and it was definitely more distinct. I cracked the door open and wow! The sex sounds were as clear as a bell. They were coming from the room next door where I had seen a cute, young Asian couple going in earlier. I can’t even tell you how excited I was that this was actually happening for me.

I was tempted to go press my ear against the door and masturbate myself like crazy to the sounds of their lovemaking, but I didn’t dare risk getting caught. I really didn’t need to though. Standing at my door with it open just a tiny crack, I was able to hear pretty much everything. The small landing and stairs were done in some kind of marble or granite, so there were no carpets to dampen the acoustics. In fact, I think the sound was enhanced. I couldn’t believe everyone in the hotel wasn’t standing outside my door listening to the hot sex going on for all to hear!

I was afraid that I was so worked up that the experience would pass by in a flash without me really being able to fully appreciate it. That’s when I had the idea to grab my phone and record what I was hearing. I fumbled with the infernal device for minute before I found the right app and figured out how to work it, all the while in a blind panic that I was missing everything. I got it working and set it down on the threshold.

Once I got that sorted out, as you can guess, I then dropped my pajama bottoms and frigged myself like there was no tomorrow from behind my door with my ear pressed to the narrow opening. At one point I was afraid that everyone in the place might be able to hear me masturbating! The one major problem with this grand stroke of luck was that the guy in the room across from me had his TV blaring. I suppose it was good in a way because it probably meant he couldn’t hear the sex sounds and therefore wouldn’t be tempted to investigate and spoil my fun. You can hear the TV in the recording, as well as some traffic noise coming through an open window on the landing below mine. Nonetheless, the sex sounds come through loud and clear.

I made myself cum in about two minutes flat. I kept listening and rubbing my very wet pussy hoping to bring myself off a second time. But, sadly, things quieted down. Too soon! I checked my phone, praying that I worked the recorder app correctly. I hit stop (good sign, it appeared to be recording), then I pressed play to see if I actually picked up any decent sounds. Hallelujah! I’d hit the jackpot – or, should I say, the jack-off pot! I sat on my bed listening to the recording and got myself off again as it played, trying to picture the things being done to that girl’s cunt to cause those moans. I can’t even begin to tell you how thrilling it was for me to not only get to hear strangers having sex, but but also to capture it on “tape” to enjoy again and again!

I’ve been listening to the recording every chance I get, and I must have cum to it more than a dozen times in the past few days. And I’m still not over it! I’ve been dying to share this with you, but I had to convert the file and I wanted to edit out the noise from when I placed the phone then retrieved it. I’m no audio engineer, so this took me a bit to figure out. There’s a lot of background noise (hiss, TV, traffic, etc.), and it sounds a little like it was recorded in an empty auditorium. I’m sure there’s software out there to fix all that (or maybe I’m just thinking of the magical things computers can do in all those CSI-type shows), but that is well beyond my level of audio expertise (which now stands at level 0.1 – a big step up from my previous 0.0!).

I also had to do a little legal research. I know it’s illegal to record private conversations without consent, but recording in public is another matter. From what I could suss out, the sounds from my neighbor’s loud sex ceased to be private when those sounds intruded into my room. They gave up their expectation of privacy when the orgasmic noises projected beyond their private space into the public domain. I think I’m in the clear sharing this recording, but if there are any perverted lawyers out there who know differently (for certain), please let me know!

So, I have two versions of the same file: one in MP3 format, and one is a WAV file. I have no idea what the difference is, except that one is much bigger. I’m not sure if it means that one is better quality or not, but I figured I’d let you decide which one you wanted. I uploaded them both to my Dropbox and you should be able to get them using the links below.

UPDATE: With the diligent and much appreciated efforts of a dedicated reader, I have been graciously provided with a cleaned up version of my raw audio files. Most of the background noise has been eliminated and the enticing sex sounds come through much clearer now. This just keeps getting better!

Cleaned up version:

Hotel Sounds: Audio Voyeur MP3 (4 MB)

Original “raw” versions:

Hotel Sounds: Audio Voyeur MP3 (5.5 MB)

Hotel Sounds: Audio Voyeur WAV (30 MB)

Now, I must concede that this could very well be one of those “you had to be there” sort of deals. I don’t know that this will be as exciting to anyone else as it is to me, so don’t be mad at me if you listen to it and find it lame. And maybe you’ll think I’m a pathetic loser for going to such lengths to capture and share this, especially as someone who is supposed to be a mature, respectable wife and mother. But, when it comes to this, I can’t help myself. If it’s desperately pathetic to do what I did, then I guess that’s just how it is.

Now pardon me while I hit play once again and masturbate like the juvenile sex fiend that I truly am.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Open Door Policy 22

<< Chapter 1 < Chapter 21

Open Door Policy, Ch. 22
by DirtyMindedMom

Gary was sitting on the couch watching TV as I finished putting away the clean dishes. He was wearing nothing but a t-shirt; I was in nothing but a pair of panties. I loved being able to hang out (literally) with my son in this way. He looked so cute as he sat there, absently playing with his balls as he flipped through the channels. I headed over to the living room, a matter of just a few steps in the run-down shoebox of an apartment we were crammed into, and began tidying up. I made sure to bend over every chance I got to give my not-so-little man a view of my butt or my dangling tits. It didn’t take long to get his attention.

I noticed him get hard as he watched me moving about, pretending I was minding my own business.

“Hey, Mom, can you do me a favor?”

“What is it, honey?”

“First, take off your panties.”

“I’m trying to clean,” I protested mildly.

“Yeah, right. You’re trying to get me horny. And it worked.”

“As usual,” I said as I slid down my underwear and tossed them on the sofa next to him.

“Okay, now kneel down…no, in the middle of the floor.”

I had assumed he was in the market for a hummer, but apparently not. Well, at least not yet. I knelt on the floor where he pointed, wondering what he had in mind.

“Good, now sit back on your heels, like…yeah, that’s it. Spread your knees a little more…perfect. All right, now bunch up your hair and, like, hold it up on top of your head.”

I gathered my hair, gave it a twist and piled it atop my head. “Like this?”

“Yeah, but hold it there with two hands. Nice. Now just stretch your back up straight and kind of stick out your boobs.”

I followed his instructions, still at a loss as far as what we were doing. He smiled big and began stroking his hard-on, his eyes roaming over my body in the naked position he’d posed me in.

“Just like that, Mom. Fucking awesome.”

“Mind if I ask what this is all about?”

“Remember, Teddy Shaltz? In seventh grade he stole one of his dad’s old porno magazines. I think it was a Hustler. Anyway, he was selling pages of it for a dollar each, or less if there weren’t pictures on both sides. The page I bought had a woman on her knees holding her hair up the way you’re doing. It was the first porno picture I ever jerked off to.”

“And you wanted to recreate that magical moment?”

“She even looked a little like you,” Gary said as he continued to stroke himself and gawk at his very own living porno picture. “I tried not to think about that back then, but now it only makes it hotter.”

I arched my back a little more and gave him a sultry pout. “Did the picture tell you how sexy you are when you play with yourself? Or what a delicious looking cock you have?”

“Ha, not that I remember.” He squeezed his balls and jerked a little faster. “You know, you almost caught me beating off to that picture, like, four times.”

“Since you were probably jacking off around the clock back then, it’s no wonder I didn’t catch you.”

“Now I wish that you did. We could’ve started messing around a lot sooner.”

I didn’t want to be turned on by the thought of sucking my son’s cock when he was only 13 years old, but I was. I just licked my lips and winked at him instead of admitting out loud what a horribly twisted mother I’d become.

“I was so stupid back then,” he continued, never letting up on his cock, the sound of his pumping hand on his dick getting louder. “I had no idea how fucking sexy my own mom was. Back then you were just mom. I mean, I knew you were a woman and had a pretty good set of tits, but I also knew I wasn’t supposed to think about you at all when I thought of sex.”

“From what I’ve heard, it’s pretty normal for a boy to have dirty thoughts about his mom at some point while he’s growing up.” I jiggled my tits a little for him as I spoke.

“If that’s true, then I’m all kinds of normal now!” He grinned pulled harder. “I’m normal about a hundred times a day. I think about your pussy more than anything, Mom.”

“More than Valerie’s?”

“Shit, yeah. She has a nice one and I like it, but it’s just another pussy. But yours…fuuuck…” he was getting close. He pulled up his t-shirt with his non-jerking hand. “Yours is…is my mom’s pussy…it’s the best pussy in the world…I fuckin’ love it, Mom! Ahhhh yeeesss!” His butt came up off the sofa and he fired a geyser of cum straight up in the air. Most of it came down on his chest and belly, but some got on the sofa and floor.

As soon as he was done, I abandoned my pose and crawled over to him. He knew what I was after and let me get to it. I licked and sucked the spent jism from his skin, seeking out every last drop, swishing it around in my mouth before swallowing it down. How could something that comes from a cock taste so fucking good? As soon as I’d cleaned up his wonderful mess, I climbed up onto the sofa, standing on the cushions so I was straddling my son.

“Is this the pussy you love so much?” I thrust it toward his face. “Show me how much you love this cunt.”

“God, Mom, you’re so fucking horny all the time!” He grabbed an ass cheek in each hand and pulled my crotch into his face. He knew exactly what I wanted and went straight for my clit.

“Yeah, suck Mommy’s hard clitty.” I rode his face, not really worrying about whether or not he could breathe. “How could I not be horny when you always have that big cock of yours out?”

“Mmmffph.”

“And when I know just how good you’ve gotten at eating pussy.” I grabbed a handful of hair, grinding myself against his sucking mouth. “And when the taste of my baby boy’s cum is fresh on my tongue.”

He broke away long enough for a quick gasp of air and then buried his face back in my hairy cunt as quick as he could. The sloppy wet slurping sounds he was making only intensified my need to orgasm.

“Eat me! Eat your mother’s big, fat cunt! Ooooh, shiiiiiit! Uuuuuuh, yes! Yes! Fuck, yes!”

My legs gave out halfway through my climax. Gary kept his mouth fastened to my pussy and followed me as I slumped down onto the sofa, banging my head against the armrest. I hardly felt the pain as he sucked another orgasm out of me almost directly on top of the one I was already having. That son of mine was getting damned good.

I panted, laughed, and basked all at the same time. Gary continued to gently nuzzle my pussy with his nose, chin, and lips, being careful to avoid my overloaded clit. I always told myself I could never love anyone more than my son, and I still believed that, but what I didn’t know was that I could love my son even more than I already did.

“And for the record,” he said, his warm breath caressing my wetness, “you don’t have a fat cunt, Mom. You have a soft, beautiful, sexy, perfect cunt.” Each of his adjectives was punctuated with a kiss somewhere on my lower lips.

“Thanks, sweetheart, but it still feels good to say nasty stuff like that in the heat of the moment.”

“Which reminds me,” he lapped up a serving of the juices trickling from my hole, “mother sucking son of a bitch?” He looked at me and shook his head, the tip of his nose brushing across my clit with each turn of his head. His smile was hidden behind my crotch, but I knew it was there. “From the other night?”

“You don’t have to remind me,” I laughed. “I can’t be held accountable for the filthy things you make me say.”

“Oh, I see, it’s all my fault.” He climbed up on top of me, tickling as he came.

I screamed and tried to defend myself, but it was a losing battle. “Stop it!”

“Whose fault is it?” he demanded, not letting up on the tickle assault.

“Yours!” I cried. “Yours, yours, yours, aaiieee!” I couldn’t stop him, but I could distract him. I grabbed my son and pulled him to me, bringing my mouth to his. I kissed him hard, harder than I ever had before. My tongue was all over his. He responded in kind, suddenly no longer as interested in torturing me as he had been a moment earlier.

His body pressed down on mine, his weight possessing me. I could feel his cock pinned against my mound, his balls draping over my slick pussy lips.

“You know I want to fuck you, Mom.” He looked me straight in the eye. “You know that, right?”

“I know, sweetheart, but…”

“We can’t,” he finished for me, then followed that with more kisses. “But you want to, don’t you? You want my cock inside you, Mom, I can tell. I know you want to fuck me as much as I want to fuck you.”

I didn’t want to admit it out loud, even though we both knew it was the truth. It was as if saying it would make it real, and if it was real it could happen. It was idiotic logic, but nothing about all this made much sense anyway.

Maybe if I didn’t say anything and just kept kissing him he would force the issue. He could have shoved his cock into me with the smallest effort and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. He could take me and there’d be nothing I could do. It would be easy for me to let that happen, but I knew I shouldn’t. I couldn’t.

“I do, honey, I do want you to fuck me, but I can’t let that happen.” As I spoke he tucked his face alongside mine, kissing my neck, further weakening my already faltering resolve. “What we have is good, isn’t it?”

“So good,” he murmured near my ear as he nibbled a lobe. “And it could be even better.”

“We don’t know that for sure, baby. Maybe at first, but then we don’t know. It could end up tearing us apart.”

“Or bringing us closer together.” His hips were moving in circular thrusts. It was all I could do not to respond by wrapping my legs around him and letting him inside.

“There’s no reason for us to rush,” I was trying to convincing myself as much as I was him. “We’ll always be together. I’m your mother, and you’re my son. I’m not going anywhere. Maybe that will happen someday, maybe not. Let’s not think about that now and just enjoy what we have.”

“It would feel so good,” he said, continuing to plead his case. And a pretty convincing case it was.

“I know, honey, it would. But this feels good, too, doesn’t it? Rubbing your hard cock against Mommy’s furry pussy. Being between my legs, my naked tits against your chest, letting me taste my own cunt on your lips.”

“Fuck, Mom…”

I grabbed his ass and encouraged him to keep humping on me. “See, this is good. It’s almost like you’re fucking me, right? Just imagine you’re inside me now. Sliding in and out of Mommy’s hot, wet cunt.”

He pressed harder into me, grinding his hard-on against my pubic bone, the head of his cock smearing pre-cum over the softness of my lower belly. “I would fuck you so good, Mom.”

“I know you would, baby.” His thrusts became stronger, pressing me deeper into the sofa cushions with each stroke. I could only imagine how amazing it would feel if that power was directed into my pussy. “You’d fuck me better than any man could.”

His kisses landed on my cheeks, my lips, and my neck as he worked himself against me. If anyone were there to see us, it would look like we were fucking. I wished there was a mirror next to us so I could see what that would look like for myself. Would it really be so terrible to let him do it? Was I exaggerating the potential consequences of allowing my son to put his beautiful cock inside my achingly wet pussy? I reminded myself that I’d made that choice when I was more clear minded. This moment of incestuous passion was not the time to be second guessing that decision. I had to take my own advice and simply enjoy what pleasures there were to be had.

“I’m going to cum, Mom.” He moved quicker, his jaw tightening, and his face assuming that look he gets as he approaches his moment of crisis.

“Yeah, give me that cum. Fuck me, baby. Fuck me! Fuck your mother!”

That was all it took. His expression contorted into a mask of tormented ecstasy. His animal grunts of physical satisfaction stirred the woman within me. I wasn’t his mother in that moment, I was his lover. The warm, slippery wetness of his sperm spread between our bellies. He whimpered helplessly as his body lurched, spilling even more potent fluid from his balls. The pungent smell of his cum filled my senses. His back was sweaty from the carnal labors, and I gripped my son to me as he finally relaxed.

I held him like that for a long while and was content to go on doing so as long as he’d let me. There was a pang of mild regret when he finally stirred.

“I love you, Mom.” That helped to allay the regret. “And I don’t just mean because of the things you let me do with you.” He kissed me softly on the lips. “I love you just for being you.” He let me kiss him back. “And for being the best mom any guy could hope for.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” I realized my hands were groping his tight ass again. “And I’m not just saying that because you happen to be the owner of my favorite cock in the whole world.” I didn’t want to get all weepy, but I was close. “You’re a wonderful son. I don’t think I could have handled my marriage falling apart without you here by my side. You think I’m a mess now, try to imagine me whacked out on wine and anti-depressants every night!”

“I’ll always be here by your side, Mom. No matter what.”

That did it. Cue the water works. I hugged him close so he wouldn’t see the tears trickling down my cheeks. It might have been a touching scene between mother and son if it weren’t for the fact that we were both naked, his hard cock was mashed against my pussy, and there was a load of his fresh cum drying on my belly. It didn’t matter to me. What was important was that the love was there, and I felt secure in believing it always would be.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Mom? What’s this all about?”

I looked up from trimming my pussy hair to see Gary standing in the open doorway of the bathroom holding up a used condom. I tried not to let him see me panic.

“Hmph. Looks like one of your condoms.” I shrugged nonchalantly and pretended to go back to my pubic grooming.

“Yeah, but why was it under your pillow?”

“Don’t know. Maybe I meant to throw it away and it just ended up there.” Damn, why didn’t I have a better explanation prepared?

“Okay, but why isn’t there anything inside it? Where did the jizz go, Mom?” He waited with an evil smile to see what I would come up with next.

“It probably leaked out…or something…”

“Did it leak out, Mom? Or was it more like ‘something’?”

“Fine, I’m busted.” I rinsed the razor and splashed some warm water from the sink onto my pussy. I put down the lid of the toilet and sat down, being sure to keep my legs spread. Maybe if I distracted him with some freshly trimmed twat he wouldn’t be as disgusted with me.

“I’m listening,” he said, dangling the incriminating spent rubber from between his thumb and forefinger.

“You know how much I love your cum, right? Well, sometimes after you fucked Valerie I kind of borrow your used condoms.”

“What for?” He wasn’t going to let me off easy.

“I…I…” My shoulders slumped. There was no way I could say it without sounding like a complete degenerate. “When you’re not around, I squeeze your cum out of the condom onto my tits and pussy, then masturbate.”

“What about your pretty asshole?”

I nodded shamefully. “There, too.”

“Is that all?” He had his suspicions.

“No…” In for a penny. “I sometimes squeeze some of it out into my mouth.”

“Wow, Mom. You eat your own son’s cum from a condom that he used to fuck his teenaged girlfriend.” He shook his head in mock astonishment. “I’m having trouble picturing that.” He withdrew his hand from behind his back and held up another condom. This one had a big load of cum in it. “How about you show me.”

I was beyond embarrassed at that point, but that didn’t stop my pussy from tingling at the prospect.

“Gary, no…you don’t want to see that.”

“Hey, I get it, Mom. I can’t always be around to give you all the cum you need, but if you want to make sure your reserve supplies don’t mysteriously disappear, then all you have to do is give me a little demonstration. No biggie.”

It was a silly threat, but I can’t deny it worried me. As revolted as I was with myself after every time I resorted to playing with one of his used condoms, I always knew I would do it again.

“Well, if you’re going to blackmail me, then I guess I have no choice.” I knew I’d given in too easyily, but neither one of us cared.

I snatched the filled condom from him as I passed on my way to his bedroom. He followed me in, stripping off his t-shirt and boxers as he did. I got onto his bed and inspected my prize. It was still warm, meaning he probably jerked off into it right before he confronted me. It seemed a waste since he could have just as easily dumped that load straight into my mouth, but this was my penance for not being more careful about leaving evidence of my perversion lying around.

“I don’t know who the bigger freak is. Me for doing this, or you for wanting to watch it.”

He just grabbed his erection and grinned.

I started by working a small portion of the semen up from the resevoir end to the opening. I let it dribble out onto one tit, then the other. The sick thrill of doing something so reprehensibly nasty sparkled deep inside of me. I then repeated the process with a bigger glob. This time I directed the pearly outflow over my clit. I set the remainder aside and relaxed, enjoying the tickly sensation of the cum oozing down over my lips. Once it had reached my hole, I spread it around, lubing up my pussy with my son’s jism.

That’s when I noticed Gary was recording me with his cell phone. I was going to protest, but I knew I wouldn’t win that argument. Besides, I liked the idea that my boy would rather beat off to a video of me instead of the younger and hotter girls he could see whenever he wanted on the internet.

“When you’re not around, I have to do some very naughty things to make up for it,” I began narrating in a seductive porno voice. “I start by pouring some of your spunk on my big tits and horny pussy. And then…” I grabbed one of my boobs and pulled it up. I leaned down and licked my own nipple, tasting the spent cum that was coating it. I flicked my tongue, teasing myself some more before sucking my nipple and areola into my mouth. I sucked until it was clean, then moved to the other. Gary was stroking himself as he recorded it all.

“Then I masturbate.” My hands slid down my body. “I love masturbating my cunt…especially when it’s all covered in my son’s hot jizz.” I rubbed my clit, caressed my lips, and fingered my hole.

Gary moved around to the foot of the bed to get a more graphic angle. I opened my legs wide. “I also like to play with my tight asshole…” I slipped a finger down to my anus and circled my touch around it, spreading a liberal mix of cum and pussy juice there. “I like to pretend it’s your tongue down there licking me.” My finger pushed into my rear hole with little effort. “It’s so good when my boy licks his mommy’s dirty, dirty asshole.”

While I fucked my butt with one hand, I brought the other to my clit and began masturbating in earnest. “I think about my son’s cock when I masturbate. I think about how big it is.” I normally take my time when I’m playing with his cum alone, but having him right there was too exciting for me to hold back. “I think about how good it feels. I love everything about that cock. How it smells…how it feels in my mouth.” I was getting close. It was too fast, but I couldn’t slow down. “And especially how it tastes.”

With that I made a grab for the condom. I took the open end in my mouth, capturing the rubber ring behind my teeth, then upended it. I couldn’t wait for gravity to do its thing as I usually did and began sucking. Gary got right up close with the camera, capturing my depravity in glorious high definition.

“I love eating my boy’s cum,” I said with a thick gargle in my voice. “I can’t get enough.”

As I sucked the last drops from the used condom, I felt my climax coming on quickly. My hand worked my cum-soaked pussy hard and fast. Gary moaned and thrust his cock at my face. I opened up my mouth just in time to catch the first of half a dozen powerfully ejected spurts of new cum.

I collected every one in my mouth, opening up wide so he could get a shot of it all, then swallowed it down in two big gulps. That did it. My orgasm seized me and I temporarily lost control of myself. There was screaming and thrashing, moaning and spasming, then sighing and going limp. Gary continued filming my afterglow for half a minute more. I licked my lips and winked just before he hit stop.

“God, Mom, that was fucking hot.” He dangled his semi-hard dick near my face. I accepted the invitation and took his mushroom head between my lips and suckled him like I was a nursing child. “From now on I’ll just save my rubbers for you after I bang Valerie so you don’t have to sneak and steal them anymore.”

“I raised such a thoughtful boy,” I said only half-jokingly. I was actually kind of relieved to have this dirty secret out in the open, especially now that I knew my supply of emergency sperm would be much easier to come by after this.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was Friday night and I was alone. Gary was out with friends. I was doing my best not to be jealous because, as I kept telling myself, it was a good thing that he was making friends at his new school and it was what normal. Normal was something that he needed more of, especially with his mother behaving like a sex-crazed nut case.

I tried to read a book, but couldn’t. I flipped through the TV wasteland for a bit, but noting could hold my attention. I was horny. No two ways about it. I told myself I could wait until Gary got home, but it was becoming increasingly clear that I couldn’t. I went and got my son’s laptop with the vague intention of checking in at the online hook-up site we’d signed me up on a couple weeks earlier. I just wanted to see if I had any messages. It’s not like I was going to run out and try to score a quickie with some random guy. Though that would probably do the trick.

After sifting through the dozen or so crude messages from guys who were apparently doing little more than flat out asking every woman on the site if they wanted to fuck or suck a “big” cock. So much for casual sex romance! I was considering doing a little porn surfing, then I noticed the file for the video Gary had recorded the other day sitting on his desktop. I clicked on it and watched myself acting like a cum-addicted whore. There was plenty there that was cringe worthy, but every once in a while he panned down to his hard cock as he stroked it. This was enough to keep me watching.

It was also enough to get me out of my clothes. When the video was done, I was much wetter than when it had started. I checked for the others and found a folder labeled “Best Porn.” Inside were all the pictures and videos he had of me. I found the one where he had given me the camera. I knew that one would feature a lot of him beating off.

I started it up, skipped past the beginning, which was mostly me stripping and fingering myself. When I got to the part I was looking for, I settled back, ready to enjoy the show. Damn, that boy’s cock was as close to perfect as possible. I admit that I might be a tad biased, but everything about it enthralled me. The head was the perfect shape and size. His cute little pee hole just begged to be kissed and licked. That thick shaft. Even the bulging veins along his length were somehow arousing to me. Then there were his balls. Two perfect orbs, hanging just so in that delicate pouch, bouncing with each beat, full of the sperm I craved.

I had three fingers inside my hole, trying to imagine that it was my son’s beautiful cock. I knew this orgasm was going to be good, but not nearly as good as what it would be if he were in the room with me. How was it that a boy with almost no experience was the best lover I’d ever had, despite the fact that he hadn’t even fucked me yet. I immediately edited myself, deleting the word “yet” from my last thought. Despite the fact that he won’t ever fuck me.

My orgasm was getting close, but the recording was coming to its climax before I was ready. I reset it back a minute and continued pumping my fingers into my increasingly wet pussy. I wanted to cum right when Gary shoots his load on my pussy. I fucked myself fast, making sure the timing would be perfect. That’s when there was a quiet knock at my door.

I slammed the laptop closed like the police had just stormed into the apartment. Maybe I was hearing things. The knock came again, a little louder but not by much.

“Just a minute,” I called out, scrambling to get some clothes on.

It couldn’t be Gary, and I wasn’t expecting anyone. Maybe it was the police! Had one of the neighbors figured out what was going on and turned me in? A single woman and her son alone in this tiny apartment doesn’t fit with the sounds of loud sex coming out of our place on an almost daily basis. I should have been more careful! I had to learn to be quieter!

I went to the door, afraid of what might be waiting for me on the other side. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

I exhaled that deep breath as a sigh of relief when I saw it was Valerie’s mother. I was about to say what a nice surprise it was to see her when I noticed the swelling around her left cheek and eye.

“Vera! Oh God, what happened? Come in, come in!”

“I sorry to bother you. I did not know where I could go.” She had obviously been crying and was on the verge of breaking down again.

I led her to a chair in the kitchenette. “Let me get you some ice.”

“It is no trouble,” she insisted, trying to hold onto her pride. “It is nothing.”

I ignored her protests and put some ice in a ziplock bag and wrapped it in a clean dish cloth. She held it to her cheek, thanking me with her eyes.

“Tell me what happened,” I said as I sat down with her.

“I told Ernesto – this is my husband – that I know about his whores and I am not happy.” The tears welled. “And I say no more of that, and he is bad husband.” Her throat tightened and I quickly fetched her a glass of water. After a few sips, she went on. “He get very angry. He yell and scream and knock some things down, but I no back down. I yell and scream to him. I told him I no afraid and want a divorce from him.” The tears fell. “That’s when he go crazy and he do this.” She lifted the ice pack briefly to show what she meant. “He hit me other places, but not so bad.” Vera looked heavenward and muttered something in Spanish – or was it Portuguese? – either way, I didn’t understand it. “I do not know what to do.”

“You should call the police.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I cannot do that. He would lose his job, and my family would find out. No, no, no.”

“Well, you certainly can’t stay there.”

“I don’t have nowhere to go. My sister, she lives far away in Florida. My other family is in Brasil.”

“You can stay here. Yes, you can stay here until we find you a place of your own.”

“No, Gary’s mom, I cannot do that. I only need to get away from my house for a few minutes, then I go back.”

“Vera, you can’t do that. You can’t let him treat you like he did. You already did the hard part. If you don’t finish what you started, it will only happen again and you will be miserable the whole time.”

“I know, I know,” she said sadly, unable to look at me. “What you say is true, but…”

“But nothing. We’ll go get your things right now.”

“But there’s Cristoban and Valencia…”

“We’ll get them, too,” I pronounced with more confidence than I felt. What was I getting myself into? Vera took the ice pack away from her face and moved it to her shoulder. Seeing the bruise that was already forming on her cheek and under her eye strengthened my determination. “You can all stay here.”

She looked around my pathetic excuse for an apartment and laughed, even in as much pain as she was in. “We can’t. How can we all fit?”

“We’ll make it work. I promise this is the best thing you can do right now.” I took her hand and held it tight. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Please let me help you.”

She hesitated, took one more doubtful look around, then nodded, giving me a weak smile. “You are right. I must be strong and do what is right to do. No just for me, but for my children.” She put the ice pack down and drew herself up straight. “I will like to accept your help, Gary’s mom.”

“Joanne.”

She nodded and held back more tears. “Thank you, Joanne.”

We stood and hugged. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I couldn’t just turn my back on this poor woman. I then suddenly became aware of the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra under my blouse, or panties under my jeans. Not only that, but my fingers must have reeked of pussy. If Valerie’s mother opened Gary’s laptop right now she’d see a paused video of him spraying a load of cum on my hairy cunt. The grander repercussions of what I’d just committed to began to sink in.

No more open door policy…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter 23 >>

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Back to the Grind

Cecily Strong and I have a lot in common!
~ click image to view video ~

I recently had a question from a horny reader asking me to expound on the feelings I get when I masturbate by humping my pussy against something – these days it’s usually the hard corner of a table or the soft edge of a sofa arm. I’m not sure I can do it justice, but I’ll see what I can do.

Like many young girls, I discovered that rubbing my crotch on things felt good. Even though I didn’t begin deliberately giving myself orgasms by this method until I was 13ish, I had been known to enjoy the pleasure of straddling the monkey bars, pressing my cunny against the corner of the ottoman, or sitting on my father’s knee horsey style and going for a little ride. I didn’t equate those sensations with sex back then, I just knew that it felt nice.

With puberty, those feelings got nicer. I was much more aware of the sexual associations between my pussy and the good feelings I could get by lying face down and rhythmically pressing my hips over one of those high spots on my mattress where a spring was. It didn’t take long before I figured out that if I flexed my inner muscles at the same time, the feeling got even better. My next advancement in masturbation technology was putting one or both of my hands underneath my mound of newly sprouted pubes to give me something more substantial to grind against. This was only ever done late at night, lights off, under the covers, in my pajamas.

No one ever told me about masturbation or that it should be kept private, but once I started humping my hands, I was certain I was doing something bad – or, at least, something I should be embarrassed about doing. I knew I was being a weirdo, and I didn’t want anyone to know what I was doing, especially because I was the only girl in the whole world who did something so perverted!

It’s hard for me to say when exactly I had my first orgasm. I hear a lot of stories from woman who can pinpoint it to an exact WHAM! moment, when all of the sudden this new world of sexual awareness opens up to them and they know it. For me, it happened more as a gradual continuum. It felt good, it felt better, then awesome, then oh wow, oh wow, yes, this is my new favorite thing forever! I don’t ever remember that WHAM! moment, but certainly somewhere along the way I went from making myself feel good to having legitimate orgasms.

So, that was then. Now I’d say that about 60% of my solo masturbation is fingers, 30% toys, and maybe 5-10% humping or grinding (the frequency can change depending on my mood), with the balance being “other.” Almost all of my grinding is done around the house using whatever piece of furniture happens to be turning me on at the moment. I’ve also been known to use the edge of the kitchen counter, or the edge of a display case at work on a couple of desperately indiscreet occasions.

I pretty much always hump stuff wearing some kind of pants or shorts, or if I’m puttering around in my undies I’ll just have panties on. Having some kind of fabric covering my crotch helps keep the grinding smooth and seems to distribute the pressure better. I also don’t end up leaving a snail trail on the arm rest of the couch! Plus, humping a corner or edge tends to be a more spur of the moment thing for me, rather than a planned pleasure session. I’ll often just be going about doing some bit of housework, my mind churning over story ideas or planning my next blog post, and next thing I know I’m riding the corner of my dining room table.

What appeals to me about it is that it’s a different sensation from any of my other masturbation methods. Not having my hands involved changes what I have to do to get off. Strangely, it’s a lot like having sex. To make myself cum, I have to move my body, most specifically my hips. That motion elicits all sorts of other associations in my mind, and it’s easy to imagine that I’m fucking someone. It’s also somewhat less direct. I’m not actually touching my naked clit with a finger or vibrator, and there’s nothing directly stimulating that collection of nerve endings at the entrance of my vagina. This makes the whole process slower, slightly frustrating, and so much more satisfying when you finally get there.

I rarely use my adolescent technique of lying on my hands, or fucking a pillow. I do it using this method maybe a few times a year. It still feels good, but half the time I give up and just finish myself with my fingers. I think the added weight and pressure of doing it standing makes it quicker and more gratifying. Lying on the bed or floor and going at it like a spastic frog in heat for fifteen minutes can be fun, but I often don’t have the patience for it.

I love to masturbate with and for my husband. However, I’ve never let him see me rub one out like that. I’ve obviously humped his body while we’re fooling around (grinding my cunt on his leg as I suck his cock, for instance), but he’s never seen me fuck a piece of furniture. I suppose I would share this with him if he ever expressed an interest, but I don’t know that I would let him watch me hump my hands or a pillow in bed. Maybe there are still some feelings of guilt and embarrassment wrapped up with making myself cum by that method, but it would just be too weird for me.

Well, I’m pretty sure I did a lousy job of answering the question, but that’s the best I can do for now. I’ve been pausing to press my hands between my legs every few minutes as I was writing this, and now I’m all charged up and ready to go. I have no choice but to hump something after all that. I’m thinking that I should try something new. A doorknob? The bannister? The corner of the toy box in the girls’ room? Or should I go old school and find some monkey bars? Maybe when it warms up a little more – brrr!

Here’s a nice compilation of humpers from I Feel Myself to help polish yourself off:

Humping Masturbation Overload

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Secret is Out!

Somebody stop me! I’ve gone and done it again – made more work for myself. I just hope I’m not jerking off more than I can swallow.

I’ve just launched my latest naughty project: Family Secrets!

Family Secrets is a new “sub-blog” (kinda like the photo captions blog), that features real stories from real people. I get messages from a lot of readers eager to share their true family sex experiences and memories with me, and I find these endlessly fascinating (and arousing). I’m counting on my sense that there’s need out there to share these kinds of stories with someone (or someones) who will not only understand, but accept their feelings about these taboo events without judgement or denunciation.

On the other side of the coin are people like me. Those who fantasize about family relations, but due to relationship dynamics or lack of conviction are unable to make that leap and are deeply intrigued by the experiences of those who have done what we can only dream about. If my intuition is right, then I believe we could create something very interesting around this new blog space.

I don’t want to blather on much more about it here, other than to insist that as soon as you’re done reading this post that you click on the little link up top that says “Secrets” and go check out the new digs. I have a post there that goes into some more detail about the project, along with even more stuff on the About page. There are also guidelines for submitting your own experience if you’re interested (and I know you are). But, most important of all, please read the debut story One Summer Night by Anne. She has shared a great experience with us, and she is my new hero for being bold enough to put herself on the line like she has. And don’t you dare not leave a comment!

I don’t know how sustainable this new blog will be. I guess it will entirely depend on how many people are willing to submit their true stories. We’ll see how it goes and if at some point the supply of family experiences dwindles, maybe we can evolve the site into something broader (first time I saw a penis/pussy, my first orgasm, how I lost my virginity, etc.). Just a thought…

On a vaguely related note, several people have asked me over the past couple years about traffic at my blog. To be honest, I’ve done almost nothing to keep up with this. When I first set things up, I activated a Google anal-ytics traffic thingie, but then I’ve only looked at it maybe once or twice. I went back the other day and checked it out. If I’m reading it correctly (which I’m probably not), it looks like I’ve got more visitors than I expected. I pretty much base my impression of how much traffic I get from the comments and emails I receive, which I suppose is a very poor way to measure such things. Anyway, below is the screenshot of the overview page if you’re interested. I don’t know how to tease out the numbers to tell if this is all real traffic or falsely bolstered by spambot hits, but here it is:

Oh, and one last thing! Happy Valentine’s Day! Not only that, but I just realized yesterday that it’s also the one year anniversary of losing my anal virginity. After our initial spate of rabid butt fucking, me and hubby have settled down to a comfortable two or three times a month of me taking it in the ass. I keep my backdoor in shape by using my butt plug at least once or twice a week while I’m masturbating. It’s been a very gratifying addition to our sexual toolbox for both of us, and the only downside is that I didn’t get on board with this whole third input thing years ago!

Oops, and one more last thing! I want to send a big THANK YOU out to everyone who has sent me stories, fan fiction, photo captions, and experiences to post. It’s a lot of work to keep up with it all, and I hope you can forgive me if I’m often slow to get things out there, but I find it incredibly invigorating that so many people want to participate in my nasty fun in such creative and arousing ways. Who knew perverts could be so talented!? I love you all! Kisses and Hugz!

Now go give your significant other, significant toy, or significant hand some extra special lovin’ for V-Day!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mom, What’s A.T.M.?

I ran across a couple of YouTube clips the other day that made me laugh and turned me on a little (always a potent combination). It features moms being quizzed about porn terms to see if they know what they mean. Good fun for the whole family!

At first I was laughing because of how clueless these ladies were. “How could anyone not know what a Glory Hole is!?” Then I began to realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with them – I was the freak! I knew every term and would have easily run the board. (I would have also been the most boring “contestant” and been edited out). I was confronted with what the scope of knowledge of most “normal” moms is, and it generally doesn’t include DP, BBC, and Bukakke! Who’d a thunk? I was suddenly feeling like the frog in the pan of boiling water.

I used to be like them. Then I dipped my toe into the digital cesspool we all have come to love so much. Nothing worse than a racy story here and there. Then the celebrity sex tape hype got to me, and I had to satisfy my prurient curiosity. This led to tube sites and the cavalcade of naked body parts available to me at my whim. I had been perfectly happy masturbating to my fantasies, just me and my fingers – no vibrators, no porn, nothing up my butt. But, once I’d opened Pandora’s Box (the one she keeps hidden under her bed), my curiosity became voracious. Little by little the corrupting heat was turned up without me noticing, and now I’m boiling in the juices of my own depravity.

In spite of this “cum to Jesus” moment, I’ve realized that I’m not all that bothered by it. At least not as much as I should be – or maybe not as much as the me from years ago would be. My descent into the porn pit has had many positive effects on me and my life. I feel that my sex life with my husband is more robust than it would have otherwise been at this point in our marriage. Even with two kids and a house to take care of, I get myself so worked up on a regular basis that I’m never “too” tired to get jiggy with my old man (Are the kids still saying that? Jiggy? God, I’m too damn hip for my own good! LOL).

I’ve also learned a lot about myself. Writing about my own incest fantasies, and hearing from others about theirs, has liberated a part of me that I’d kept locked down in a dark place for most of my life. I’m not running around telling friends and neighbors that I want to suck my brother’s cock while my dad reams my pussy and my mom watches, but I also don’t feel like I’m an unworthy deviant for having these kinds of feelings and fantasies.

On top of that, my explorations in porn (both writing and watching) have opened me up sexually in ways I most likely wouldn’t have. Even a year into my writing “career,” I was firmly opposed to anything bigger than a finger being inserted in my asshole. As you know, that has certainly changed (much to hubby’s and my delight). I used to assiduously avoid fantasizing about sex with other women, but now I’m not at all bothered when a friend, neighbor or my daughter’s teacher shows up in the middle of one of my mental sex scenes and starts going down on me. Who knows where that might lead…?

Geez, I intended for this to be a 2 or 3 paragraph post! See what happens when you guys get me talking about myself! I decided that if I ever get billionaire money, that I’m going to (among other things) start an internet game show based on these mom clips. Normal, unsuspecting moms will somehow compete for prizes by having to answer dirty questions or explain kinky sexual acts and fetishes. I haven’t worked out all the details yet, but I love the idea of putting otherwise naïve moms on the spot.

How do you think your mom would do if given a porn quiz like this?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

P.S. My blog here is getting swamped with spam in the comment section. I’m able to weed it out, but it’s time consuming (and annoying). I’m but in a temporary filter that shunts comment with “HTTP” in it to the spam folder automatically. This means that if you want to include a .com link in a comment, it won’t get through. If you have a hot link that you want to share, drop me an email and we’ll figure something out. Now we return you to your regularly scheduled masturbation session.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~