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Author’s note: The following story is true. The events actually happened, although some of the names and the dates were…

(What follows is a work of fiction. All readers must be over eighteen years of age. It is suggested that readers use their most open minds, but, since some have nothing resembling such, this cannot be made a requirement for enjoying the story. If you are one of those poor, unfortunate thinkers who have lost the key of acceptance and cannot open their minds, please don’t continue reading what you know will stir up your righteous indignation.)Chapter OneMy Dad made mistakes the year I was 18. He was a deputy sheriff in Oklahoma City. He was busted for dealing pounds of methamphetamine, and given thirty-five years. Because he was a lawman, he was put in solitary confinement. Putting ex-lawmen in solitary confinement is a clever way of letting the general prison population know they’re cops. I was just finishing the drawing I was going to send him for my 19 Christmas, when I found out he had beaten himself up and then hung himself in his cell at the prison at Lexington.Mom made some mistakes, too, but hers were more innocent…at least at first. After Dad beat himself to death, Mom grieved for about a year, about the appropriate time for a wife-beater who was wired all the time. Then she started dressing more attractively. She also started taking the stairs to and from the third-floor law office where she was a legal secretary. She had some extra weight to take off if she hoped to find a husband who wouldn’t take off, she said. When she fell down the stairs and broke her arm in seventeen places, her job as well as her motivation to exercise ceased.Mom had no choice. She was alone in Oklahoma City without a husband or a job. She also had a hungry, growing teenaged son. She packed our belongings in the back of her Ford Country Squire station wagon and drove us the one hundred and twenty miles from OKC to Hanging Tree, Oklahoma–the strangest smalltown in the world.Hanging Tree was named after a hanging tree that still stood–after two hundred proud years of evil–in the yard of the courthouse square in the center of the tiny town. The tree had been used for hanging in the previous century first by the “civilized” Native Americans then by the “cultured” European invaders. Ropes tied to its strongest and most accessible limb had ended hundreds of lives over the years. I thought the town was going to end my life without the courtesy of a noose.Mom moved us in with her widowed mother in a white clapboard house at the southskirts of Hanging Tree. From the moment we moved in, there was trouble. Trouble was named Stanley. Stanley was my cousin, but he wasn’t proud of that fact. To him, my father’s disgrace was mine and my mother’s as well. He was a thick-skulled, ex-Marine, 18 years older than I was, but he became my personal demon. He didn’t like the idea that Mom and I were living with his grandma, increasing her burden in her golden years. He loved his grandma. He respected his grandma like any good military man. When he came over and threatened to kill me if I didn’t leave, I told him to go fuck himself, so he decided to change tactics. That’s why he told Grandma Russell that I’d been having sex with my mother since Dad went to prison. It was his way of gently motivating his beloved grandmother to do the right thing and kick us out.I had just walked into the yard at Grandma’s house. I’d been across town at a friend’s house smoking pot. I loved the way pot made me feel, and the fact that it was illegal only made me feel closer to my dead Dad. Grandma was out in the yard, hanging washing on the clothes line. They liked hanging things in Hanging Tree. I had no idea my grandmother was waiting to hang me up for the rest of my life.As I walked into the yard, Grandma Russell said, “Micheal, come here! I want to talk to you!”She sounded serious, so I stopped in the yard and said, “What you want, Grandma?”She walked her bony, wrinkled ass, working her elbows for propulsion, and came quickly across the yard to where I stood by the gate. When she got two feet from me, she stopped, put one hand on a hip, and shook the index finger of her other hand in my face. Taken aback, I said, “What’s the deal, Grandma?”“Micheal Russell, have you been having sex with your mother?” The finger in my face wagged out each word. “Stanley was over here this morning and said you’ve been doing it with your mother ever since your father went to prison and died! If you have, you had just better confess your sin so I can pray for you!”I looked at her. I started to speak, but words wouldn’t come. I was shocked beyond tears or self-defense. From my 18-year-old viewpoint, I was living through a hell on earth. My father had been disgraced, imprisoned, and killed. My mother had disabled herself, and we’d had to move from Oklahoma City to a scab like Hanging Tree. I had been getting one or two pimples that made me self-conscious. We had no money, I had no friends, and now my grandmother was accusing me of fucking my mother!“No, Grandma! No! Christ!”“Don’t you use the name of the Savior in vain, young man. You’re in enough trouble with Heaven for having carnal knowledge of your own sweet mother and her with one bad arm!”“But I didn’t! I didn’t have sex with Mom! Grandma! Stanley’s lying! Why are you so quick to believe something like that just because my sick cousin Stanley says it’s so?”She looked at me with hidden disappointment dawning as she realized that it probably wasn’t true. She had been ready for a battle against the devil for my soul and Momma’s pussy. Now that she began to believe I was telling the truth (and at the time I was), she became embarrassed. But it was a strange embarrassment.Instead of acting as if she were embarrassed about what she had said, she acted as if she were naked in front of me. When a woman is simply apologizing for being irrational, she doesn’t cover her clothed breasts with her arm, or splay her hand over her clothed pussy. I was young, but I read a lot. I knew the signs, and there was no mistaking the look in Grandma’s eyes. She was as turned on as a cat in heat.She took the hand that had symbolically hidden her pussy and put it on my arm. She smiled at me and laid her head against my shoulder. I couldn’t believe what seemed to be happening. Then she removed any doubt. Putting her other hand on the bulge in the front of my jeans, my grandmother said, “Since your grandfather died, it seems like my old cunt does all my thinking for me.”The longer Grandma massaged my dick through my jeans, the more forgiving I became. “Your Mom is going to be in Tulsa till late tonight. Let’s go in the house,” she said. I was easily led.We went to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and pulled me close to her. With a wicked gleam dancing in her old eyes, Grandma undid my belt and fly, took out my rock-hard eight inches (the only thing Dad left me), and dove for it like a big-mouthed bass for a spinner. I’d never experienced the like before, but Grandma had. She knew just what to do, grabbing my ass, twirling the tip of her tongue around the head of my dick as it bobbed in and out of her mouth. In what seemed like moments, I was holding the back of Grandma’s head with both hands and squirting cum into her throat. She moaned as she sucked. My head was reeling from the orgasm and from the thought of what I was doing.When she’d sucked me dry, she sat back, wiped her lips, smiled at me and said, “Now…you may not be fucking your mother, but you can fuck your old grandma’s pussy if you want.” She pulled her feet up on the bed, pulled up the hem of her dress, spread her legs, and scooted her hips forward on the bed. I reached down and grabbed her panties and pulled them down her skinny thighs and off over her tiny feet. She reached down and spread her inner lips. My dick got hard again.I kneeled on the bed and positioned myself between her thighs. Grandma reached in the front of her dress and pulled out a long, hard-nippled breast. Then she reached between my legs and grabbed my cock. “Oh, God forgive me! Heaven knows I need this!” Then she put the head of my dick between her moist lips. She threw her arms around my lower back and slammed me into her sixty-year-old snatch. It was warm, and soft, and I was hooked.In the limited day to day evaluation of a teenage boy, I became quite fond of life in Hanging Tree. I went to school where I was a slightly shy new kid with few friends, but when I came home I had plenty of opportunities to relieve the day’s stresses. Every time Mom was out of the house, I’d fuck Grandma like we were newlyweds. I had her all over the house. She made me like the forbidden aspect of our lovemaking by being up front with her wickedness. Sometimes I’d worry about people coming to the door, because when I was sliding my big dick in and out of Grandma’s lush, withered cunt, she’d shout things like, “That’s it. That’s it, son! Fuck Grandma’s pussy hard! Oh, you grandmotherfucker!”Mom never let on that she knew. I found out that Grandma had told her soon after it began, but Mom played dumb. Then on the night of July 4th, 1979, Mom and Grandma started getting ready to go somewhere. I came in the house and went to the refrigerator to get a Dr. Pepper. I noticed them getting ready and asked where they were going.“You’re going too,” Grandma said. “Go get cleaned up some.”“Where am I going?” I asked Mom who came into the kitchen, asking me to zip her up. (Her right arm was still weak from the fall.)“We’re going to a special Bible study,” Mom said, smiling over her shoulder at me after I pulled the zipper to her neckline.“Ah, Mom. I don’t want to go to church.” We didn’t make it a habit of going to church. Dad had been a nonbeliever, and Mom hadn’t made a big thing of her beliefs if she had any. I had come to the conclusion that God was a story like Santa Claus that they told you to convince you to be good.With Mom standing right in front of me, smiling at me and working to put her earring on, Grandma walked right up to me and grabbed my bulge. She’d never done anything like that in front of Mom before. I looked at Mom’s face, expecting surprise, and saw only that kindly light she always shined at her only child. Grandma said, “You’ll like this Bible study, you hard-dicked sweetheart. Now go get ready!” She gave my bulge a squeeze that made me see stars. I went to comb my hair.It was indeed a “special” Bible study, but I wondered then, and I still wonder, how unique it was. Christianity, in its more fundamentalist forms, is a repressive disease that starves its practioners for sex. If there were no Christianity, there would be a hundred times less perversion. Christianity forces people to deny their sexuality until it bursts forth in slightly twisted eruptions. I wondered how many churches across the nation has special meetings that only the more sensual Biblethumpers attended.The Bible study was held at a house in the country. When we pulled up about sunset, there were six cars parked carelessly around the circular drive at the front of the expensive home. Grandma parked the station wagon, and we went inside.A beautiful blonde girl of about twelve years met us at the front door and escorted us to a large inner room. There were eleven people in the room. Our number would bring the total to a multiple of seven. I learned that this was thought to be important. The young blonde introduced us to the assembly by happily proclaiming, “The seventh family is here! Here they are! The seventh family is here.”The room was furnished with style. The walls were covered with bright abstract paintings and the leaves of potted plants set all around its perimeter. The open square of the center of the room was bordered by long, plush, white couches. We sat in one corner of the fence of couches, and a tall, thin, dark man in a black business suit stood and began addressing the congregation:“If you have known Love, you have known God,” said the deacon.“If you have known Love, you have known God,” we all repeated.The deacon strolled slowly around the inner square, smiling at each, acknowledging each, as he spoke:“This is a great occasion for us today. Last month we lost three of our members who moved to Los Angeles. We have done well, but there is only so much we can do if we lack the Holy Numbers. Now we have seven families represented by fourteen people. Our prayers will be mighty tonight, praise God.”“Praise God,” the congregation echoed.“I am called The Deacon. No one here uses their everyday name. This is a special meeting of true believers in God’s grace. We believe, as did the first century Christians, that nothing is wrong as long as it hurts no one and is done in true love. Our freedom, eroded by centuries of dogma, is the liberty of the Law of Love.“We all go to regular Fundamentalist churches because Fundamentalism is about all there is in Oklahoma. But this is our true place of worship. Here we thank God for the gift of our bodies. Here we live as we were created to live in shameless Eden.”At that, everyone stood. I’d only been to church once or twice in my life, but I remembered they were big about everybody doing everything together, standing together, sitting together, singing together. I stood. Then everyone started taking their clothes off. It was quiet, unhurried, almost reverent. Not until I saw Mom and Grandma, to my right and my left, disrobing did I come out of my amazement enough to do likewise.When everyone was naked, the Deacon took a seat on the couch. Then the women, all the women, stood and paraded in the center square. At first they said nothing, just walked around, every shape and size of women, every age from the twelve-year-old blonde to my sixtyish grandmother. I couldn’t take my eyes off my beautiful, big-boobed, brunette-bushed Mom. Since I had been wrongly accused of fucking her, fucking her was all I could think about. The mind is funny that way.Then, at a nod from the Deacon, the women stood together in a cluster, raised their prayerful hands to their lips, bowed their heads, and began chanting a Bible verse over and over–“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away…”Besides the Deacon, there were two other males in the room, a fat man with a grey beard and a skinny redheaded guy a few years older than me. They were all masturbating their cocks to get them hard. I didn’t have to.The women stopped chanting their Bible verses. Then Mom walked over to me, her big breasts swinging, still firm. She held her bad arm under her breasts. She got on her knees in front of me and said, “Be careful of my arm, darling.” Then she bowed her head again and took the head of my dick in her mouth.I was ecstatic. Nothing had ever felt as good. Looking down incredulously, I saw her beautiful hazel eyes smiling at me merrily as she sucked my big, thick dick into her pretty mouth. I began to rock my hips up and down, fucking her mouth. Her good hand crept up my thigh and squeezed my balls.“Oh, fuck this,” I said. I got up and set her where I’d been sitting. She was more beautiful to me, sitting there with her legs pulled back, smiling at her son about to fuck her, than anything I’d seen before or have seen since. I grabbed my throbbing dick in my right hand. I was going to fuck my mother! I was going to be a motherfucker just like I’d been accused of being. I was about as far from being ashamed of it as I could be. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.I could feel the individual hairs of my mother’s hot cunt touching the head of my dick as I guided it between her fat, olive-pink pussylips. When I stuck the head in her hole, Mom cooed, “Oh, yes! Stick that big, beautiful dick in Momma’s hot, hairy pussy. Oh, Micheal! Stick it in and fuck me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”I shoved my dick up in my mother as far as I could. Her heat and sweet creaminess was all the more delightful because it was forbidden. I was fucking my dear sweet mother, had my dick in her pussy, and I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. Pumping my dick back and forth, in and out of Mom’s soft, wet twat, I heard the sucking sound that’s a soundtrack to sex. The sound itself turned me on even more. I looked down and watched Mom’s cuntlips cling to my dick. Her breathing was becoming quicker and uneven. I reached down and began sucking her rose-brown nipple while my hips continued driving my truck up her tunnel.I was sucking and fucking Mom enthusiastically, when I felt her start to spasm. She began moaning my name faster and faster, throwing her pussy up to meet my jabbing cock. Then she almost screamed, “Oh, God is Love! Micheal, fuck Mommy’s pussy. Oh, fuck Mommy’s wet hairy hole! I’m cumming! I’m CUMMMING!!”Pulling my mouth roughly off her tit, I straightened up and began kissing Mom’s mouth like we were horny kids in the backseat of a car. I pounded my cock in her cunt and French kissed her through her orgasm. When she was spent, I kept fucking her slowly. Her eyes looked into mine and widened. I smiled at her, kissed her lips briefly, and then, punctuating every word with a thrust of my dick into her honeypot, I said, “Mom, I hope you like what you started, because you’re mine now. I’m going to fuck you like you were my girlfriend from now on. Say it. Say this pussy is mine.”She put her hands on my biceps and wiggled her pussy from side to side as I slammed into it. “Oh, yes, darling. Mom’s yours now. Your Daddy’s gone, and you’re going to fill more than his shoes.” She laughed and then pulled herself up to my sweating body and began slapping her sopping cunt up to meet the rhythm of my dick. “Anytime you want to borrow a little of your Momma’s hot pussy, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart. All you have to do is ask.”Still fucking, but feeling my own orgasm rising, I laughed and said, “Why do I have to ask?”When I asked the question, Mom had been sucking on my right nipple. She pulled her face back and began running her fingers through my sweaty chest hair as my strokes in her steaming twat got faster and faster. “Because that’s the Law of Love,” she said. Just as I started shooting a huge load of cum up her gleefully incestuous cunt, Mom began chanting:“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.”THE END

Warning: This story is for the entertainment of adults. It contains detailed descriptions of Female Domination, Fisting, Watersports, Anal penetration…

Patricia had studied extra hard this year and she was determined to get away from it all by herself, so…

Bad Mother [Age][Gay Conversion][FDom][MSub][Collab audio sex stories

Then I saw him, there he stood. His head was down, his hair a dark curtain covering his eyes. My gaze lingered on him for an instant, his head tilted to the side a little bit, so that one eye peaked out of his dark hair. He looked directly into my eyes. My drink stopped at my parted lips, I felt foolish, blushing, I swallowed hard and set the drink down on the table in front of me. Gathering my courage up, my eyes drifted down the rest of his body. He wore a black net long sleeve shirt, his upper body was totally visible through the netting. I could see the chiseled look of his chest, the dark circles and glint of silver where his nipples stood out against the material. His legs were encased in what looked like broken in black leather, tightly buckled at the waist with a silver buckle. Black biker boots with small silver buckles on the sides rounded out the package. Both of his hands were stuffed into the front pockets of his pants, his shoulders were down and rounded, sorta like a little kid who knows he’s done something wrong and is just waiting for the punishment. When my eyes had made it back up to his face, he had moved his head a little more to the side and back so that I could see his entire face. He was looking right back at me. I hope he likes what he is seeing, I thought to my self as I straightened out my shoulders and sat up a little straighter. A small smile curved the corners of his mouth, and I blushed again. I don’t usually go to clubs alone, but my date had canceled and I had just sorta wondered in. The guy had taken his hands out of his pockets and placed them against the wall behind him, fingers spread out near his hips, palms against the brick. He looked like he was about to push off the wall, but he stayed there, looking at me with that half smile on his lips. When my heart stopped beating so fast and my breath came easily again, I realized that he was waiting for an invitation. Fear bloomed in my stomach, what the hell was I doing, did I really want this to happen?? I looked down at my hand on the glass and realization dawned warm and comforting in my groin. I looked back up at him, he had raised his eyebrows a little, sort of a question mark in his eyes. I nodded at him and the question left his eyes and a smile took its place. He pushed off the wall, winked at me and turned around and strode out the door of the club. So I was supposed to follow him, did I dare? Fear doubt and an incredible electric feeling hit my stomach again, I stood up and downed the rest of the drink in one gulp. I walked quickly to the door, pushing out into the warm air. The noise level went down considerably. There he was, just turning the corner to where my car was parked. I followed. The parking lot was not lit very well, lights at either end of the building where you either spiraled up or down to the next level, but no lights in between. He was leaning against my car, waiting for me. I got a better look at him up close, it was still dark but I my eyes were getting adjusted. He had small silver nipple rings and no hair on his chest. His smile revealed perfectly white teeth. His hair was black, shining and just past his shoulders. He had one hand in his front pocket and the other was leaning against the top of my car, bent at the elbow his hand cradling his head. I did not know what to say. I pulled keys out of my jeans and walked around to the passenger side of the car, the side he was on. His hip was pressed against the door handle. I held the key out in front of his groin and made a stab at the lock. I missed, the key clattered against the paint on the door. I could feel his eyes on me, I looked up nervously at his face, the keys jangling slightly in my hand. He really did have perfect teeth, they were all showing in the smile he was wearing. The hand that was in his pocket came out and lightly touched my hand that was holding the keys. I felt a bolt of electricity shoot up my arm and go directly to my lower stomach. I dropped the keys. They lay right on his silver buckled boot. I smiled nervously and bent my knees, going straight down the front of his body to retrieve the keys. His boot moved slightly so that the keys fell between his boots. I swallowed on a dry throat and got my hand around the key ring. My face was directly in front of his crotch, the leather smelled warm and rich. As I was standing up, I let my hand stay between his legs, softly raking the key up the inside of his leg. When I got to groin, I scraped up the front of his thigh and looked into his face again. I felt more power, more control.sex imageHis eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open, his hips had pushed forward a little. But I could still hit the key hole. The key slide into the lock, I turned it and brushed the front of his pants with my knuckles. Again I felt the bolt go up my arm and straight to my cock. He leaned closer and whispered something in my ear. Was it Latin? I didn’t understand it. He simply smiled and opened the car door. He folded himself into my little sports car. I ran around to the drivers side. He had reached across and unlocked my door. I got in and noticed how big he looked in my car, he looked uncomfortable. I reached between his legs and found the control that moved the seat back, my elbow was brushing against his cock as I struggled to move the knob from my position. It finally let go and swept him back about 15 inches. He stretched his legs out and sighed. I put the key in the ignition and paused to think of what I was doing. What was I doing? Where was this going? I looked again at his body, he was beautiful. I turned the ignition and put the car in reverse. I went to the spiral that went down and we were soon on the street, heading to my house. It was incredibly hot in my car, he touched a button on the door and the window came down on his side. His hair flowed freely around his face and shoulders. I could smell him on the breeze, in the car. He smelled very masculine, with just a little polo. I wanted to touch him, taste him, get in really close and smell him. I struggled with all these emotions, and more. Did this mean I was gay? Had I been gay all along. Sex with My girlfriend had been satisfying, I came didn’t I? But I don’t think I had ever been this aroused at just the thought of touching someone. I wanted desperately to reach out to him, caress him. He hummed slightly, his eyes closed, his head turning slightly to catch the breeze. It was a short drive, I live just outside the city. I rolled to a stop in my garage and pushed the button on my visor to close the door. I sat there waiting for something, anything. I was losing a battle with my self. He touched my leg, his hand was incredibly hot. I felt burned. A decision was made. I turned to him, there in the car, and looked into his eyes. They were a dark liquid brown. He looked at me expectantly, searching my face for some kind of clue. His hand still burned on my leg, he gave a small squeeze. I took his hand from my leg and brought it up to my mouth, brushing my lips across his knuckles. That’s when the dam burst inside me, I knew what I wanted and I knew how to get it. I got out of the car and headed for the door to the house. I heard his door shut and knew he was following me. I opened the door to the landing inside the house. From the landing you could go three ways, down to the basement, up to the second floor, or straight ahead to the kitchen. I chose the basement, I had a pool table, wet bar and a very comfortable leather couch down there. Not to mention the big screen and stereo. I could hear him padding down the stairs behind me. I turned on the light over the pool table and went to the bar and poured a white Zin, and offered it to him. He was looking at my stereo set up. He found the power and Nine Inch Nails started pumping out of it. He turned it down a little and turned to me with that big smile. He took the Zin and offered it to my lips, I did not catch it all in my mouth, some escaped. He came in close, his body pressed to mine and licked the wine off of my chin and the corner of my mouth, I think that was the no turning back point. One of my hands found his ass and the other tangled in his hair. He set the glass down on the pool table and wrapped his arms around me. Both of his hands scratching down the small of my back and into my jeans. My mouth found his, it was hot and alive with electricity. I could feel small explosions rocking my head, my cock, my hips, my stomach, my mouth. He was licking my teeth, biting and sucking at my lips, reaching further into my mouth with his tongue. I felt him break the kiss, I sucked in air and went searching for his hot mouth again. He had moved to my jaw, he was kissing along the curve and following it up to my ear, leaving a wet trail where ever his mouth touched. I groaned and dragged his mouth to my throat, right below my ear, I could hear his ragged breathing and feel his hot breath on my throat. I took his earlobe in my mouth and sucked for all I was worth. I gently tugged on it with my teeth and then moved to shove my tongue into his ear. That got a groan out of him. I could feel him sucking hard on my neck, how was I going to explain a hickey to My girlfriend? He came up for air and found my mouth again, I was ready, I let my tongue trace his wet lips, then I pushed in side his mouth to lick his teeth and probe into the nooks and crannies of his luscious mouth. He moaned and roughly rubbed his leather crotch to my denim one. He pulled his hands off my ass and out of my pants. He was moving his hands up my chest to the buttons on my shirt. He struggled with the first one briefly before just pulling it apart, he did the same all the way down to my stomach. Buttons were flying everywhere. I pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the couch. I wanted a closer look at his nipples. They were perfectly round, puffy and an erotic shade of red. The silver rings made his nubs stand on end. I wanted to take it in my mouth, but I didn’t want to hurt him. He roughly pushed my lips to his nipple. I gently took the whole thing into my mouth, ring and all. I could not close my teeth around his nipple so I tugged on the ring with my teeth. He hissed and ground his leather crotch against me. I lavished the same attention on his other nipple. One of my hands was caressing the small of his back, I love that area. The other was wrapping itself in his silky hair. I pulled his head back roughly and locked my mouth on his neck, let him explain that hickey to his girlfriend. When I could taste blood in my mouth, I let his neck go. The clash of the bright red hickey on his white throat was so sexy. His hands were moving over my chest pinching my nipples and tugging the hair that was all over my pecs. I wanted to move down his body, I started at his collar bone and kissed and sucked my way down his chest. I made a wet trail to his right nipple, my hand closed on his left one, pinching and pulling at the ring. My mouth slid down his rib cage. I found a whispy pleasure trail. I tongued every hair on his belly before moving to his belt buckle. I tried to undo his belt with my teeth, but it would not budge, so he undid it himself. I loved the feel of the warm metal in my mouth as I pulled the belt free from its loops. I threw the belt toward the couch and moved toward the buttons on his leather pants. I pulled and they undid themselves. He was standing above me, his hands on either side of his body holding himself up with the pool table. I could smell his crotch, the heat was incredible. It felt like I was reaching in to molten lava, as I reached into his pants. I felt a thick patch of hair and further down a very hard cock. He wore no underwear. With one hand still inside, I pulled his pants off with the other, all the way down to his black square toed boots. His cock lay twitching in my palm, purple and glistening in the heat. I kissed the tip, I ran my tongue along the underside. I licked at his balls and then came up to tug on his bush with my teeth before pushing him onto the pool table. I pulled his boots off, then his pants, then socks. He lay there naked and beautiful. I took the glass of Zin and poured some on his cock, it ran over his hips and down his balls and dripped onto the pool table. I started to lick it up. It had pooled on his thigh, the wine tasted funky mixed with his salty flesh taste. I left him there on the table while I undid my belt and jeans. I shucked them off in one fluid movement. I was wearing boxers. my cock stuck out of the slit at an angle. those too came off and went to the pile of clothes near the couch. I went back to him. his hips were on the pool table, his legs dangling over the edge. I pushed his knees up till his feet were planted on the bumper of the table leaving his ass and balls swaying gently over the edge. I got more wine and poured it on his balls this time. I watched it flow down the crack of his ass and drip down the edge of the pool table. I knelt on the floor so that my face was level with his ball sac. I pushed his thighs further apart and leaned into his balls. I tried to suck them both into my mouth at the same time. I couldn’t, so I settled for one then the other. He was writhing on the edge of the pool table, moaning and groaning just the way I like it. I ran my tongue down the path that the wine had taken and I heard a loud moan. I pushed my face into his ass and wedged my tongue into his hole. The sounds he was making went up an octave as he ground his ass onto my tongue.taboo xxx storiesHe had taken his cock in hand and was stroking it slowly from balls to tip. I searched around for a while trying to find his prostate with my tongue. No luck, but by this time he was growling to me or to himself, I couldn’t tell. After slobbering all over his hole I stood up and took my cock in hand, running it up and down his crack. His eyes were smoldering into mine, begging me to ram my cock up his ass. I placed the head of my tool up to his puckered little ring, and pushed very gently. His little ass welcomed me in and settled around my cock. I was gripping his upper legs and pulling him toward me, sinking deeper into his tight little hole. His teeth were set and his eyes were closed, he was still pulling on his cock, long slow strokes. I had bottomed out, my balls were against the pool table. I slowly pulled all eight inches out, I aimed the tip of my cock and plunged in ball deep. He yelped and started to stroke himself faster. I leaned over and bit his leg, I smacked his ass, I wanted him to cry out again. I pulled all the way out again, and lingered at the opening, I took his balls in my hand and rolled them around. I gave them a good tug as I shoved my cock in to the hilt. He cried out, I am pretty sure it was Latin, what ever, as long as he made noise. I wrapped his legs around me and picked him up, my cock still buried to the hilt inside him. I held him close to me, I pulled on his nipple rings, sucked one in my mouth, then the other. I carried him to the big leather couch, my hips pumping into him the whole time. His cheek lay against my forehead, his mouth close to my ear. He was whispering something to me, I could not understand. His cock was rubbing against my abs. I laid him down on the couch and kissed his forehead, his brow, eyelids, the tip of his nose until I found his hot little mouth. I sucked fiercely on his bottom lip, pulling and biting into it. I licked his teeth forcing my tongue deeper into his mouth, feeling his cock squirm against my abs. I pulled almost all the way out and plunged in again finding a slow rhythm. working my way in and out while my tongue tried to rape his mouth. I wanted him to be noisy, I wanted to hear his grunts and groans. I pulled off his mouth and bit his shoulder. He cried out and humped against my abs, both his hands were wrapped around my ass, pulling me deeper into him. I leaned down to his ear and whispered “Fuck my cock baby,” then shoved my tongue into his ear. He shouted something and his ass got very tight and so hot. I could feel that he was coming on my stomach. He pinched my ass and scratched my chest, his ass gripping my cock so tightly that I started to come, bucking roughly into him again and again until collapsing on top of him. We lay that way for a long time, snuggled together, me on top and still inside him. My head resting on his shoulder. I could feel his cock moving against my abdomen, getting smaller and tucking itself back into its foreskin. I let my spent cock slide out of him and felt my cum seeping out. I moved to his side and held him to me, my front to his back, one arm under my head as a pillow, the other wrapped around his abdomen. I could hear his light breathing, I think he was asleep. I drifted off to sleep, feeling more relaxed, happier than I had ever been in my entire life.

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