ravensfx
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Dec 31, 2004
- Posts
- 160
Chapter One
Catherine's son, Matthew, is home for the summer vacation from UCLA. He really loathes Seattle since it has little that California has: the exotic nightlife, nude beaches, and lots of college girls that just want sex. Yet, it did have a lot of married women for private sex parties that paid extremely well. Most of the women were in their late thirties or early forties. It didn’t matter to him. It was sex. At school, he couldn’t fulfill the older women’s fantasies except on stage. He found an agency made sure the women were disease free, paid up front, and no husbands. It paid the bills and it was fun. A lot were married though met him at hotels.
He loved the intimacy of just one more than a group so he was becoming more of a sex toy for wealthy women than a stripper. He was in demand due to his good looks. He was just over six foot tall and athletic. His deep blue eyes, bronze tan, and wavy blonde hair were a fixture of anyone that wanted to be a top male stripper or a convenient lover in Los Angeles. Anywhere for that matter. Of course, he did have eight inches of manhood that was also about two inches thick. He was smaller than some but it worked better for him with women. He didn’t have to be as careful as most. Size was expected on stage though not in the bedroom. Endurance and sensuality was his other quality; he could last for an hour or so if the woman wanted him to and had no problem saying or doing anything that made them comfortable.
His mother was sexually liberated and didn’t mind near nakedness around the house since the divorce when he was just a kid. She walked around the house in lacy camisoles or silky gowns in the morning. He just sat around the house in boxer shorts. He always noticed her. Her hourglass figure left little to the imagination. Sumptuous breasts, long legs, and shapely rearend. He loved how her shoulder-length reddish hair framed her heart-shaped face. Luscious lips, green eyes, and her expertly applied makeup. For only thirty-eight, she was quite noticeable by everyone including his friends.
Matt woke up on a sunny Saturday morning at about six o’clock. Shafts of light came through the blinds illuminating his room. He had got in late. Not late enough to keep his schedule. His mom was already asleep so he just went to bed. The sun was nice on his skin as he stretched before the window. He slipped on some boxers and walked groggily to the kitchen. There were cotton. Not bad. Mom must have bought some clothes for him for college.
His mom was already there waiting on coffee. She was just standing there in satin red gown with a black lacy bodice. He studied her for a moment from the shadow of the doorway then walked in. She had her hands on the counter looking down so she didn’t notice he had come in. He snuggled up behind her with his arms around her waist, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she said, touching his arms. “Sorry I wasn’t up last night. Hard day at work. Just wanted to get some sleep. Sleep good?”
His body molded into hers. She smelled nice. Probably her strawberry shampoo. She had to feel his hardness against her. He let go not wanted her to think anything. Maybe not wanting him to think anything. She was liberated but not that liberated. She did feel it hoping he would move away. Last night didn’t give her any opportunity to play with herself. He was her son. Yet, he felt good against her aching body. The workout was tough yesterday. Her body was just a little tired. Too much yesterday. Keep up her shapely figure it did so she took hot baths to soothe out the pain.
“Yeah, I slept fine,” he said, massaging her shoulders. “You seem pretty tense. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get this.”
“I’d rather have the massage.”
His kissed her shoulder and she sat down.
....still writing it in my spare time so excuse any errors....but, feedback on the emotional aspect is welcome....the massage does not lead to sex....
Catherine's son, Matthew, is home for the summer vacation from UCLA. He really loathes Seattle since it has little that California has: the exotic nightlife, nude beaches, and lots of college girls that just want sex. Yet, it did have a lot of married women for private sex parties that paid extremely well. Most of the women were in their late thirties or early forties. It didn’t matter to him. It was sex. At school, he couldn’t fulfill the older women’s fantasies except on stage. He found an agency made sure the women were disease free, paid up front, and no husbands. It paid the bills and it was fun. A lot were married though met him at hotels.
He loved the intimacy of just one more than a group so he was becoming more of a sex toy for wealthy women than a stripper. He was in demand due to his good looks. He was just over six foot tall and athletic. His deep blue eyes, bronze tan, and wavy blonde hair were a fixture of anyone that wanted to be a top male stripper or a convenient lover in Los Angeles. Anywhere for that matter. Of course, he did have eight inches of manhood that was also about two inches thick. He was smaller than some but it worked better for him with women. He didn’t have to be as careful as most. Size was expected on stage though not in the bedroom. Endurance and sensuality was his other quality; he could last for an hour or so if the woman wanted him to and had no problem saying or doing anything that made them comfortable.
His mother was sexually liberated and didn’t mind near nakedness around the house since the divorce when he was just a kid. She walked around the house in lacy camisoles or silky gowns in the morning. He just sat around the house in boxer shorts. He always noticed her. Her hourglass figure left little to the imagination. Sumptuous breasts, long legs, and shapely rearend. He loved how her shoulder-length reddish hair framed her heart-shaped face. Luscious lips, green eyes, and her expertly applied makeup. For only thirty-eight, she was quite noticeable by everyone including his friends.
Matt woke up on a sunny Saturday morning at about six o’clock. Shafts of light came through the blinds illuminating his room. He had got in late. Not late enough to keep his schedule. His mom was already asleep so he just went to bed. The sun was nice on his skin as he stretched before the window. He slipped on some boxers and walked groggily to the kitchen. There were cotton. Not bad. Mom must have bought some clothes for him for college.
His mom was already there waiting on coffee. She was just standing there in satin red gown with a black lacy bodice. He studied her for a moment from the shadow of the doorway then walked in. She had her hands on the counter looking down so she didn’t notice he had come in. He snuggled up behind her with his arms around her waist, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she said, touching his arms. “Sorry I wasn’t up last night. Hard day at work. Just wanted to get some sleep. Sleep good?”
His body molded into hers. She smelled nice. Probably her strawberry shampoo. She had to feel his hardness against her. He let go not wanted her to think anything. Maybe not wanting him to think anything. She was liberated but not that liberated. She did feel it hoping he would move away. Last night didn’t give her any opportunity to play with herself. He was her son. Yet, he felt good against her aching body. The workout was tough yesterday. Her body was just a little tired. Too much yesterday. Keep up her shapely figure it did so she took hot baths to soothe out the pain.
“Yeah, I slept fine,” he said, massaging her shoulders. “You seem pretty tense. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get this.”
“I’d rather have the massage.”
His kissed her shoulder and she sat down.
....still writing it in my spare time so excuse any errors....but, feedback on the emotional aspect is welcome....the massage does not lead to sex....
