Memoir Archives

As we all know, masturbation is a great way to relieve stress. And it feels really good. I got to thinking about all the various places I’ve masturbated and thought it was worth reviewing. Maybe bring back some good memories to my readers.

Unfortunately I really can’t remember my very early days of masturbation. At least not the specifics. My guess is that it mostly took place in bed or on the toilet. The toilet would have been preferable due to no mess to clean up and the ability to lock the door. Locking my bedroom door would have raised questions I wouldn’t want to answer.

But jerking off on the toilet had a downside. I had to push my hard cock down at an unnatural angle to shoot my cum into the bowl. And to me, that detracted somewhat from the orgasm. Cumming always feels much better to me when my cock is pointing up. More on that later.

Jacking off in bed was more satisfying although it required clean-up and if I wasn’t careful, the clean-up could involve more than just wiping semen off of my stomach and chest.

Growing up as a pre-teen we lived on a 70-acre tract and as the only boy in the family and no other kids living close by, I spent a lot of time roaming the woods behind my house by myself. Many of those hikes included taking my cock out and jacking off in the woods and watching my cum spurt onto the ground or nearby bushes.

Like all teens in high school, my dick was hard almost all the time in class. I had a couple of pairs of pants that had a hole in the right pocket. I would manage to get my cockhead through that hole and sit in class with my hand in my pocket and massage the head of my prick. One time I went too far and ended up with a load of cum in my pocket. Fortunately it didn’t bleed through the cloth and I managed to do a half-assed clean-up in the boy’s room.

Lots of masturbation occurred when I was fully dressed. If I found myself alone but worried that I might get caught, I would just unzip my pants, take my dick out, and start pounding away. Depending upon where this was taking place, I had to be conscious of where the cum would go. Sometimes into a wad of Kleenex or toilet paper and sometimes just wherever I could shoot it. The biggest concern was getting it on my clothes where my mother might see it when she washed my clothes. That did happen often enough that I’m sure she did see it but she never said anything.

By the time I was 15, while still jacking off every chance I could find, I had also discovered girls. But my sole interest back then was fucking them. Like an idiot, if I was rebuffed, I never even considered the fallback position of a handjob. Dumbass me. So most of my jackoffs were by my own hand and not that of a partner.

As I got older and had more partners, masturbation by a female partner became a part of my regular sexual activity. Lots of variations on the theme occurred. My second wife and I enjoyed the use of an outdoor hot tub. I would put my dick in front of one of the jets and she would do the same with her clit. When I reached the point of no return, I would stand up and she would jump up and jack me off onto the grass around the hot tub. I did not want to ejaculate into the water for obvious reasons. She would let the water jet finish her off.

Another thing she came up with out of the blue, was she managed to get her tongue in my asshole while jacking me off. This was the first time I begin to suspect that she was learning these tricks from another partner. This was before the internet so she didn’t pick it up there. If I had asked her, she likely would have told me that one of her girlfriends told her about it. Possibly that was true.

Another new trick she sprung on me was lubing up my dick with Vaseline. Despite me being in my 30’s, it had never occurred to me to do that. I figured she might have learned that from whoever was fucking her besides me.

While married to my second wife, we lived on a one acre lot that was heavily landscaped. Tons of yardwork was required which I really enjoyed doing. My favorite dress for yardwork was a t-shirt and some cutoff jeans. With no underwear. The jeans were cut quite short and while working in the yard, my cock would manage to work its way down one leg with the head exposed. That would lead to me rubbing the head and getting a full hard-on. Once I was hard, jerking off was the logical next step. I remember the many times I would get my dick out right in my yard and jack off onto the grass. The heavy landscaping kept me from being seen by any neighbors or passers-by. This literally occurred every time I worked in the yard. There was something taboo about it that made it super sexy.

One girl I dated for a while liked to play with my dick while we were driving in the car. The problem with it was a couple of times she went too far and I couldn’t hold back cumming. At the time you don’t give a shit about where the cum is going to go but afterwards, when there’s jism splattered all over your clothes, it becomes a real problem. She always thought it was hilariously funny for me to be covered in cum.

For a couple of years between marriages I had a fuckbuddy who was great fun. Nothing was taboo and she loved to jack me off. She was a hairdresser and would come to my house to cut my hair. When I knew she was coming I would edge for several hours ahead of time so I was primed by the time she got there. I would strip and sit in a chair in my kitchen and she would cut my hair. When she finished I would jack off while she watched. The goal was to see how far I could shoot. She actually got down with a tape measure and measured off a couple of inches short of five feet. On a second similar try I thought I had exceeded that number but another measurement was basically the same. After I came, we would jump in the shower together and by the time we got out, I was primed for more sex which would entail blowjobs and fucking.

One other time we both sitting naked on my balcony. She jacked me off and I shot over the balcony railings. I was on the third floor. I looked down and the first floor condo had a patio and there on the patio was a table with several blobs of semen splattered on it. Luckily nothing ever came of it.

The two of us were in San Jose Del Cabo at the tip of Baja. We had a late dinner and then walked the totally deserted main street of the town. I had to pee really bad and she encouraged me to do it in a doorway. I said I would if she would hold my cock for me. She did and when I finished peeing she started jerking me off and kept it up until I shot a load onto the sidewalk. This was right in the middle of town but it was midnight and we were pretty much on our own.

Then my third wife loved to play with my dick. But she had a thing about not wasting my cum. I had to finish off either down her throat or in her pussy. That was a bit of a setback for me because I’ve always got off on seeing the semen spurt out of my dick. That’s a sight I dearly love. Plenty of women get off on a good cumshot, but not my wife.

So she would give me a great handjob but once I got close, I had to finish off down her throat. Don’t get me wrong. Those were some fabulous orgasms as she sucked the cum out of my dick.

Later in life between marriage number two and three, I got involved with some M2M sessions. Some mutual jackoffs with another guy. Then I promoted several circle jerks with anywhere from four to six guys total. Lots of great jacking off and cum spurting. Even had my then girlfriend join one of the circle jerks and she jerked off all four of us to spurting orgasms. Great fun. One of the circle jerk guys brought his cute girlfriend to a threesome with me. No fucking but she jerked us both off. I loved it when she took some tissues and wiped my dick and chest clean of cum. Very, very hot. I’ve never really understood my reasoning, but getting all the cum cleaned up by my partner is very erotic to me. Holding my dick and wiping the still engorged dripping head clean of cum is the best. Love it.

In recent years with the advent of the internet and endless porn available, most of my jacking takes place in front of the computer in my home office. My office chair sits on one of those large plastic mats and I can just spurt my load right onto the mat for easy cleanup. Again, cock angle has a lot to do with the degree of pleasure achieved through orgasm. If I remain sitting, I have to push my dick down in order to easily shoot onto the plastic mat. So I usually stand up and just bend over. But the process of going from sitting to standing while whacking away, somehow lessens the intensity of the orgasm. The solution is to remain sitting and just not aim my dick at the floor. Unfortunately, the result of that is cum shooting all over my chest and lap. Sometimes I’m in the nude so it would be reasonably OK to do that but most of the time I’m clothed with just my pants pulled down and the result would be sticky semen all over everything.

It’s been years since I’ve jacked off in bed. Occasionally, I will be sitting out on my back patio and get the urge to cum. So I go ahead and jack off and then shoot onto the adjacent plot of grass. I’ve been single for quite some time now, so I can jack off very frequently with no concern of being interrupted. Although I do think one of the gardening crew might have caught a glimpse of me jacking my dick one time. Years ago, in a different house in a different town, the gardening crew was a man and his wife. She clearly saw me jacking off one time and even after I was aware that she saw me, she continued to watch until I shot my load. I was too close to even think about stopping. Then she turned away and went back to work.

Even at a fairly advanced age, I usually jack off twice a day. Sometimes more

Happy jacking, fellow masturbators.

#####

Feeling Like a Kid Among Adults

I went to Body Electric in Berkeley, California to try out their Thursday night tantric male massage sessions. I had a great time. There were about 40 men there. We all got naked, then broke into random groups of three. Each group surrounded a massage table. We each got a 20-minute massage from the other two guys. The massages started with a perfunctory general massage, but soon turned into genital massage. But this was a ‘tantric’ thing. I didn’t really understand the philosophy. The general idea seemed to be that one can, probably even should, become erect, but not ejaculate. For me, it was difficult to avoid orgasming, but I managed to hold off for the full twenty minutes when it was my turn. I really enjoyed massaging the other two guys as well. I went home horny and charged up. It was an interesting experience. I felt clearer than usual, as if colors were brighter, quiet sounds more noticeable, and smells more interesting.

Of course as soon as I got home, I wanked and ejaculated big-time, but even still, I felt slightly better than average the whole next day.

I returned a week later and participated in another three-way massage. Before starting, I asked the instructor whether it would be OK to forego the general massage portion, and have the guys go right into the genital massage when it was my turn. He said that was fine. I then asked if it was OK to ejaculate. I expected some lecture about how that’s not within the paradigm of what they’re doing there. Instead, he said that’s just fine also. I also asked to go last, because I knew what might happen. If I was first or second, and then I ejaculated, I would loose interested in massaging the other guys.

So, I went last. When it was my turn, I came after about ten minutes, and immediately felt foolish. Worse, I still had ten minutes to go. The guys tried to keep me hard and interested, but frankly, the last ten minutes, while not quite torture, were less than ideal as I went soft, and was quite bothered by the ongoing touch.

Bottom line: I felt like a stupid kid among adults after doing that. I’m slowly learning in life that most people have reasons for what they do. Being a rebel, trying to do things differently, is not always the best way to do things.

Waxing Spa

Three years ago, I saw a thing on YouTube. It made me jill myself silly right away, having an especially long orgasm, or maybe a series of orgasms – I can’t quite tell. I usually have just one, then I’m done, so this video truly affected me. A man was having his genitals waxed – you know, hair removal. As it was happening his penis became erect. Now, I’ve seen pornography on the Internet before. You can’t escape it. But seeing that got me to thinking. I was imagining me being the practitioner. How much more fun would that be than being an accountant for a grocery chain?

Every day at work, when I could let my mind wander, I had thought about becoming a massage practitioner. But that took long and specific training, and it would be hard work. Imagine spending an hour kneading the muscles of clients. Your wrists and everything would get really sore, right?

The minute I saw that waxing video, I knew that was for me. That’s what I had to do. It took another year to line it up. I got my training and got a ‘chair’ in a spa. I was able to quit my accounting job, and work full time at the spa, even though the money was half as much. I had just finished paying off my student loan after all those years, and what did I have to show for it? I had learned to be an accountant, a job I never liked. Well, now, things were different.

So, why was I crying myself to sleep? The spa job wasn’t quite right. Ninety percent of my clients were women. I was waxing vagina after vagina. And worse, sometimes it was armpits, legs and backs. Oh, yes, some women have hairy backs. Now, don’t get me wrong, it can be somewhat exciting to work with another woman’s vagina and anus. I did sometimes get horny after waxing those women, and I’d masturbate myself something silly at home in the evenings remembering my clients of the day. But I wanted men. Men, damn it! In a year at the spa, I had never waxed a single dick. Never even seen one. Oh, there were a few guys who had me remove their chest hair. One guy, a bicycle racer, came in to get his legs waxed.

It all changed on a Thursday afternoon. An elderly, heavyset fellow had set an appointment for genital waxing. I was sure one of the other practitioners would get him, and was all set to be mildly jealous as I would be waxing yet another vagina. However, the strangest thing happened. None of the girls wanted to do it. They were quietly carrying on near the desk. I thought were repulsed by his age or weight or something. But no, they were squeamish about touching a dick. Imagine that! These poor women were so conservative, brought up so up-tightly, that they couldn’t enjoy what would be a most enjoyable job.

Of course I stepped right up, and said, “I’ll be glad to take him.” I didn’t mind a bit. The girls knew I was kind of a rebel type. They probably even expected that from me.

I waxed the guy. He did become erect, just like in the YouTube video, and although I made sure not to show it, I had a wonderful time. Well, except for one thing: In all my training and experience as a waxer, I had never actually done a scrotum. I found it difficult to hold the skin taught as I tore off the wax, so as to not hurt the poor fellow. He winced and even suppressed a scream or two, as I learned my craft right there and then. He did stay erect the whole time, so I must not have been hurting him too badly. At one point, I hadn’t realized I was kind of leaning the palm of my hand right on one of his testicles. He squirmed and told me what was happening. I was embarrassed.

Even though he was a big old guy, I went home with a big smile, and jilled to several crashing orgasms that evening.

A week later, a friend of the old gent’s came in, wanting the same thing. The girls in a semi-circle at the desk all turned to me. I just said, “Of course.”

This guy was a quite-fit, fifty-something guy. I would have fucked him given half an opportunity. Being divorced and without kids, I can think such things. It’s OK to just think them, right? Anyway, I waxed him, but no erection. I was disappointed. Again, I’m a professional, so I made a point to hide my disappointment.

A few days later, another guy came in. He was thin and really old, like maybe eighty. I had no problem with that. Before I even started waxing him, he was erect. He apologized.

I said, “Most of the guys get erect,” as if I had any experience in such things.

I went to work on him, now expertly handling his scrotum. Both of us had a good time. He stayed erect the whole time.

To cut a long story short, these guys were on a bowling team or something, and they knew people, who knew people, and pretty soon, I had a full practice. I was touching up to six cocks a day. And that brings us up to date.

Every day, I arrive at the spa at 9am for my first appointment, and have four to six cocks a day. That’s what I jokingly call my appointments, “cocks.” I don’t even do women, or legs, or chests. Just cocks. I let the other girls take all the other appointments, and they’re fine with the arrangement. Well, sometimes, I’ll take a vagina. That can be fun at times.

With the guys, and the occasional girl, I start out with their assholes. I have them get on their knees, and wax their butts. I would say that when that’s done, and I have the guys turn around and lay on their backs on the table, sixty percent of them are erect. Of course the women don’t get erect, but maybe eighty percent of them are moist. I actually have to grab a tissue and wipe them dry down there so as to not interfere with the waxing.

Oh, yes, more than one woman has orgasmed under my ministrations. They try to hide it. I want to tell some of them, “It’s totally OK, let it happen. Enjoy it.” But that’s not professional, so I just let them pretend they’re not orgasming. But I can see the contractions in their perianal area. It’s obvious.

Forty percent of the guys don’t get hard. That’s OK. Well, maybe mildly disappointing. Sometimes when I’m feeling particularly frisky, I try to do things to get them erect. I hope they don’t realize what I’m doing. Like, I’ll grab a tissue, and ever so lightly let a corner of it drag over their frenulum. Or, I have a big fluffy brush that’s used for distributing the powder. I’ll just run that over their frenulum a few times. That often does the trick.

I just love the sixty percent who do get erect. It doesn’t matter whether they are young or old, thin or fat, I just absolutely enjoy holding their erect penis in my hands, and knowing I’m the cause of that. Every now and then, one will ejaculate during the treatment. It’s unfortunate if it happens too soon, because it makes it hard for them to enjoy the rest of the treatment.

Men will often apologize for being erect. I always let them know to relax, that it’s normal. Some of the ones who ejaculate get all embarrassed, red in the face, and stammer out an apology. Others just let the cum flow out onto their bellies, and don’t say a word, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is.

Me, I’m just loving this work. I now make as much as I did as an accountant. The spa charges $90 and I get $60. One of the clients was just too gorgeous to ignore, so I took him home. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but he’s my boyfriend now. He has no problem with me jilling myself around the house, or masturbating myself to sleep on the days when he’s too tired or what-not. Considering what I do for a living, there’s no way I don’t come home horny, practically out of my mind, every evening, and have to do something about it.

An example of my male genital waxing work

Here’s an example of my work.

Waitress

I actually have a good many dollars, but I liked eating at a low-end diner. Frankly, I liked the food better. Nothing beats the biscuits and gravy, friend chicken, and sloppy Joes this place makes.

There was this one waitress who was really sending me. I mean, she’s tall, like 5’10” and has really long, sleek legs. She wore short shorts – that’s the kind of diner it is – showing her legs off even more. She must know the effect she had on guys. She always served me with a smile.

I’d been eating there for three years, ever since my divorce. I got married too young and I was an idiot, but that’s another story.

I was probably averaging two meals a day at the diner.

In time, this waitress, Marie, and I started conversing. She found out that I’m an investment banker, working exclusively with my extended family’s own account. I was reluctant to tell her, because when people find out my financial situation, they can get all weird. Like trying to sell me stuff, or wanting me to invest in their crazy business ideas.

Sometimes, when things were slow, she’d sit down opposite me and talk a while. Frank, the owner of the diner, didn’t seem to care.

The day came when I asked her out. Her answer was not what I expected. Maybe I’m too full of myself or something, but I was sure she’d say, “Yes.” Or at least tell me she had a boyfriend.

“I can’t,” she said. She went on to explain that due to our relative financial positions, she’d feel like she’d be tempted to take advantage of me.

I told her I was very relieved to hear her say that. The honesty, you know. Nevertheless, we didn’t go on a date until months later.

It was a nice date, in a fancy restaurant, which made her slightly uncomfortable. Still, we had a brilliant conversation about nothing in particular, and I could see she was enjoying my company. She was brilliant with repartee, which I really liked.

As the place was closing, and we were the last ones there, she told me, “I don’t want you to be disappointed…”

‘Oh, no, here it comes,’ I thought, assuming she was going to give me the ‘like you like a brother, don’t want sex’ speech.

“I’m a nymphomaniac.”

I was at a total loss for words.

She continued, “It’s painful for me to tell you this, but I think you ought to know. I’m not a nympho in the classic sense. I don’t like fucking.”

Now I was confused.

“I just love orgasms. I can have them over and over again. So, here’s the thing, I want a guy who would enjoy playing with my clit and my tits, and my asshole. It could be with your tongue, or your fingers, or with various toys.”

I was still speechless. I have to admit that all I could do in that moment was to stare at her dumbfounded. I did notice that she said ‘your’ pretty much indicating she truly meant me, not some generic idea of a guy.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong…” she said. “I love penis. As much as you do for me, I’d love to do for you, too.”

Finally, my voice returned, although in a whisper. I was frankly shocked that she was willing to confide that to me, and not only that, but in a public restaurant. I was embarrassed that even though the restaurant was now empty, the kitchen staff may have overheard her. I answered, “I can’t believe this. You are a woman after my own heart. I just love tongue, finger and toy stuff. I’ve never been much of a fucker….”

She and I laughed at the literal use of the term.

We got to my place. She looked around, admiring the spaciousness, the real wood, the stonework. It didn’t take long before we were naked and kissing our heads off on my bed. James, my valet came in, took one look, smiled, and quickly left without saying a word. It wasn’t the first time he saw me naked. He’d walked in on me masturbating a number of times. No big deal. But this was the first time with a girl. Marie was momentarily freaked out, then it seemed that him seeing her like that made her twice as horny, if that was even possible.

Soon enough, we got down to business. First she masturbated me for ten solid minutes. She’s a real expert. She got me to the brink of coming like four times.

Then I did her, with my tongue, bringing her tasty, slightly salty pussy to complete, crashing orgasms like ten times. I didn’t even realize a girl could do that so many times in a row.

We established a rhythm that lives with us to this day: It’s approximately ten minutes for her, then ten minutes for me, and we trade back and forth like that for an hour or two.

Oh yes, we have had conventional sex, our two kids are proof enough of that, but that’s not really our thing. Weird, I know, but there’s nothing wrong with it, right?

Uncle Sam

My parents have always been what I call ‘hippie-rebels.’ They’d do things like go to a nude beach in the summer. They left us kids behind with relatives.

When I turned 18, I was invited to the nude beach for the first time.

I was like, “No way!”

My sister, who was 20 at the time, managed to talk me into it. She kept telling me it wasn’t like what I thought, that I’d have a good time. I doubted it. But, to appease her, and my parents…

So the day arrived. We took the van, since we were quite a group. It included my sister, my younger brother, my parents, my dad’s brother, Uncle Sam, and Aunt Kate, and their grown children Rory and Emily.

Uncle Sam is a kick. You might say he’s eccentric. He has taken to looking like the ‘Uncle Sam’ of American folklore. It probably started as he got older, when people started noticing he does have a natural resemblance.

Now Emily is adopted, and I’ve always had a secret ‘thing’ for her. She’s Asian, tiny, and has long black hair. I’d fuck her in a heartbeat under the right circumstances. That would be circumstances that will never happen. However, the idea of her joining us on the nude beach really perked me up. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. I’d love to see that girl naked – in person, that is. I have seen a picture of her artistically posing. It’s been in a family album for the past year or so. No one seems to think anything about it, but that picture really sends me.

And that brought up, quite literally, my biggest fear: That I wouldn’t be able to control myself, and I’d have an erection on the beach. That would be so unbelievably devastating! When my sister was trying to talk me into coming, that was the thing I reluctantly asked her about – sheepishly. “What if I get… um,… well…”

“Oh, if you have an erection. It’s no big deal, really.” she insisted. Well, it would be a huge big deal to me.

Having been around the boys locker rooms at the Y and at school, and having seen my fair share of porn on the Internet, and able to stay cool, er, soft, I figured I could manage it at the beach.

Boy, was I wrong! The minute our clothes were off in the warm sun, up it sprang. My penis had a mind of its own. I was so embarrassed. Hell, I was fucking mortified! I wanted to run to the water to hide it, but the water around here is way too cold to actually swim in. Right there in front of my parents, my aunt and uncle, my sister and brother, and worst of all, Emily, I sprang wood as soon as I saw Emily naked. Her ass, oh my God, her ass was tiny, smooth and beautiful. Her tits were to die for. Her front, well she had a fairly small, neatly trimmed patch of black hair that didn’t quite hide her slightly protruding pink inner labia. I tried to control my mind, but my prick got the better of me.

Uncle Sam saw my condition, as did everyone else, but while they all pretended not to notice, he simply said, in a quiet voice, but still loud enough that everyone could hear, “Come here, son.”

Now Uncle Sam is the proverbial jolly, fat fellow. He has quite a stomach. He’s old, too, like maybe sixty years old. And, he’s all covered with hair. He’s not much to look at. Not at all.

I was hesitant. But, he had that look. You know the one – when your father’s brother commands you to do something, you do it. I did it. I walked over, with my erection waving in front of me, to Uncle Sam, who was half standing, half reclining against a boulder on the beach. I’m pretty sure the whole family’s eyes were on me, as were the twenty or so other naked people on the beach.

Uncle Sam, like my father, is kind of a hippie rebel. He does what he wants, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. Not a bad philosophy to live by, really, but certainly not my style. I have to admit I’m shy. I try not to rock the boat, ever. My uncle, and my dad, and my mother too, they’re all big-time boat rockers. That has always bothered me.

So I walked over to him. He reached out, and just grabbed my dick. Just like that. He just took it in his hand, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, saying, “Here, let me help you with that.”

I felt his other hand, surprisingly warm and soft, start to caress my scrotum. I was shocked, alarmed, I don’t even have a name for it. But his hands were surprisingly comforting. To this day, I can’t figure it out. What he started doing to me felt really, really nice. In a moment, my fear, or worry, or embarrassment, whatever you want to call it, was gone. I was starting to moan and writhe in some sort of sexual ecstasy. After a few seconds, I didn’t even try to hide it. It came vaguely to my awareness that I was also enjoying all the attention. Somewhere around 30 pairs of eyes were on me, seeing me get a handjob of all things from my fat, naked uncle. And I was loving it! That’s the weird part. I’m not gay or anything. At least I don’t think so.

All too soon, it was over. I squirted several shots of semen into the sand, as Uncle Sam turned my body slightly so it wouldn’t get on him. Afterward, my knees were as weak as my face was red. The embarrassment immediately swept back over me.

Not knowing the right etiquette for such a situation, I just said, “Thank you, Uncle Sam.”

Afterward, no one said anything. In fact, I kind of wish Emily might have said something. Even if it was teasing. I would have liked to discuss it with her. Needless to say, the erection problem was gone, and I actually enjoyed the rest of the afternoon on the beach.

Uncle Don Broke My Penis

My grandfather died when my father was 22 and his brother, my Uncle Don, was 24. Grandfather was a drinker, and managed to kill himself in a fiery single-car collision. He had some money that my dad and Uncle Don inherited in equal shares two years before I was born.

Uncle Don convinced my dad to lend him his half of the money so Don could buy a mobile home park. Somehow, Dad was never able to get repaid even after Don started accumulating wealth. While Don eventually owned three mobile home parks, Dad, Mom, and I rented one of Don’s homes. It was the only single-wide trailer in the park. To get technical, our’s was a mobile home. Anything made after 1974 is called a ‘manufactured home.’ Dad worked as a bus driver.

Mom ran off when I was twelve. The story goes that Don sexually assaulted her, resulting in her having two broken teeth. She took him to court, but lost the case, since there was no proof that he had done anything. Fearing for her life, she disappeared.

When I was 18, I decided to learn something about business so I started attending City College, which was quite difficult financially, even though I still lived with Dad. I had this notion that I’d like to own a mobile home park someday, seeing how profitable they’ve been for my uncle. Unlike Don, I’d treat my tenants right. I figured I could learn enough about business to manage my own park some day.

I was still in my first year, when something went wrong with the circuitry in our trailer. Without electric, there was no heat.

Don said he’d send his handyman, but knowing Uncle Don, that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Don was well-known for treating his tenants badly, even my father, his own brother. After all, his tenants have no choice. Their mobile homes are fastened to the ground. It would cost them tens of thousands of dollars to move.

Uncle Don did invite Dad and I to stay in his place until the electric got fixed. I stayed in Nancy’s room, and Dad stayed in Ned’s room.

Those were my late cousins. Nancy committed suicide at 16, and Ned had taken up drugs and drinking. Soon, Ned was hopelessly addicted. Don threw him out. He was seen around town from time to time, barely hanging on. One day, he had fallen asleep behind a dumpster that was in back of Safeway. The next morning, a garbage truck picked up the dumpster, emptied it, and set it down right on Ned. But that may not be what killed him. According to the police, he might have already been dead, either from a drug overdose, or exposure to the cold. The poor guy had a cast on one leg when he died, so I can only imagine what his last weeks were like.

My first night at Don’s, I went to bed around midnight. It was warm in Don’s house, so I figured I’d jerk off on top of the blankets before falling asleep. I was just about to orgasm when the door burst open and the light came on.

“I’ll have none of that in my house!” Don shouted. He was obviously drunk as he staggered toward me. He was carrying something that turned out to be a tennis racket. He took a swing and hit me right in one testicle and the side of my still erect penis.

I crumpled up in pain as he wobbled out of the room. My balls, my left testicle in particular, hurt so bad, I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was choking as I lay there with my hands between my legs. Ten minutes later, I could breathe normally, but the pain was still unbelievable. I couldn’t even get off the bed to turn out the light.

An hour went by as I just lay there, not only in pain, but freaking out that I was badly injured. The testicle pain started to subside, and then I noticed that my penis was in pain also.

I pulled my hands away and took a look. My penis was as large as if it was erect. In fact, it was bigger in diameter than I had ever seen it, but it was soft and squishy. It had a big black lump on the left side, and curved oddly to the right, much like the picture below.

Not knowing what else to do, I yelled for Don to come take me to the hospital. After probably 15 minutes, he came back to my room, evidently a bit more sober. I showed him my penis. He refused to take me to the hospital, saying “It’s not that bad,” as he walked out, closing the door behind him.

The only thing I could think to do was call an ambulance. That’s how I got to the hospital. While the ambulance was on its way, I tried putting on my underwear. I couldn’t straighten up enough to do that, so I ended up putting on my sweat pants. I stayed barefoot.

After two painful hours in the waiting room, still barefoot, during which my testicle pain went away, but my dick started aching worse than anything in my life. My dad arrived and sat with me, occasionally swearing under his breath about Don.

When I was finally called into a treatment area, the doctors and nurses all took a look at my penis. I wasn’t embarrassed about them seeing my junk due to the condition I was in. How could something like this happen to me? My fear was such that my heart had been beating really fast for literally hours. A urologist was consulted. It took him another hour to arrive. He looked at my penis, held it gingerly, shifting it this way and that. Man alive, did that hurt!

He quit examining me, and sat on a stool to tell me the situation: I’d need surgery, which was to be performed later that morning. My testicle was fine, but Don had literally broken my penis. The side of the tennis racket, hitting my erect penis like that, caused a fracture of my left corpus cavernosum, the spongy tissue that holds blood when one is erect.

They were going to do something called ‘degloving’ to reach and stitch up the affected area. The idea totally weirded me out. Frankly, it scared the shit out of me. The surgeon was going to detach the skin of my penis all around just behind the head. Then, they dissect and peel the skin away all the way down, so the skin is piled around the base of the penis. That gives them access to the broken area. They’d do the repair and then finally, they would pull the skin back up, and stitch it back in place under the head.

Even with the medicine they gave me, I didn’t sleep much during the few hours left of that night, and was still in considerable pain.

The surgery happened, and my recovery was painful, but uneventful. When a nurse changed my bandages the first time, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was circumcised! I so totally didn’t want that. When the urologist came in for a consult, I asked him why that happened. He said, “I thought you’d like that.”

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

The afternoon after my surgery, when I was still woozy from the drugs, Don stormed into my hospital room, and started yelling at me about the $2,700 the ambulance company charged him for the one-mile ride to the hospital. Two orderlies came and took him away.

I woke up a couple of times every night with sharply painful nocturnal erections. For days, I wanted badly to jerk off, but that fully wasn’t going to happen.

A week later, the stitches were removed by an attractive young intern. She had flaming red hair. I thought she’d use anesthetic, but she said, “You won’t need it.” That scared me, until she started snipping and pulling the stitches out. She was right. It didn’t hurt a bit. I became erect, and was remarkably embarrassed about that. She only said, “Aw, it’s fine.”

I noticed that my dick was quite numb as she was working on it.

Finally, after three weeks, I was starting to get back to normal and was way overdue for a good wank. Ever so carefully, I tried moving the skin up and down. It was totally numb. I could feel my penis between my fingertips, but the dick itself felt like a broomstick. There was no sensation at all. Still, I was able to jerk off and cum. What a relief!

The numbness worried me very much. I asked the urologist, and he said the feeling would eventually come back. It did, but it took six months. It took even longer than that to get used to being circumcised. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. At least the terrible sensitivity of the glans has gone mostly away. Just touching against my underwear was like an unbearable tickle for the first few weeks. To this day, my penis feels weird when I rub it, like there are little lumps under the skin.

Meanwhile, a friend of a friend had a father who was a lawyer and suggested I sue Uncle Don. The case dragged on for months. Meanwhile, I was back in our trailer with Dad, and back in college. In a courtroom appearance, pictures of my penis were shown. It was terribly embarrassing. First, the horrible picture of my black, lumpy, bent, fractured penis. Then my penis with stitches under the corona, and fully erect. The urologist had injected something called Caverject to make me artificially hard to check his work.

To my amazement, the lawyer won. I was awarded 1.5 million dollars. The lawyer got $500,000, leaving me a cool million. I was planning to buy a mobile home park of my own.

The only problem was, the money hadn’t been transferred yet. Don was pulling some legal shit that was slowing the process.

Just when I was figuring I’d never see the money, something unexpected happened. Don had gone out drinking, and somehow drove his car right into a bridge abutment. He messed up his innards something terrible. He languished in terrible pain in the hospital for three weeks before he died. I shouldn’t say this, but I was secretly happy. The world is better off without a guy like that.

I figured that was the end of my million dollars, but even more surprising was the call from Don’s lawyer. My fucked up uncle had written a will. He had left two of his mobile home parks to my father, and one to me. Mine was assessed at over $5 million.

Two-Person Office

I work with this super-hot redhead. We share an office. Even though she’s much younger, we find lots to talk about besides work. Since we are the only two in the building, our conversations can be far-ranging and free.

I’ve had the hots for her since I started the job, but I’ve always kept my pants zipped. I mean, I’d never bring up anything of a sexual nature, because it might be considered sexual harassment or something. Besides, if it wasn’t to her taste, I wouldn’t want to offend her.

One day an article came across her computer about all those Catholic priests who molested children. She muttered, “Why didn’t they just masturbate, and leave the kids alone?”

I wasn’t sure I heard her right so I had to ask, “What was that?”

“Oh, I was just commenting that those stupid priests should have just masturbated so they could control their sexual urges.”

I had never heard anything like that from Cathy before. It was shocking and refreshing. I felt she was more of a kindred spirit in a way. But, racking my brain in the moment, I couldn’t come up with a way to extend the conversation.

“Do you agree?” she asked me.

Wow! What an opening, if I could work it right. If I understood the possible direction she might want to take this discussion.

“Oh yes. That’s the reason I’m always cool as a cucumber.”

She laughed, knowing I’m not all that cool.

“I mean, I masturbate. I think it is very important to relieve horniness, so one doesn’t go all crazy in public. That may be why God gave us the ability to masturbate. To control our urges. Just like crying and laughter are outlets for our other emotions.”

“I’ve never thought of that,” she said, adding, “But you’re married.”

“I am, but my wife and I have an understanding. We are deeply in love, but she lost interest in sex. She has told me I can do things with other people as long as it is not fucking.” I couldn’t believe I came right out and used the word ‘fucking’ with Cathy. This was certainly breaking new ground.

“Really! Same with Benny” [her husband]. “He says if I want to jill with the girls from time to time, he’s fine with that.”

“What about wanking with guys?”

“He has never really specified. But if it was someone nice, and harmless, like you, well I’m sure he’d be fine with that.”

I’m sure you can figure out where this conversation led. At quitting time, we locked the door to the office, and mutually masturbated each other to spectacular orgasms. You’d think I’d be finished, but was ready for more. We set out some mats, and sixty-nined each other. I have to tell you, her pussy tasted so natural and nice.

I don’t keep secrets from my wife, so after dinner, I told her all about it.

“Good, she said, that takes the pressure off me.” So this was super cool. I had the green light to masturbate with Cathy whenever I wanted. The only thing is that my wife said that I couldn’t fuck Cathy. That would be just be too problematic. I totally agreed.

The next day, I told Cathy about that discussion, and she said that her husband gave her the green light also.

That was four years ago. I’ve had several opportunities to take more interesting, and higher paying jobs, but for some reason, I stay right in that office with Cathy.

Two Rowdy Young Women

My diner was closed. All my employees had left. I was going to turn out the lights and lock up as soon as my last customers left. I had already drawn all the shades.

The last ones were two young women, having a somewhat rowdy conversation. They weren’t drunk, just carrying on, the way young people will do.

Their subject turned to ballbusting, like a laughing matter, don’t you know.

I don’t know why it bothered me to the degree it did. Maybe because they were talking about hurting people, men in this case, as if it was all OK.

I probably should have minded my own business. Instead, I walked up to their table, and said, “Ballbusting is no laughing matter.”

They immediately shushed, and looked at me with a stunned looked. I continued.

“Women often talk of busting mens’ balls. Do you even know what that is? Do you know anything at all about testicles?”

They silently shook their heads. Just like I figured, they mostly didn’t know what they were talking about. They probably assumed testicles were like grapes, easily squished.

This is where I got crazy, and I’ll never be able to explain my action. I guess it was just a moment of insanity.

“Look, these are not for hurting. They’re for gentle enjoyment.” I said as I quickly undid my belt, opened my fly and pulled down both my pants and my underwear. “Take a good look, this is what you’ve been joking about.”

I was starting to pull my pants right back up again. I was already way out of line and I knew it.

“Hang on a sec, Mike,” one of the two women said. She knew my name. Everyone does. It’s “Mike’s Diner” after all.

I stopped in mid-pull on my underwear. Why, I don’t know.

“Let’s see,” the other woman chimed in, as she reached out. I immediately backed away. I figured with all this talk of ballbusting…

“C’mon, I won’t hurt you. I just want to see what your ‘real’ balls are like.”

I cautiously stepped forward. I didn’t know where this was going. The only thing I was fairly certain of is that she wouldn’t really hurt my balls.

I was feeling a mix of emotions. I was starting to become embarrassed for what I had done. But something else. I was like a proud father, instructing his daughters in something important. Go figure. I was also fearful that I really had gone too far.

She reached out, and gently massaged my balls between her thumb and first two fingers. First my right testicle, then the left.

“Mmm, interesting,” she said as she continued to gently massage my balls within my scrotum.

Evidently not wanting to be left out, the other girl started massaging my balls. So now, one girl was squeezing one, and the other girl, squeezing the other ball.

You can probably imagine what happened. Right, my penis became erect. After less than a minute, it was sticking up at a proud 45-degree angle and bobbing with my heartbeat.

The first girl wrapped her fingers around the shaft. I hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, so this touch felt especially nice. I was just standing there, loving it, in front of these two girls.

She told her friend, “It’s hard and soft all at the same time. It’s like a rock inside, but has this soft warm skin that slides over it so nicely.”

Her friend gently pushed the hand away, replacing it with her own hand and started stroking up and down. Much too soon I ejaculated. Some of my cum landed in the first girl’s hair, as they both jumped back, avoiding any more shots of cum.

They started laughing. I started laughing also as I was pulling my underwear and then my pants back up.

“So there you go, young ladies. You don’t bust balls. You enjoy them. OK?”

More laughter. A moment later, they went home, thanking me for a nice meal and ‘desert.’

I’ve not seen them since. I think back on that strange evening often, typically releasing a load of sperm into my hand in response.

I’ve often wondered if this was their first ever experience touching a man’s equipment. It seems from their reactions like it was. But surely… Well, I guess I’ll never know.

Every now and then the thought occurs to me that I lost two good customers. Why didn’t they come back? Probably because the scene was just too weird. So, it cost me some money. But I think it was worth it, don’t you?

Twelve Students

I’m going to be a psychologist when I grow up. In fact, I believe I’ll specialize in sexual research. I’ve learned a few things already. For instance, if you want something, don’t be shy. Just ask! That seemingly simple technique works wonders!

Knowing that, I went to Dr. Wilton, the principal of our school, laid out my plan, and asked his permission. Now, you should know that our school is progressive. Established in 1978, it’s a ‘free school’ meaning open curriculum. Or, at least it was back in ’78. Over the years, it has become an almost typical high school, although instead of ordinary electives, we have two hours each afternoon to study exactly what we want. Much of this study is not on school grounds, but all over the city, at various volunteer mentors’ homes and places of business. The teachers, who prefer to call themselves ‘counselors’ guide us in integrating our own interests such that we end up writing, learning relevant math, and presenting our projects, so that we end up well-rounded. Interestingly, several graduates of our school have gone on to have illustrious careers.

So, when I told Dr. Wilton that I wanted to conduct a research study, involving 24 kids, he didn’t balk. Well, not entirely. When I told him I wanted 12 kids to masturbate together daily, then chronicle their results in their social lives against 12 kids who didn’t masturbate, or at least not as often and socially, he did his best to suppress an expression of shock, then he told me:

1. There was to be no sexual activity beyond masturbation. No penetrating of anyone’s anything.

2. None of the ‘counselors’ could supervise, because they could too easily be construed as being involved in illegal ways since we were minors.

3. For the same reason, this could not be conducted on school premises.

4. It was to be stated in any presentation, written, video, or live, that the school was in no way associated with this research.

Frankly, I was rather amazed that he went along with it at all. At the end, he told me that he thought it was a very valid experiment, and he would be very interested to read the results. He went on to say that masturbation ought to be a required subject in school, like physical education, so that students wouldn’t be dealing with pent up horniness, and therefore they’d be better able to study. I was my turn to be shocked, hearing this coming out of an adult!

Getting 12 kids to participate as masturbators wasn’t easy. Almost to a person, they said ‘yes’ then a day or so later they backed out. Finally, after pestering everyone in sight, I got my twelve, 8 boys, and 4 girls.

You’d think that getting the 12 control students would be easier. First, I went to the Christian club. They were amused, but informed me that Christians do masturbate, quite often, in fact. “This is not your father’s Christianity” they told me. We don’t hold wanking as a taboo.

Anyway, I got six kids from the club. After all, my control group wasn’t supposed be kids who didn’t jerk off at all. They were supposed to represent more-or-less normal kids. Finally, I also got six kids who weren’t in the club, two of which claimed that they don’t masturbate at all. All these kids had to do was fill out questionnaires about their social lives at the start and then again at the end of the six-week experiment. The masturbating group had to fill out the exact same questionnaires.

The last thing on the agenda was to find a place, since we couldn’t use any school facilities. My main counselor, Mr. Taylor, offered his guest house. This guy had inherited quite a bit of money. I believe he was a teacher by choice, not because he needed the money. His guest house was bigger than my family’s whole house, with a large, carpeted, well-furnished living room. Other school activities had been held there. He warned me that since he couldn’t be there to supervise, we’d better not leave a mess, or our use of the place would be terminated instantly. No food wrappers left on table tops, no stains on the carpet, and that sort of thing. I agreed.

The first day started out quite awkwardly. We had 10 kids, plus me as the moderator. I decided that I’d be one of the test subjects, as well. (How could I resist?) One of the boys, Jeremy, had a dental appointment on that first day.

We all gathered at Mr. Taylor’s house, and sat around on the sofas and chairs for quite a while making uncomfortable small talk. I didn’t quite know how to get the festivities under way. Fortunately, this group were all enthusiastic about what was to unfold, but not one was taking their clothes off. Kyle piped up with a suggestion, “Turn up the heat. It’s fucking cold in here.”

Oh, right, of course people would be more inclined to get naked if the room was warm. May found the thermostat and turned it up. Kendra suggested we might start with some dancing. A couple of the kids found Mr. Taylor’s stereo and CDs, and put on some music.

We started dancing. It was fun, even though there were twice as many boys as girls. Still, everyone was clothed, and the nervousness in the room was palpable. I figured out it was up to me to get things going, and if I didn’t start soon, I could feel that the people were going to start heading home, disappointed, and not likely to ever return.

I took off my shirt, so I was topless. A couple of the other boys followed my lead. Then, the magic got underway: Yvette took off her top, revealing her wonderful tits! Oh my god, I felt something like adrenaline flow through my lower stomach area. This was going to become real. Until now, I hadn’t allowed myself to fully imagine what was going to happen.

Teddy whistled, and the other boys were practically drooling. Come to think of it, I believe May was kind of drooling also. I was having trouble taking my eyes off Yvette, but when I glanced to my left, there was Sandra topless, also. Her tits were small, but absolutely beautiful.

Paul was the boldest among us, always the one to crack risqué jokes, always the life of the party in any group, always smiling, always willing to take dares, so it’s no surprise that he as casually as if he were stepping into his own home shower, he stripped totally naked in front of everyone. More than that, his little wiener, oddly still hairless, considering he was 15 years old, was sticking up at a 45 angle fully erect, and waving back and forth as he danced.

To shorten a long story, it wasn’t long before we were all naked, and all the boys were erect. The dancing kind of faded out, as we all took positions on the various chairs and couches in the room. No one was wanking at first. There were eight young erections at full attention, and four very excited young girls, but nothing was happening.

I said to myself, “OK,” took a deep breath, and started working the skin of my penis up and down. Within ten seconds, everyone else was wanking furiously.

Thinking intelligently for just a moment, I warned the boys not to get cum on the furniture. This caused May to laugh, adding, “And girls, don’t get anything wet, either!”

That first day, all the boys except Will came within a minute or two, and Will was only a couple minutes behind. The girls were all moaning and arching their backs in orgasmic delight also. Even though no one touched anyone, it was the most erotic day of my life. When I got home, I jerked off again, remembering the day, and especially the four pretty girls. Even May, with her extra-wide body, was a real looker, in my opinion.

We were obligated to meet at Mr. Taylor’s house three afternoons a week for the duration of the six-week experiment, and with great enthusiasm, almost everyone showed up all the time. There would be the occasional kid who missed a day due to a family obligation, medical exam, or maybe detention for doing something stupid in school, and they always expressed great disappointment.

I had recommended to everyone that we keep this whole thing a secret. That didn’t last long. The whole school was aware of our little group, and I was asked like a million times whether others could join. I really wanted to let them all in, but I couldn’t. It would either wreck the accuracy of the experiment, or maybe even get us all kicked out of Mr. Taylor’s guest house.

After that first day, it didn’t take us long to get really, really involved. I mean, by the end of the experiment, I had been wanked, and I had done lots of wanking of others. I had had my fingers in all the girls’ asses, and most of the boys, too. I was just loving my daily dose of fingering the various girls’ pussies. At the start, I didn’t think I’d care for oral sex at all, but after Kendra gave me that first blowjob, I was hooked. Kyle developed a strong liking for the taste of cum, so he sucked me many times. I learned to love giving cunnilingus, and fellatio, too.

However, we were all very good students. We never fucked anyone. Somehow, everyone was very good about that. Oh, there was lots of kissing and hugging going on, and two of the girls became quite steady with two of the guys, but at least in Mr. Taylor’s guest house, no one did anything in the way of fucking.

Six weeks came and went all too soon. I had all the kids from both groups fill out the questionnaires. Unfortunately, from a scientific point of view, the experiment was a failure. There were no discernible trends. I had hoped that the study would reveal that the masturbatory group was more socially settled, less frantic about sexual matters, than the other group, but the results were nearly the same for both groups, with perhaps just a slightly better outcome for the wankers.

There was only one thing to do about the nebulous results: Run the experiment again.

Sandy and Amber

By Spurtz

Sandy and Amber, mother/daughter sexual threesome

Mom and Daughter Get Busy With My Cock

Here’s a story that starts off true and then transforms into how I wish it had turned out.

I met a woman shortly after divorcing my second wife. She flat out told me when we first met that I was too old for her as I was 15 years older. That lasted until the first time we had sex and then she decided maybe I wasn’t too old after all.

The most interesting thing about this woman is she had an 18 year old daughter. Without exaggeration the daughter was without a doubt the best looking girl I had ever seen. Not only a beautiful face but a body to die for. In fact I even discussed with the mom about putting her up for a Playboy Playmate which I have no doubt she would have easily qualified. But the mom had concerns about the attendant notoriety that would come with it.

They lived in a high end condo that had a community pool adjacent to their unit. To make matters worse the daughter was in the pool every day during the summer wearing a string bikini that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Even lounging around the house she was always either in the bikini or often just panties and brassiere. She knew what she had and wasn’t afraid to show it off. I had a constant hard-on anytime I was around her.

I used to stay over at the condo during the weekends. And later even weeknights. The mom was an interior decorator and sometimes had appointments with clients on the weekend. One Saturday the mom, whose name was Sandy, had an early appointment and left before I even got out of bed. I was in the master bath brushing my teeth. I had just stepped out of the shower and was naked. As I stood at the counter brushing my teeth, the daughter, whose name was Amber, suddenly stepped into the bathroom. She was wearing a robe that was open in the front and I could clearly see her luscious naked breasts and pubic hair.

She was totally non-plussed with me being naked and said she had to get something out of the medicine cabinet. She leaned right across in front of me and looked down at my dick and said “Nice cock.” My mind went into overdrive and I figured right away that the pussy was there for the taking. I felt myself getting hard. I also knew she was very competitive with her mother and I also figured that if I fucked her, she would somehow let her mother know.

OK, readers, what you have read so far is all true. And in truth, I didn’t actually do anything. But here’s what could have happened.

“So you like my cock?” I responded. “Would you like to have it buried in that sweet puss?” She reached down and grabbed my dick. “What do you think?” she replied. I tossed my toothbrush into the sink and pushed her into the adjacent bedroom and onto the bed, pulling off her robe on the way down.

I spread those beautiful thighs and buried my face in her bush. My tongue went to work on her clit as I shoved two fingers into her wet cunt. Within seconds she was humping her pussy into my face and screaming, “I’m cumming.” I kept lapping her clit as she writhed around like a wild animal cumming over and over. When things finally died down a bit I moved up onto the bed and slid my hard cock into her sopping wet pussy. I fucked her every which way I could think of. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and shoved my dick in as far as it would go and unloaded spurt after spurt of creamy jism into that sweet teen pussy.

We lay there exhausted for some time and then just sort of played with each other. I worshipped those two beautiful teen tits while she lazily stroked my cock. We probably spent close to an hour with foreplay before she asked me, “Are you going to fuck me again?”

I took more time on the second go and at one point I was on top of her with my dick buried in her pussy. She had her legs locked around my back as I slowly pistoned in and out of her sweet cunt. Once again I was on the verge of ejaculation when this loud voice screamed, “What the fuck are you doing?” Mom had arrived home and we hadn’t even heard her. But I couldn’t stop. I was too close to cumming. And Amber locked her legs even tighter around me and said “Keep fucking me.”

Sandy is screaming, “Stop that! Stop that right now!” And I’m pumping away into Amber’s teen pussy like mom isn’t even in the room. My orgasm was one of the best of my life. I’ve always wondered if being caught somehow heightened my orgasm. It seemed like I was never going to stop cumming. But all things come to an end and finally I collapsed onto Amber, totally wiped out. I lay there breathing hard when I felt Sandy grab me and try to pull me off of her daughter.

She successfully rolled me off of Amber and I flopped over on my back with my wet half-hard cock slapping against my stomach. “I can’t believe you were fucking my daughter,” screamed Sandy. “And you, you little bitch,” she screamed at Amber, “You are just a fucking slut.”

“Calm down, mom,” said Amber. “What’s the big deal? We were just having some fun. It’s not the end of the fucking world. I have to listen to the two of you fucking your brains out every night. I wanted some of that cock. And it was great. I loved it. And I want more.” Amber reached over and lightly stroked my cock. Sandy slapped her hand away.

“Get dressed,” Sandy demanded. “We have to talk about this.” We quickly pulled on some clothes and followed Sandy into the living room where we all sat down. “Look, I can understand things getting out of hand and I realize how attractive Amber is. Who wouldn’t want to fuck her. But you two have had your fun and that’s got to be the end of it. Understand?”

We both hung our heads in contrition and mumbled an assent to her question. Sandy stood up and said she had to run to the store and with that she was out the door. Amber and I looked at each other and started pulling our clothes off. Within seconds of Sandy going out the door I had my hard cock buried in that wonderful teen pussy and pumped away to another glorious orgasm.

Things were a little tense around the house that evening but once Sandy and I were in bed we had our usual extended session of fucking and sucking. She never brought up what had happened. The next morning Amber upped the ante by showing up for breakfast totally nude.

“Amber, get some damn clothes on,” demanded Sandy. “Why?” replied Amber. “We’ve all seen each other nude and it’s a lot more comfortable. I think it will be more fun if we are all naked together.”

“Gets my vote,” I said as I pulled my clothes off. Sandy realized she was in the minority and reluctantly shed her clothes. Seeing Amber’s spectacular body already made me erect. I slipped into the kitchen booth to try to hide my excitement. Amber slid into the booth opposite me. Then I felt her bare toes caressing my hard on. She started sliding her toes up and down the length of my prick as Sandy prepared breakfast. I was in sex overload looking across the booth at those magnificent breasts. In an amazingly short time I felt the cum boiling in my balls and proceeded to shoot a load all over Amber’s feet.

Amber swung her body around and extended her cum covered feet out of the booth. “Mom, look, I made John cum with just my toes.”

Sandy was shocked beyond belief. “You two are fucking unbelievable. Clean that stuff off of your feet. And John, grab that box of Kleenex and mop up any cum that’s on the floor. I’m sure not all of it got on Amber. You two have to control yourself.”

“Mom,” said Amber. “We are just having fun. At least I know I am. What’s the problem with getting John off. I know it must feel great for him. Doesn’t it John?”

“Huh, yeah, sure,” I replied weakly.

That little event kind of set the stage for how things went from there. Amber wanted to fuck all the time and I think Sandy just kind of gave up fighting the inevitable. A seminal moment occurred early one morning as Sandy and I lay in bed asleep. I was awakened by feeling a wetness on my cock, which was already sporting morning wood. I woke up to find Amber in bed with us sucking my dick. She was really going to town. She had quickly grown into a world class cocksucker and loved to take a load of my jism down her throat. I saw her reach over and shake her mom awake. What the fuck?, I thought.

Sandy opened her eyes to see her sweet daughter taking my 7” cock down her throat right to the balls. Amber lifted off my dick and said, “I need some help mom, John’s cock is too much for little old me.” She pulled Sandy closer to me and held my cock out to her mom’s waiting mouth. Sandy had no choice other than to engulf my throbbing prick in her mouth and proceeded to take over where her daughter left off. The two of them traded my prick back and forth until I exploded into Sandy’s throat. It gagged her a bit and as she pulled off my prick, Amber wasted no time in popping my cum-covered cock into her mouth and sucking me clean.

From that point on the household turned into a continuing fuckfest. Both women competed for my dick on a near hourly basis. I tried my best to keep up but it was impossible. They drained me of jism every single day. I was getting fucked four or five times every day on the weekends and at least twice a day on weekdays and it was just too much. Thankfully the novelty wore off after a couple of weeks and we settled into a nice routine where I was fucking each one of them about once every day. The women’s monthly periods did interrupt that routine to where I only had to fuck one of them for a few days. But even the twice a day routine was wearing me out.

On a weekday I would arrive from work about 5:30 or 6:00 and immediately jump in the shower. Amber would join me and then we would hit her bed for a glorious fuckfest while mom made dinner. After dinner we would watch some tv and then go to bed and it was then my turn to service Sandy. Sometimes Amber would join us. Also, Amber liked to show off to her mother so occasionally we would have sex in the living room while Sandy was making dinner, watching us flail away. Amber particularly liked to blow me with mom watching and pull my dick out of her mouth and jack me off spraying my cum all over those great tits. Sandy never said anything so I never knew what she thought. I know this sounds crazy but I always felt that Sandy somehow got a kick out of watching Amber perform.

Things did taper off finally to where I probably was fucking each one only three times a week. There was no set pattern so sometimes I would find myself bending Amber over the dining room table fucking her up the ass and as soon as I pulled my dripping cock out of her, there was Sandy wanting her turn.

I did the best I could for about five or six months and finally had to call it quits. Fortunately my job was taking me out of town so I had a valid excuse to put an end to it. It was fun while it lasted but my poor dick could only handle so much.

Sandy and Amber, mother/daughter sexual threesome

Category: Memoir

Jerking Off is Fantastic

by Spurtz