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Martha

By: PALady757



Her name is Martha, such a plain name for such a beautiful woman. She stood 5'10', had long auburn hair that hung almost to her butt, and what a cute butt that was. She measured 40DD-30-36. All of that and she belonged to Ray, heart, mind, body and soul. There wasn't one thing Ray wanted her to do that she wouldn't die trying to accomplish. Although she was 30 now, she had lived with Ray since the day she turned 18.

Ray was nearly 40 and just an average guy. He was almost 6 foot tall, had a beer belly, sometimes a beard (when he didn't feel like shaving), and brown hair down to his shoulders. I don't know what it was about him that attracted woman like flies. 

I drive truck and hadn't seen Ray since we were in the navy together years ago. I happened to stop at a bar one night and ran into him. I was laying over for the weekend and after rehashing old times and a few too many beers, Ray invited me to stay at his house. I gladly accepted the invite, especially happy to be away from that truck for a couple nights.

Ray lived about 10 minutes from the bar. I grabbed enough clothes and a toothbrush and jumped in his car. On the way I hinted about finding a woman, I mean it had been a while. Ray assured me that he was a wonderful host and would provide me with anything I wanted or needed. I liked the sound of that and certainly didn't question him.

It was late when we walked into Ray's house. It was a nice ranch style home, neatly kept, and way out in the boonies! Lights were on and it looked like someone was up. As we entered Ray yelled...Martha, come here, we have company. Yes Ray...came a voice from somewhere in the back of the house. 

I wasn't prepared for the goddess that entered the room. Martha was stunning, the kind of woman that you really had to look at again and again just to make sure you were seeing what you thought you were. She was wearing short, and I mean short shorts and a halter top that hardly contained her massive breasts. Her perky little nipples stood out against the fabric begging to be touched. Her long, tanned muscular legs were amazingly shapely. My mouth hung open as Ray introduced us. Martha extended her hand to me and I know it was 30 seconds before I could move mine to reciprocate. 

Ray explained that we were old friends, that I was staying for the weekend and told her to make me feel at home. Her eyes lit up as she walked over to Ray, kissed him and said thank you Sweetie. Thank you? I didn't understand her response. Now, get us a beer and then go get ready...Ray instructed her. Without a moment of hesitation, she did as she was told. While she was gone, Ray explained to me that Martha was his, I mean he owned her. He hadn't bought her, paid any money or anything but she belonged to him. It had been that way for 12 years. He went on to say that he loved fucking her, loved having her in his home but she was there to do exactly as he told her to do. Knowing Ray the way I did, I couldn't help but wonder what all that might entail! The Ray I knew did a few drugs, drank a lot of beer, and wasn't the one woman man that a lot of guys his age were.

He went on to explain that Martha was mine for the night, to have and hold in any way I wished. I tried to say something about imposing but Ray ignored me and kept talking. When I finally got to say something all that would come out was...Thank you!!!! Tonight you will be alone, use, abuse, whatever you want, but just enjoy...he quipped with a maniacal smile...for tomorrow after I have rested a bit, I may want to watch. That's a little fetish I have. She is the best fuck, to have or to watch and I fucking love to watch another man's cock sliding in and out of her. With that, he abruptly got up and left me sitting in the living room.

Some time had passed before Martha appeared again. I have to admit, I was a tad nervous. It's not everyday you run into an old friend, get invited to his house and get offered the most beautiful woman in the world to use at your discretion! Martha sat beside me on the couch, smiling that brilliant smile that melted my heart. What's this all about?...I asked her...Do you do this often? I'm sure Ray told you that I belong to him. My life is devoted to that man. I do whatever he wants me to do, anytime he wants me to do it, with whomever he tells me to do it with. I must say though that he seldom affords men complete freedom with me, you are apparently a good friend of his...she explained. 

Do you need to shower or would you like a bath?...she asked. Um, I'd really like a shower if you don't mind...I answered. She took me by the hand, lead me to a bedroom and asked me to get undressed while she started my water. I did just that and waited for her to return. When she came back, she had her hair pulled up tightly in a ponytail and donned a robe. Again, she took me by the hand and we headed for the shower. Unless you object, I'd like to wash you...she said. Object? No, I don't think so...I muttered. She stood before me, untied the belt on her robe and let it slip to the floor. She was completely naked. Now, I've seen naked women, and plenty of them but she was exquisite. Her skin was so smooth, so dark. Her breasts were huge but so firm with those perky nipples protruding. Her pussy was shaved completely. She stood still while I gazed, used to the stares, I'm certain. Then I looked into her eyes. They were violet, absolutely mesmerizing. I fell in love in an instant!

We stepped into the shower simultaneously. Please, let me take care of you...she simply said. Shit, at that very moment my dick got hard and stood at attention between us. She grinned, enclosed her hand around it and said, talking to him only...Yes, my sweet baby, I'll get to you soon. I stood facing her, my back to the hot water as she started by washing my hair. My dick kept rubbing against her taunt belly as her big nipples were poking into my chest. My God, she felt like a dream, I was so fucking horny I wanted to take her right then.. What are you thinking?...she asked as she rinsed my hair. I want to fuck you right now...I stated matter of factly. And how do you want to do that?...she replied in just the same way. I didn't speak as I turned her away from me and bent her over. Her beautiful ass was all wet and slippery as I grabbed ahold of it. She backed up to me like an animal in heat. My hard 8 inches found it's way between her ass cheeks and slid in her hole. 

Her pussy was so tight I had to back up and keep trying just to get my 8 inches in. Oh fuck, it felt so good I almost blew my load right then. Then, she started fucking me! Pushing back so hard I had to hold on tightly just to keep my balance. She placed one hand on the shower wall as I felt her other one touching my dick as it slid in and out of her. I was pounding the hell out of her pussy while she vigorously played with her clit. I felt her pussy start to tighten, heard her soft little moans and my balls swelled so tight that I couldn't hold back any longer. I started to cum with a loud moan, a shudder and pulled her ass hard against me. She wiggled that cute butt against me draining every last ounce of cum I had.

When my shriveled dick fell out of her hot pussy she turned and kissed me. Now I have to wash again too...she said with a smile. She grabbed the soap, washed her pussy let the water rinse her off and started on me again. She washed my face, my chest, my legs, my cock and then asked me to turn around. Her hands lathered my back and down my legs then slid between my ass cheeks. She lathered my butt hole over and over, it felt so good. As I turned to rinse, she slid in behind me. I felt her kneeling and what happened next surprised even me. She spread my ass and licked my asshole. Well, you can imagine how my cock reacted to that. 

With a wet hand Martha reached around and stroked it, slowly as her tongue found it's way inside of my tight ass. Shit, I thought I was going to cum again. Oh fuck, I had to restrain myself. She was fucking my ass with her tongue, in and out past that tight little sphincter. She sensed that I was about to blow again and stopped. Apologizing she said...I'm sorry, I'm just really greedy and I want you to cum in me, not in the shower. Sorry? Um, no need to be sorry...I stammered. We finished, got out and she dried me, every inch of me.

I should've asked before this, I know...Martha said...but are you hungry? I could fix you something to eat. Eating was definitely on my mind but not food, I assured her. I swear I saw a twinkle in her eye as she lead me to a bedroom.

Martha



I found this story in Ted's files after his passing. It was unfinished, and written quite awhile ago since he did it on a typewriter. I have filled in the blanks as best I could. Lee

I met Martha after my breakup with my wife Patti. Martha was a redhead, just like Patti. That is where the resemblance ended.

She stood a solid 6' tall, only 19 years old, and she was already a master with makeup, since she did have the one problem that plagues redheads. Her complexion was rugged from years of skin eruptions, but it was impossible to see unless she was fresh out of the shower.

The rest of her was spectacular! The first time I saw her, she was wearing a filmy green off the shoulder gown, traces of red swirled through it. I showed every curve of her body, and what a body!

Martha worked out constantly, her abdomen was flat as a pancake, arms taut, her large breasts stood out proudly. She had green eyes, and she looked right at me, then a slow smile came on her face and I was lost!

I knew right then and there that the party was a setup, her brother and his wife had invited the two of us, the only single male and female there. So we hooked up instantly.

Martha and I dated for weeks, we would drive out to a nearby point and look at the Columbia river. We necked, I would try to touch her breast and she would stop me.

This went on for some time, I was beginning to wonder. One day we happened to be sitting side by side, I was on her right for a change. I reached to touch her and she let me, no resistance at all!

This was a big change, and I took full advantage! In no time at all, I had her bare right breast in my hand, I started to slip my hand over to caress the other one and she stopped me!

I didn't understand, but I was enjoying feeling her so much I just spent my attentions to her right side.

That night I took her to my apartment, we sat around and necked. I pointedly sat on her right side, and again, no resistance at all as I reached out and touched her. Then she asked me to turn the lights out!

In short order, we were in the bedroom, I got her top off, and was exploring. Finally I got my mouth on her left nipple, and gave it a little suck, and it went "pop!" as it inverted. Martha had one nipple that was always turned in, the right side stayed out and was normal!

I realized she was bashful about that, so I proceeded to just be delighted in her, once she was aroused, both stayed out nicely.

I began to work on the slacks she was wearing that day, finally got them tugged off. She was down to just panties by now, I dropped my own trousers and lay there and held her for quite a long time.

I was gently stroking her side, her breath was coming in short little gasps, she was ready. I reached and let my hand brush across her crotch, and felt her stiffen at my touch.

There was a mass of something down there that didn't feel normal!

It flashed in my mind for a second that she was in drag, but that wasn't right, she felt female, just a large mass of flesh.

But I didn't react, so she relaxed a bit. I had soon had her nude, and as my hand slipped between her legs, I again felt the large mass of flesh protruding from her.

She was soft, wet, and now beginning to moan. As I explored, I found both of her outer lips to be huge! Huge is an understatement, each side was a good full inch wide, and protruded a full inch from her. They were actually getting larger as they engorged from my touch.

"I am ugly down there!" she whimpered. I just buried my face in her in response, managing a "No you aren't!"

I felt her hand drop down to grasp me, she gasped and said "Big!" then her head went back, lost in sensations.

I poked around with my tongue feeling for her button, I had no problem finding it. Her clit was a round little bulb on the end of a shaft that was about the size of a cigarette filter, it stuck out and down and was as firm as a rock!

Amazing anatomy, I had never seen anything like it, and still haven't to this day! My current work as a massage therapist means I see a lot of pussies. All of them I have ever worked on, in fact, I am a master with draping.

There is something for you ladies to think about when you are getting a massage from a male. Yes, your therapist can see you if he chooses, and you likely won't know for sure, fun stuff!

I took Martha's clit in my mouth, that felt strange to be able to feel it, actually slide my mouth up and down it. It was just like a tiny penis, in fact.

Now I am not gay, quite the opposite, but this was an exciting experience! I spent a long time bringing her to no less than a half dozen solid orgasms.

Then I slid up, and entered her. She wrapped around me like stuffing myself into a hot loaf of bread, and on each downstroke her clit stabbed into me. She simply gushed, squealing and moaning the whole time.

Martha wasn't bashful about her body around me after that. That same evening, she even let me turn on the lights and look at her. She was spectacular, no doubt about that. And I was so obviously delighted that her confidence came right back.

"You are the first man to ever see me nude!" she told me. Then she told me that one lover had fucked her and left, never calling again. The other had gotten to that point, stopped in shock and called her a name and left.

So I knew the reason for her hesitance, but she was wonderful to me!

Martha was in a local play, and it was just a week or so before the first showing. I sat in the audience and watched as she came out in a French Maid costume, playing the part as stupid and sexy at the same time.

She had another part in the same play, she had to switch from the short dress and tights, with ballet slippers, to an old hag, and she had just a couple of minutes to do it. There was a huge pause in the flow as she missed her cue, finally she was on the stage.

That evening she was unhappy, Terry, the stage manager had really gotten on her. She had to change backstage, that meant stripping completely, then getting into the old hag costume in just a minute or so.

Backstage had all of the other actors and actresses in very tight confines. Martha was bashful about her body still, so she was being careful when changing that no one saw her.

I explained to her that she had to do it fast, or they would move her understudy into her spot. Besides, the play was rated adult, several of the other actresses had topless scenes, one even had a bare rear to the audience scene. The whole play was about a perverted master of the house, and the people he surrounded himself with.

I went with Martha to the next practice, she again missed her cue, closer this time, but the pause was obvious.

Terry again told her she had to make the cue, no matter what, so they repeated the scene. Martha looked at me in a bit of panic, I just told her, "Go for it, you are beautiful!"

Terry went back to coach her through it, Martha ducked offstage, and came out right on cue! I was standing in the wings and caught part of it, she had jerked off the Maid costume, grabbed the old hag dress and threw it over her head, fully nude for just a few seconds.

I watched as she was facing Terry, he handed her the long dirty looking pullover, his eyes dropped to her crotch and went wide for a second!

Martha had no way to hide her large pubes, her wisp of red pubic hair did nothing to help. She finished the scene, Terry called for a rerun.

It hit me he wanted another peek, and the 2nd run was the same as the first. Martha pointedly did not look at him as he helped her with the change, I also noticed several of the others had stopped to look, too.

For some reason, the idea gave me a little rush. Terry came over to me as Martha was doing her lines in the 3rd act, he just grinned at me and said, "What a woman!" Then he surprised me with asking me, "Do you think I could get her to do the clown scene?

That scene was the one where the master of the house is dressed as a clown, and is surrounded by the ladies of the house, all in various stages of undress. In partial domination, he orders one lady, centerstage, to drop her gown. She does, back to the audience, and bends over to step out of it just as the curtain falls.

I told him I didn't know, she was a bit bashful. He told me that it would be great, her body was so different that he was sure it would be good for increasing the audience.

I flushed a bit at the thought of Martha nude onstage, if even just for a few seconds. I told him he would need to work up to that, and suggested he spice up her french maid costume a little first.

At the next practice, Martha complained a bit to Terry, he had taken the heavy underpants she wore with the French Maid outfit and changed it to a thin G-string. He explained to her that it was part of the show, the ladies and servants of the master were expected to be sexy.

Martha griped but went along with it, especially after I told her she looked fine in it.

I sat in the front row for the next play. Martha came out, on tiptoes doing her ditzy act. As I looked up at the stage, it was easy to see that there was a lot barely covered by her G-string, they way she protruded caused it to slip inside her as she walked. No amount of trying to hold her legs together worked, one side slipped out into view. The audience gasped at first, then came a thunderous round of applause as she rushed to the wings to change.

Martha was flushed and excited that night, they had really liked her. I told her she was beautiful, we made mad love that night, she was hot as a pistol!

The Saturday night show arrived, I noticed a good 2 dozen more people in the crowd than normal. I managed to get a front row seat again, just barely.

Martha's scene arrived, out she came. None of the careful knees together stuff, she played it sexy and daffy. Her whole persona was perfect! Just as the scene was about to close, she slowly made a turn to face the audience, hesitated, then darted off. For one brief instant, all of us in the front rows could see her undergarment, pulled up inside her, both large lips on display! There was another thunderous round of clapping and hollering, and again when she came out moments later for the Hag number.

Martha was starting to get into it, she was delighted with the attention. I was fully embedded in her that evening, when I mentioned to her that I wondered what would happen if she did the scene with no panties at all?

She gasped and said she couldn't do that, but she orgasmed almost instantly at the thought! I just let it go, curious to see what would happen.

I went to the next practice and all was normal, the production was set to run again Wednesday night. A story in the local paper in arts section didn't hurt. They described the play as mildly graphic, sexy and fun, and did a full paragraph on Martha, proclaiming her as an "up and coming" future star!

Martha was beside herself with happiness. I was amazed at how she had gone from shy and bashful to almost an extrovert in just 3 short months, but I was enjoying the hell out of it.

The house was packed that night, I was curious as to how it would go. Finally, Martha's first scene arrived. The first thing I spotted was the makeup was different, she looked a lot more in charge somehow, gone was the ditzy look. She strode purposefully across the stage, did her lines, then turned to face the crowd. No panties, she was fully on display. She stood like that for a good 5 seconds, then turned and did the exit. The crowd was already erupting. I was less than 6 feet from her, I could clearly see her button sticking out, she was fully aroused.

The whole scenario was hot! I watched as she did the next scene, then came the finale as the master called his servants. The one center stage was Martha!

I watched as he held up his hands, then pointed at Martha, ordering her to undress and serve him. She reached for the clip, let the dress fall to her knees. Then she bent to step out of the dress, when the Master proclaimed, "On your knees, wench!"

This was new, I waited for the curtain to fall, Martha was on her knees, back to us, facing him.

Then he proclaimed, "Grovel at my feet, wench!" Martha leaned forwards, put her face on his feet, her bare behind pointed right at the crowd.

It was dead silent as she leaned forward, knees spread apart. Her huge lips opened, no one in this crowd could miss that.

Finally the curtain fell, the crowd clapped and hollered for more.

I went backstage, looking for Martha, I didn't see her. I went over to Terry's office, thinking he might know where she was. I opened the door, Terry had Martha bent over his desk, pounding away at her.

I guess I helped create a monster. I turned and walked out to my car, got in it and left.

Terry and Martha married a few weeks later, win some, lose some. Sure was fun while it lasted...



Martha and the Bard



This story is largely a personal fantasy, but it is based on a woman I knew once, who was just as described here.  I often wonder what might have been...



...Then will I swear beauty herself is black
And all they foul that thy complexion lack.




Martha & Wonder Woman



I dated a girl named Jessica for a couple of years in college. She's been the subject of several of my stories. We finally broke up, but we'd been together so long that she and I had most of the same friends. 

She, my roommate, and some other mutual friends took a road trip to North Carolina only a week or so after we broke up. Jessica roomed in a large house with a bunch of other people, among them a good-looking gal named Martha who had tried to jump my bones several times when I was still dating Jessica. I politely rebuffed her advances then, but I did not forget them. 

So, there I was in my apartment alone watching The Rifleman on TV at 1:00 in the morning, bored. The female guest on the show reminded me of Martha, and that got me to thinking how sexy she was. I'd heard she was fantastic in bed, too. It was coming a hellacious electrical storm outside, but since I'd been sipping on a bottle of codeine cough medicine left in my medicine cabinet by Jessica, fortified by some beer, I threw caution to the wind, grabbed the remaining four Bud talls and some weed, donned a poncho, and walked through the driving rain over to Martha's. 

I figured if she wasn't there, someone would be and I'd share the beer and a doob with them. I was horny, for sure, but, extroverted and lonely, I was just craving human interaction more than anything else.

The front door was never locked, so I just came on in the dark entryway, like I always had. The usual lamp in the living room was on, but the place was otherwise dark and quiet as a tomb. I threw my wet poncho over the banister and trudged up the stairs to Martha's bedroom. Her door was ajar, and I tapped on it, announcing it was I. 

Wearing nothing but a football jersey, she opened the door, smiled, and said, "Hi, come on in."

Loopy from the codeine and beer and boredom, I quite uncharacteristically just blurted out, "Wanna get drunk and screw?" holding up the cans of beer. 

"Sure," she eagerly agreed, pulling the jersey off over her head to become completely naked. 

Having known her for a couple years as Jessica's roommate and hanging out at their house all the time, I'd seen Martha flash her tits and moon people many a time, and she never wore a bra beneath her tee-shirts. So, I had more than a pretty good idea of what her body looked like, which is to say, terrific.

But I'd never seen her totally nude like that. Although there were no lights on in her bedroom, it was the former "sleeping porch" in the old house--enclosed with windows on three sides--which let in plenty of light from the streetlight in the back yard. I could see her goodies quite clearly. Wow!

Martha was great looking, but had an extremely disproportionate figure, though in a very good way, to my eye. She was tall at about 5'9", had long slender legs, narrow hips, slim waist, shoulders, and arms, but cantaloupe-size boobs, pendulous, with big, dark brown nipples and areolas. Notwithstanding braces on her teeth, she had quite a pleasant face, too, with shoulder-length brown hair, and a naturally dark complexion. I have still never seen a woman with such large, natural breasts on such a slender frame. The fact that Jessica had little titties made Martha's big ones all the more appealing.

We downed a beer each as she untied the nearly infinite laces on my heavy hiking boots, peeled off my jeans and the rest of my clothes, and literally jumped on top of me, pinning me to her mattress like a wrestler. 

Martha started for the women's Rugby team, and this was a very competitive Division 1 college. Point is, despite her skinny build, she was extremely strong and aggressive. She kissed me and sucked me and ground her pussy on my face HARD, and left no doubt she was IN CHARGE. She rimmed my asshole, tongue-fucked it, then wiggled a long finger inside as she sucked my cock ALL the way down, ALL the back to the tip. She even spanked my butt cheeks, quite hard. Considering the considerable amount of opiated cough medicine I had consumed, this was exactly what I needed. 

We fucked and sucked and licked and spanked and finger-poked orifices for well over an hour, and I had about decided that I was just not going to cum due to the beer and cough syrup and the fact that she had a somewhat loose, though great-feeling, pussy. She was on top of me fucking cowgirl style when she reached down with her hand to swab my cock back and forth from her very wet pussy to her asshole. Turnabout being fair play, since she'd fingered my pooper while giving a blow-job earlier, I slipped my index finger up into her brown hole while lick-sucking her clit, and she liked it a lot, cumming big time. Even so, it was a very tight hole, even on one finger. 

Then she positioned the tip of my dick right on her pussy-juice-lubed back door and gradually yet fairly quickly worked it all the way in. It was obvious from the grimace on her face that it hurt, but she held it in place perfectly still for a bit, holding me stationary when I tried to thrust. However, within a few minutes she was riding it slowly, then faster and faster. Twiddling her twat as she did so, the painful countenance transformed into a look of extreme pleasure. 

I'd tried to screw Jessica in the butt, and she was really trying, but even when she was both drunk and luded out, I was never able to get more than the tippy-tip in before she'd back out. So Martha was the very first chick I ever fucked in the ass, and it was completely her doing! She came twice, the last time with a blood-curdling scream, and then, with a determined look, leaned back and grabbed my knees behind her. This enabled me to see my cock actually going in and out of her anus while looking at her large pussy lips wrinkling provocatively with each plunge. She was doing 90% of the "work," so those big ol' titties on her narrow chest were flopping in tandem all the way from her chin to the bottom of her rib cage with each thrust. 

I felt my seed slowly rising and she must have known I was getting close, for she increased the pace and rared forward to feed me her breasts. I forcefully squeezed them together, chewing both long, hard nipples at the same time. I was almost there.

Taking my face into both hands, she directed my head up, looked me straight in the eye, and whispered, "I want you to squirt a big load in my tight little butthole," then locked lips, plunged her tongue down my throat, and clamped down hard on my cock. 

Using her tits like handles, I up-and-downed her on my pistoning rod and blasted volley after volley after volley of man-juice into, until then, the forbidden hole. Best fucking orgasm I ever had, but I always say that.

You never forget your first piece of pussy. Well, you never forget your first butt-fuck, either. In fact, not just the anal part, but sex with Martha was some of the best I ever had. It's always nice to know the feeling is mutual, as while my cock was slowly deflating inside her ass, she said, "I figured you'd be damn good in bed, but I figured wrong. You're BETTER!"

Sweaty and thirsty, we disengaged and popped the tops on the two remaining Buds, drinking them and chatting while I recharged in anticipation of round two. A few minutes later, I heard footsteps running up the stairs. The door flew open, and, in one motion, the wet-haired girl stripped her tee-shirt off, showing her fine, super-firm tits, and kicked her shorts off to reveal a puffy pussy bare but for a thin landing strip, then dives nude into the bed with us. Her knee crunched into mine, as she apparently did not notice at first that I was there. 

"Who the hell is this?" she demanded. 

"Oh, you know Hornyman, Jessica's boyfriend," Martha explained.

"Ex-boyfriend," I corrected.

The new arrival I knew only by her nickname, Wonder Woman, as she was the spitting facial image of the hot actress Lindsey Wagner who played that role in the popular TV show of the same name. WW was also a starter on the Rugby team and roomed in a house across and down the street. A beauty in her own right, she was more muscular than the actress and in absolutely tip-top condition. 

She had an extremely athletic build, though feminine and not of the body-builder type, and was tough as nails. WW was drunk as Cooter Brown and loudly told the story of what had just happened at a nearby bar. 

Some guy had pinched her superb, muscular ass, and she duked him out cold with a single right uppercut. His friends tried to get hold of her, but she and a few of the other Rugby gals with her bloodied them all to the barroom floor and ran out just as the cops arrived. Outside, the girls split up and ran in different directions, but one of the cops chased WW through the rain up the hill to her rooming house, where she just ran straight through the downstairs hall out the back door, then cut down the alley, crossed the street, and ducked into Martha's, losing the cop. 

WW was so hyped up telling the story that it was truly exciting, and knowing her, I didn't doubt a word of it. 

WW and Martha's legs were against each other, and WW's forearm repeatedly jounced into Martha's wobbling boob as she gesticulated wildly telling the story. WW having finished the story and literally panting, there was suddenly a stony silence. 

OK, I'm fucked up as hell, in bed with no less than two sexy naked babes I'm now 90% sure are bisexual, feel a twitch of life in my cock, and feeling pretty confident. Hey, the direct approach just worked with Martha, so I said, "Wonder Woman, I'd love to eat your pussy." 

"What did you say, you skinny mother-fucking egghead?!" WW screamed. 

Yes, I was thin and a top student, but this was definitely no compliment.

"I think you better go now," Martha instructed, so I got up and tried to quickly get re-dressed. 

"NOW!" WW barked, so I just gathered up my clothes and boots and made a hasty exit. As I descended the dark stairway, I could hear them sensuously laughing. Sounded like Martha would be the one eating WW's pussy, not me. 

As if that had not been a sufficient jolt of reality, when I got to the foot of the stairs in nothing but my tighty whities, there stood Beth, Jessica's roommate and best friend, standing at the door, glaring at me with a look that could fry bacon. 

She scolded, "So you can't even wait a week after you dump your 'beloved' Jessica to sneak into her house and fuck her roommate Martha and Wonder Woman, loud enough no less to be heard clear downtown!!!" 

I realized then that Beth had not been among the friends who had gone on the road trip with Jessica, and that Beth must have heard my wild romp with Martha, as her bedroom shared a wall with Beth's upstairs. In fact, Martha's open closet, which backed up to a thin board that separated it from Beth's bedroom closet, had afforded Beth a blow-by-blow earful of everything that had happened up there. 

There was really no point in trying to make my case with Beth or refute that group sex had taken place, even though, unfortunately, it had not, so I just got my clothes back on and sat on the bottom stair step as she paced back and forth, giving me the third degree. As she did so, she chain-smoked one after another Benson & Hedges 100s, so I rolled a joint and fired it up, mocking the way she held and puffed her cig, and said nothing while she continued the verbal barrage for the next half hour. 

Finally, maintaining that I had committed a dastardly act of revenge-fucking, she, the alpha-female of the house, declared that I was banned forever, and was, suddenly and uncharacteristically, out of words. I swear to you, sex with Martha had nothing to do with vengeance, but there was no point in trying to argue the merits of that with Beth. The silence was broken by a medley of giggles and moans emanating from upstairs. I'm not 100% certain Martha and Wonder Woman were having sex, but it sure sounded like that's what was going on. 

Beth was grimacing and her eyes were cast in that direction like two laser beams. "Perhaps you should go up there and straighten those two out," I softly suggested as I slung the poncho over my shoulder and left. 

It had stopped raining, and I cut through Wonder Woman's back yard to take a short cut back to my apartment. I hopped over the back fence onto the pavement of the large hospital parking lot, where I saw a police officer with his flashlight up ahead. He made a beeline for me. Though I was wasted, I figured the best thing to do was not run and just deal with him. 

Officer: "Excuse me, but we're looking for a woman, a tall, athletic brunette, about 20, with blue eyes wearing a white shirt and blue shorts who was in this area." 

Me: "What seems to be the problem, officer?" 

Officer: "She is very dangerous and violent. She assaulted a group of male students inside Sam and Andy's, and all six of them are hospitalized." 

Me: "Really? Put six guys in the ER? Sounds like a real Wonder Woman." 

Officer: "Interesting you should say that. She is described as looking remarkably like the actress who plays Wonder Woman. I was in pursuit when she ran into that house and out the back door, the same house from whose back yard you just came. That's where she gave me the slip, and I thought you might be her at first." 

Me: "Well, how flattering, officer, but, being male and all, I think I more resemble the Six Million Dollar Man. Tell me, was this woman bra-less, wearing a rain-soaked, white tee-shirt that showed her prominent nipples, and tight, royal blue rugby shorts hugging a muscular ass, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail?" 

Officer: "Yes, exactly. Have you seen her?" 

Me: "Oh, forgive me. I was just picturing how I would LIKE to see her. Well, it's late, and I've got to hit the hay. Good luck finding your Wonder Woman. Call Charlie's Angels; maybe they can help."



Martha, Dearest Martha



[©2011 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18 WITH IDENTITIES DISGUISED; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]

[Martha's dear husband married her for money, but that was 20 years ago. Just how much sex could he find in a loveless marriage?]

*

Where to begin? My name is Peter. I was living with Martha, my heiress wife, in Pecan Stream, just to the east of San Francisco. Known as the East Bay, it was the home for some of the nastiest people on earth. 

Pecan Stream was particularly vituperative, a fall-out shelter for heiresses, divorcees, and over-controlling wives. No man lived there with a 'set' still intact...except, of course, for yours truly.

I had married Martha exactly 20 years before. I was 35; she was 40, never before married. Even then, she was controlling, judgmental, and asexual. She insisted on wearing almost nurse's uniforms, with thick dresses, opaque heavy hosiery, and sturdy, square, nurse's shoes. Just thinking about that, it was no surprise that she was still available at 40. 

I for my part had bounced from job to job, college to college, never amounting to much. Then I heard about this burgh (Pecan Stream.) Could six months of workouts and tanning booth time make up for a lifetime of sloth and foolishness? Does a bear do his business in the woods?

Well, it was our 20th anniversary. Twenty damn years, with little to no fun and even less sex. It was a tradition of ours to go to the beach attached to one of San Francisco's parks on our anniversary. Martha if anything was a creature of habit. 

So here we were; Martha wore her usual nineteenth century swimsuit, which covered her down to the wrists and below the ankles. I for my part would wear Speedos, which always engendered questions from dear Martha. ("how can you be comfortable in something that tight?", "aren't you kind of old to be wearing those?" etc. etc.) 

There we were, looking like a couple at the beach in one of those Impressionist paintings. Martha as always would cover her eyes under black plastic shades and sleep. I would scope out the beach in a pathetic attempt to see a friendly smile or anything that led to 'action'.

Well, for once it happened. Not far from us, this 18 year old hard body babe was wrestling with her skin-head boyfriend. I think it was over the last beer or something. I looked around for the life guard. It was late in the season and the city had cut back on payroll, so no life guard. 

It looked like a job for a Good Samaritan. Quietly getting up, lest I awaken the sleeping 'Beauty', I ran over to the scuffling couple. Lifting him by the shoulder, I gave him an unwelcome lecture.

Me: "That's no way to treat a fine lady like this...apologize or get lost, punk."

He looked at me in amazement. Normally, his bald head and tattoos around the neck and arms would be enough to scare off my type. Contemptuously, he reared back to hit me. It was sheer luck that I fended off his blow, grabbed his wrist, and gave it a twist. He apologized meekly and ran off.

Of course, his trampy 18 year old girl friend had been watching all of this. She was wearing a microscopic string thong bikini that could have been drawn on her with a Bic pen. She was tanned, slim, with not the slightest indication of a spare ounce of fat. Her perfect little form was only marked by a blue flower tattoo on her right ankle and one that was right at the bikini line. Holding the last Coors Light, she breathed heavily, as did I.

Heather: "I don't know who you are and why you helped me when no one else ever has, but thanks, man. You're kinda old, like my dad. But, I don't know, do you want to see my favorite spot at this beach?"

Still breathing hard from the fight, I nodded. She took my hand and led me to this hollow behind the seawall. She was only about five feet tall, with a girlish figure. Her smooth, tanned legs and delicate little feet were a sexy sight, but even better were her tight buns. 

She had the smallest, hardest bum I had ever seen, and it wiggled just so as she led me away. If she looked back, she would've seen my Speedos expanding as a thin tube expanded to the size of a ten inch log.

Heather: "Well, what do you think? Privacy in the middle of a public park! Now, daddy, let me reward my big handsome pa pa for saving his little girl."

In seconds, she was out of that tiny bikini. Then her surprisingly powerful hands pushed my Speedos down. When my erect ten inch cock sprung out and up, she almost fainted. 

Heather: "My God, dude. That wimpy boyfriend of mine was three inches on a good night. You are much more man than him! No wonder you won that fight! Muscles, cock, and these heavy family jewels...what a man!"

Sure enough, my balls were swollen. So many months with no release, so much pent-up passion. Here I was being serviced by a nymph, a young woman who was legally 18 but could have passed for, well, a lesser age. At the moment, my huge Johnson just wanted in. As her skilled hands went to work, it took a tremendous effort NOT to cum instantly. I had better plans for that stuff, though.

Me: "Heather, you ARE 18, aren't you?" [She nodded. I asked her what year she was born in--then she reached into her beach bag and flashed her license. That was good enough for me.] 

Me: "Are you on the pill? Do you use a diaphragm or IUD?"

Heather: "God, you sound like my boyfriend! Don't worry, I have a diaphragm."

To her amazement, I wasn't like her boyfriend. 

Me: "Well, TAKE IT OUT! If you want to feel this long, thick cock, scraping the walls of your pussy, stroking, dragging, touching you in all the right places, I have to have that damned thing out. Don't ask why, just do it!"

She turned away from me and bent over, struggling to reach inside of herself. With a sigh of relief, she got it out. Then, she turned towards me. There she was, lithe, nubile, petite, tanned, like being able to watch woman's gymnastics on TV and getting to ball one of those hard bodies. Momma like!

Being tanned as she was, her whole body seemed to radiate heat. I sat on one of the rocks that made up the seawall and let her sit on top of me. That tiny miss sat perfectly centered above my huge cock. Then, in an odd way, she hopped on top of it, slowly slipping down my mighty staff as it penetrated her fully and totally. Her head looked to the sky as she slowly settled down to my thighs, somehow taking my ten inch length inside of her.

I put my hands around her steel-hard behind but let her own fuck power determine the tempo of our lovemaking. God, what a bedroom athlete! She moved with unbelievable speed and power. When I could take no more, one of my hands clutched her to me fiercely, while the other summoned her to my lips for a French kiss. As our tongues played, my cockhead was inside a rubbery fold of her deepest recesses. 

Married to Martha, I wasn't sure what that was, but I figured it might be a good place to spew. Sure enough, my uncut cockhead swelled, my swollen testes pulled tight against me, and I cut loose with six solid jets of potent seed. 

My cum was as thick as mashed potatoes, laden with vibrant sperm. It inundated her fertile womb, searching that young innocent miss for her precious ovum. As we both sank into the sand, utterly exhausted, millions of my baby-makers had, by chance, bumped into her egg and even now four were struggling to attach themselves. 

Heather was out like a light, breathing hard and unable to move. I for my part had just enough energy to re-dress myself and her. I fell to the sand to catch a few moments next to her. Just then, she sprang up.

Heather: "God, I just remembered. We did it without my diaphragm. This is my most fertile day of the month. I have to get into the water and try and clean myself out."

To her amazement, I grabbed her by the ankle, tripping her back down to the sand where I was. Having just vented all of my love into her, I was not in the mood to have the essence of my love dumped into the damn ocean. She struggled ever so slightly as I started to kiss her. Then, she melted in my arms as we made out. She went back to sleep. 

My mission was accomplished. I wrapped her in her own beach towel, kissed her on the cheek, and whispered: "Have my baby." After I left, the drama within her ended. My four 'guys' alighted on her ovum, made themselves comfortable, and made the miracle of nature occur when it was attached to her inner walls. That 18 year old teeny-bopper had conceived; she was going to be quite a sexy little mommy.

When I got back to the beach umbrella covered towel, I was relieved to see Martha there, still sleeping. I should've noticed that her breathing was very fast, as if she had just been running or something, but I didn't.

We got back to Pecan Stream in time for the debut of this year's synchronized swimming team. Pecan Stream, being a woman's city, was big into that. The Pecan Stream ArgoNuts was a collection of girls and women, from 18 to 45. I'm not saying they were all lesbo's, but they all were certainly hostile to the average man, in the finest Pecan Stream tradition. 

So, here we were in my own living room, the only real man to be found within miles. The eight ArgoNuts were presenting their newest costumes for the new competition year, butternut with silver and gold metallic flakes. Those suits were smoking hot! Strange that they purported to hate men but wore costumes that would make any man sink to his knees in quiet awe. 

I had a devil of a time keeping my big cock down as I espied these incredibly fit women wearing close to nothing. There was a lot of vitriol, as the ArgoNuts fulminated about having to wear these get-ups just to please the male judges (those damn men!) Then, there was a little change of plans.

Adele, a 30 year old unmarried woman, and the leader of the ArgoNuts, had been driven over today, her car being in the shop. She needed a ride home, back across the Bay to San Francisco. Martha ordered me to take her...well, orders are orders.

To my surprise, Adele wore the swimmer's outfit in my car. The tight outfits took a long time to put on or take off, so she didn't bother changing. As we drove, I noticed that she was staring out the window, as far from me as she could turn. 

Okay, I thought, that just gave me license to take a gander. God, those shapely legs, utterly exposed under that aqua-maid costume. She had just had a bikini wax, I guessed, and those thighs were so damn smooth. All of a sudden, she turned around and gave me an icy stare. 

Gretchen: "Just drive, Mr. Gigolo! Don't think that the ladies of Pecan Stream haven't figured you out...you're just married to Martha for the money, a typically shallow, gold-digging man. Well, this is one lady who doesn't put up with any of your chauvinistic crap. So, eyes front!" [As I turned to watch the road, she smiled in triumph. She lifted her bare smooth feet from my car's carpet and curled them beneath her. Then she turned back to looking out her side window away from me.]

Now her perfect legs and gorgeous little feet were within inches of me. Could I resist? Of course not! My hand meandered over to her side and 'accidentally' stroked the length of her creamy thighs, shapely legs, and her demure smooth feet. She sat bolt upright and grabbed me by the shirt collar. I was going 68 and she was trying to slug me.

First things first, I had to stop. In California, they have something called 'runaway truck' ramps; if you were navigating hills and your heavy vehicle lost braking, you could go onto this exit's ramp and stop because it was all uphill. Well, we were getting out of control, so I went off the highway and up the ramp. We stopped easily. 

The ordeal was so scary that Adele was seated in her bucket seat breathing heavily. I was excited too, but took the opportunity to use the seat controls by the driver, reclining both seats. 

Adele: "What!? What the fuck are you doing??" [She proceeded to slap me...hard! She kept that up as I undressed her, then myself. Mind you, she didn't leave, she didn't scratch, she didn't wrestle....she just slapped. Her slaps got slower and lighter as I prepared to mount her. When my oversized cockhead just grazed against the slavering wet lips of her pussy, her slaps stopped. Tears emerged from her eyes. She murmured:]

Adele: "So long, it's been so very very long. Please, be gentle. The last man that did me was so hard, so unpleasant, so unloving, I never wanted to see another. He left me with child, making me undo his damage. I never got over that."

That stopped me in my tracks. I was going to gently force myself upon her, guessing (correctly) that she really wanted it. But, hearing that, I stopped.

Me: "Adele, I want to make love to you. I don't want to rape you, vanquish you, or even 'fuck' you. I want to make LOVE to you. May I please...give me a chance."

More tears came to her eyes. We kissed tenderly and with lingering contact. I lovingly nuzzled against her, washing her mouth, nose, and ears with my tongue. Putting my warm breath into her ears, I awaited her decision.

She answered by kissing me. I took that as a 'yes' and proceeded to resume my entrance into her fertile depths. My long ten incher was extended into her, dragging its uncut cockhead against the sensitive and long neglected vaginal walls. When I hit bottom, she lurched, then moaned in pleasure. 

More tears emerged and she locked her lips on mine. We both hugged, but she did so with fierce determination. Pressing herself hard against me, I had no choice, no option, but to vent my passion within her deepest, warmest, recesses. 

I didn't know, or care, about what, if any, protection she was using. As far as I was concerned, this was a totally unprotected, fertile womb. This unhappily single 30 year old had feared men all of these years. 

Well, here was one who could love, and he was about to give her a free 'car wash' with extra thick, creamy, wax. Sure enough, the thick creamy foam was sent thru my ten inch long pipe and emptied into her secret woman's place. Shot after shot, spray after spray, squirt after squirt. Our lips were locked, and her moans were at the scream volume. Then, as quickly as this whole thing started, it stopped. 

I rolled off her and went back into my bucket seat. She remained on the reclined seatback, her cunt oozing out my potent seed. It would continue to do so as I drove her across the Bay Bridge and back to her stylish home near Haight-Ashbury. Though she was exhausted, she found time to have a drink with her two gay neighbors at the local lesbian bar. Ironically as they all drank toasts about how horrible men were, Adele conceived.

When I got home, Martha was there, the other guests long since gone.

Martha: "So how was it...I mean you and Adele. No, don't look surprised. I know you—and I know her. I've known for years that you wanted to get some 'action'. It was only recently that I realized that I wanted you to have some action too, as long as I could watch or at least get a play-by-play. Let me tell you, Adele told me everything and didn't spare the details. She said you are so big, so incredibly well-hung, that she thinks you got her pregnant. Is that what you were trying for, to knock up my dear friend? The truth now!" [I bent my head and nodded.]

Martha: "Don't look so downcast! I said that I knew and it didn't bother me. In fact I want you to have adventures...it's about the only fun and excitement I can have these days. From now on, I will control your sexy exploits. That way I can know where you are, what you're doing, and get my fun from that."

In the strangest twist in history, instead of being turned on by this kinky turn, I was appalled. The idea of 'performing' like a trained seal for my stubby 60 year old wife was insulting. Instead of leaping at the chance to have tryst after tryst under the watchful and approving eye of my beloved Martha, I said:

Me: "If I know you planned, approved, and enjoyed my 'handiwork', it would change that from fun to work. That's just too weird...I'm sorry. I'd rather be celibate than to perform like a circus act for you or any of your friends."

Well, that killed that. There was no mention of the subject and my sexual adventures came to an abrupt end. Weeks passed. The only interesting events were when Heather and later Adele called. Both of them had bought a home pregnancy test out of curiosity and both had blue results. I had to admit I was delighted, not so much that I had gotten them pregnant but that they were going to give birth. 

Adele for her part had health insurance at work and was not out one cent for the miracle of life bestowed upon her. Heather was just an 18 year old runaway. I asked Martha if we couldn't send her something. She said no. Well, Martha would pay ME an allowance and I started sending it to Heather...she was so needful and grateful.

It was the week before Christmas. The Bay area has the most remarkable weather, the best in the continental US. It was mid-December but a perfect 71 degrees. 

Martha informed me that she was mindful that I still had a chiseled, steel hard body at 55, whereas she was Rosie O'Donnell stout. To counter that, she hired a local area housewife who moonlighted at night as a 'personal trainer'. I could watch the proceedings if I wanted to. I don't know why I stayed to watch when the Oakland Raiders were playing on Monday Night football, but I did.

Ingrid showed up. She was surprised to see me, saying she hadn't expected a man to be present. She went into the bathroom and emerged in her workout togs, a head-to-toe bodysuit out of 100% nylon, fireproof, man-proof, shapeless, formless. As she led my sweating little porker (Martha) thru the exercises to the sound of elevator music, I actually nodded off.

I awoke to find that she had gone and Martha had showered and was ready for bed. What a boring interlude; and for this I missed the Raiders?

The next week, Ingrid came back. Funny thing, though; like many women, she understood her audience. At the 1st meeting, she hadn't expected any men. She had dressed the way the loveless dour women of Pecan Stream wanted her to dress, in an androgynous get-up. But today, knowing that there might be male eyes staring, Ingrid was ready.

When she emerged from the bathroom on the 2nd exercise night, WOW! This unmarried MILF was wearing a pink gauzy leotard. Her curly forest of hair 'down there' was clearly on display, as were her pouting nipples. Those wonderful things were angry, irritated by the rough leotard material. 

Whereas she was covered from head to toe before in rigid body armor, tonight her gorgeous legs were exposed, tanned, shapely, and perfect. The leotard had high cutouts, some twelve inches above her puss. Her exquisitely pedicured feet were as sexy as any other part of her and only highlighted her unbelievable sex appeal. In spite of my best efforts, my cock twitched, throbbed, and then pumped to iron hardness. I was ready...God, I wanted to ball! 

My self-control was not helped when she did some of the hottest sexercises I had ever seen. Like that hottie Denise Austin from years back, she would get on her back, legs up, feet drawn. As she breathed in and out, it looked like she was blowing me a kiss. 

God, I just wanted to climb on board her, Martha or no Martha! Then I noticed that Martha was staring at me...was this whole thing just a ploy to get me to 'perform for her'. Well, I thought it was. God only knows why that should matter, but some part of me rebelled and said no. I left, conflicted, uncertain as to whether I had passed up a golden opportunity.

The next week, Ingrid brought her new borne baby along. When Ingrid knew she was pregnant, her longtime boyfriend showed his true nature by leaving her. She chose to have the baby and here it was. 

Right in the middle of the session, Martha remembered that she had to get some refreshments for the after-workout little party she always had. Could I entertain Ingrid while she zoomed to Safeway? It would only be about an hour. I said yes.




Martha, Dearest Martha



Talk about uncomfortable. Here I was with my wife's personal trainer, alone for at least an hour. I was holding her new borne, a mulatto baby that raised a myriad of questions, none of which I asked. I would never forget the next few moments.

Sitting on the couch, holding the baby, Ingrid sat hard against me. She then lowered the right side of her pink gauzy leotard, exposing the most beautiful breast I had ever seen. Warm, sexy, motherly, the big boob had the most interesting green, red, and blue touches of color on it. The big brown nipple looked so suckable. She gestured for me to give her the baby.

Ingrid: "No, don't hand him to me...bring him to breast."

Startled momentarily, I held up that deceptively heavy baby and extended my arms to put him in range of that out-pointing nipple. My mouth watered...God, I'd love to be that lucky baby!! Ingrid put her pinky into the side of his mouth, making him gape. Then she pushed him firmly against that nipple, the brown milk nozzle securely entering. 

Nature took over, and with a smash of his tongue and draw of his lips, that warm, sweet mother's milk starting dripping, draining, spraying down his throat, sating his little belly with nourishment. I'm ashamed to admit that as I watched this beautiful and innocent scene, I got rock hard.

After what seemed like hours, she told me to put the baby back into his traveling carrier. I did and he went to sleep instantly. 

Me: "Tell me, did you stop because he stops drinking or because you ran dry?"

Ingrid: "Oh, because he stopped drinking. I still have PLENTY of delicious breastmilk. In fact, if you want, you can help me drain it. My fingers get tired, leaning over the sink, spraying it down the drain."

Me: "You waste that stuff down the drain?"

Ingrid: "I do when I don't have my pump and spare bottles. How else could it be used? I mean, WHO WOULD WANT TO DRINK MOUTHFULS OF MILK THAT TASTED LIKE MELTED DOVE BARS, WARM, SWEET, ALMOST INTOXICATING. I KNOW, IT'S SAID THAT SOME MEN BECOME ADDICTED TO IT; THAT IT ACTS LIKE AN APHRODISIAC; THAT IT TRIPLES A MAN'S POTENCY; THAT IT MAKES SOME MEN BECOME ANIMALS, FORCING THEM TO BREED WITH INSANE FEROCITY. BUT THAT'S ONLY WIVES' TALES."

About halfway thru her speech, I had gotten up. By the end of it, I had stood her up and was ripping that leotard to shreds. My mouth fastened on her nipple, which was naturally erect from nursing. She molded my hair and stroked me gently as I suckled noisily, greedily. 

As I finished one perfect breast and moved for the second, she had a little fun by pretending to stop me. Gently, firmly, then powerfully, I brushed her aside and fastened on to that 2nd big nipple. The thumb-like protuberance occupied my whole mouth as warm splashes of flavor and contentment kept engulfing my mouth, tongue, and throat. It was overwhelming.

With a noisy gulp, I finished the last mouthful and stood up. Breathing heavily, I looked at this 40-ish soccer mom MILF. 

Me: "Wives' tales or not, that milk DID get me hard. It DID make me want you, what to breed you. So help me God, I am going to fuck the shit out of you, and get you pregnant. This time, it will be MY baby. Get on your back NOW...bitch!"

Ingrid acted as if this was a shock; of course, her scripted words were aimed to make this happen. She finally got flat on her back, her expensive pink leotard a distant memory. I flexed my muscles in manly triumph and mounted that middle aged sexpot.  

Talk about weird. She was in her 40's and about the age of the first older woman I ever desired, due to the fact that woman lived with me and tucked me in at night (ahem...) The weird part was that my fantasy woman was still in her 40's whereas I was now much older than that.

Although I hinted darkly that I wanted to breed her mindlessly hard, I stopped that assault before it started. Putting her on her side facing me, I handed her my long ten inch cock.

Me: "Sweetheart, use that as you will. There are probably parts of you that need attention that I would never think of. Have a good time and only return it when you've run out of ideas."

She was so touched by my selflessness that she bent forward and kissed me. She then took my powerful man tool. It took both of her hands to manipulate it, with difficulty. 

First she plowed back and forth across the welcoming maw of her tingling pussy. Her clitoris got a lengthy visit. Then her hyper-sensitive depths got a rubdown back and forth for 10 long minutes. Finally, she removed her hands, leaving me deep inside of her. My cockhead was not far from her uterus. She whispered for me to breed her, give her a baby, MY baby.

Well, she didn't have to run a full-page ad in the San Francisco Chronicle. I got the idea. I pumped her a few times for effect (I was ready to spew without any further doings.) 

Finally, my lengthy manhood swelled with power and virility; my huge bloated sperm reservoirs expanded to the size of birthday balloons before a tremendous ripple ran thru them. All of that sperm-laden cum, my potent seed, was rocketed out, racing the length of my giant cock, and propelled with frightening force and power into the unprotected and oh so very fertile womb of this supersexy mommy. 

This was surely the sexiest moment of my life as I came back to earth, gasping for air. It was then and only then that I realized that Martha was watching us. When I say watching, I mean she was within a foot of us as we both recovered.

Well, she had gotten her way in the end, and I couldn't be happier. Martha got to watch me service her friend, pump my seed with almost blind desperation, and put her back in 'the family way'. 

As for her friend Adele, she was true to her word and carried my baby to term, giving birth. For gay women in the Bay area, having children out of wedlock, without even a male companion, was not at all unusual. She and her baby were very happy and she had no money needs or demands.

As for Heather, she had called me about a month after our 'get together', telling me that she was pregnant. I was delighted and sent her as much as I could, as I said before. Well, her bald skinhead punk boyfriend tried to re-enter her life, even threatening to do things to [our] four babies. 

Me: "Martha, you said that you enjoyed the idea of me having 'action' as long as you weren't left out of the loop. Well, Heather is being threatened by some real low-life, and I'd appreciate it if we could put her up in our guest room. [She smiled and nodded.] Am I correct that you wouldn't mind if we occasionally spent time together, just Heather and me, as long as you could watch live or on tape?"

Martha smiled and kissed me on the cheek (as passionate as she got.) I guess that was a yes...awesome, dude, I would now have a live-in slut of my own. 

Well, so this story ends, happily. Heather was surprised—no, amazed—that Martha put up with our shenanigans. As our babies slept in the nearby room, the three of us would have a formal supper. But, if the spirit moved her, right during dinner service, Heather would go under that long mahogany dining table and proceed to go down on me! 

Afterwards, she would walk right up to Martha and defiantly drool out a torrent of my cum, dripping out her entire mouth. One time we tested her by just doing it at the dinner table. First with me seated, Heather went up and down like a jack in the box, right before we moaned in unison. I filled her fertile belly with an ocean of baby batter. 

The next night I put her on the dining room table, pushing my place setting aside, and proceeding to pump MORE sperm into her fertile womb. Sure enough, the hotter and more daring we got, the hotter and more interested Martha seemed to get.

True to her word, Martha enjoyed her vicarious thrills as she found them. Even when we went to the local hospital where we all were well known, Martha had no problems with me holding Heather's hand. I did so as she gave birth to our fifth thru tenth babies as she, Martha, stood there too. The nurses figured out the relationship, which raised more than a few eyebrows. 

Well, that was the whole story. I had married for money and spent years in solemn boredom. Then, I happened to find a saucy wench that brought back the man in me. I did her, some of my wife's friends, and ended up with a live-in concubine to beat the band. 

After my wife passed on, I was 'stuck' with a big home, a Mercedes model S450, a houseful of children, and all the money we could eat. Martha's last words were that she really enjoyed my antics; it was the only fun she really had. She just wished that I could have shown ALL of those snooty ArgoNuts what for by putting them ALL in the family way. 

Well, it was a hard job, but SOMEONE had to do it. Besides, I jokingly pledged to Martha that I would at least try. Sure enough, the next year's competition season was cancelled for the ArgoNuts. With Adele's introductions, I had emceed their off-season get together, sneaking off with every single one of those saucy wenches. 

Being competitive swimmers, they were in fantastic shape. Whatever their feelings toward men and marriage, they could really put out. They made love with such ferocity and horsepower that it was a wonder that I had the strength left to cum. But, somehow I did, and each aquatic miss left me with a sperm-filled cunt. 

Later, they had to call off the season because it would've been hard for the ArgoNuts to do synchronized swimming sporting swollen bellies. All the maidens, from 18 to 48, were put in the family way by yours truly, fulfilling my humorous pledge to Martha. The fact that three were married didn't seem to bother them, or me.

I guess I showed Pecan Stream what just one real man could do.



Martha, Dylan and Me



This is a story about my boyfriend's mother and me, just as much as it is a story about how I became who I am, a bisexual who loves BDSM. Well, in truth I am probably a hetero girl who likes other girls, who likes to play with them and likes them to play with me. In truth I like men, I like their bodies, their hard penises and the things that they do to me. But for now, this is a story of how I discovered the glory of soft curves, of a woman's touch, of her silky places and how I came to enjoy and even look forward to being seduced by other women.

*

When summer came Dylan's mother invited me to holiday with her in the Mediterranean. I thought that it was a great idea, assuming that I would be spending most of my time with Dylan. But Dylan was not invited. I waited at the station but Dylan never came. When I declared that Dylan was going to miss the train Martha, Dylan's Mother told me he wasn't coming, that it was just us, a holiday for us girls. I was a little shocked. But I didn't disembark, I just stood by the door looking out through the little window as normality passed me by. I didn't know it then, but I was going on a journey that would change me forever. 

I was on my way to Greece with my boyfriend's mother. For me the entire venture was straight forward enough, safe, however, I never knew that Martha was a complete sexual deviant. Later I found out that she gave Byron his first head job as an eighteenth birthday present and that was just the start, Martha had no limits.

We had only just surfaced in France when Martha introduced the topic that they would be bound to for the remainder of their holiday. Sex and sexual fulfillment, the things that a young women needed to know about men and about themselves before they committed to marriage. At first I feared the onset of an arcane sex talk, something guaranteed to ruin my vacation. Little did I know that Martha had experienced virtually every sexual activity imaginable, enjoyed sex daily and more importantly believed that sex was the gateway to eternal happiness. 

The train ambled through the mountains, swaying gently as Martha asked me to describe my sexual experience. I could feel the heat rise in my face as my embarrassment overcame me. Martha smiled and said, 

'I assume that you are a virgin. Am I correct?'

'Well I don't think that...' I tried to avoid answering without being rude.

'Am I correct?' Martha's directness was underlined with a stern tone.

'Yes... Yes I am.' Was all I could say.

'It is unusual for a girl your age, but it is all the better for you. There is nothing worse for a healthy sex life than developing bad habits, getting used to lazy, lay back sex or learning to be satisfied with less than wonderful erotic adventures.'

I was so embarrassed, I just sat there with my knees together, my hands in my lap and my eyes lowered.

'Oh, come now, don't be shy girl. There is only one thing better than being a virgin, and that is being sexually emancipated, free to enjoy everything that your body and your partner's body has to offer. And believe me anything less than sexual satisfaction should be considered a crime against our humanity.'

I had always been interested in sex. I had peeked into the showers once or twice when we were at camp, and even looked at some blue movies, but Martha was Dylan's mother. If she was closer to my age, like an older sister maybe I would have been happy to chat but this just seemed wrong. 

To my surprise I started to feel more relaxed. Martha started telling me about a boy she knew when she was sixteen, how he was madly in love with her, how she flirted with him and how she made him wait. Martha told me how when her eighteenth birthday came round she took him by the hand and raced round to a little shed behind the barn. She told me how fast her heart was beating, how she could hardly breath, how she pushed the young man to his knees, lay back opened her legs and pressed his sweet face in between her legs. She said it still made her pussy tingle to think of how he licked her, how from licking her virgin sex he came in his pants. She never told me his name or that he was her brother. She never told me that she went into his room every night and squatted over his face so that he could kiss her goodnight, or that he was only ever allowed to tough her with his mouth. Had she have told me I would have ran, ran away as fast as I could, but she didn't tell me. The way she told the story it was so sweet, the coming of age and the innocence in which she became a woman. 

That days were long and the stories incredible. Martha told me how she found another young man willing to masturbate in front of her as long as she let him look at her pussy. Ropes of thick white cum spurted from his penis as Martha watched. But soon he wanted more, so she refused to see him outside church. Still he tried. So Martha made a new contract, if he could make himself come while sitting in church, so that his cum squirted onto the floor she would let him slide his hand down between her legs, feel her wetness and even tweak her clitoris, but he was not allowed to force his fingers up into her vagina. Sunday morning, the church was half empty. They say in the back row and he rubbed himself. Martha said she drew her skirt up high on her thighs as encouragement, that she never showed him her pussy until after he shot his load. 

'At first,' she said, 'it was nice. His hand cupped my body so perfectly, his fingers slid up and down and my wetness covered him, but then he pushed his middle finger into my vagina. Not very far, but enough for me to note his intrusion. I stood up, pushing him away. I caused a bit of a commotion. Everyone knew that he had done something. I never entertained him again.' Martha's voice was resolute, but tinged ever so slightly with regret.

Martha's ability to talk about fooling about with all of those men as though it was good and natural, that it was everyday, right and proper, made me feel more at home with the topic. Eventually I risked a question.

'So did it hurt, your first time?'

'Yes it did as a matter of fact, but I don't remember it for that. I remember the incredible orgasm that followed the pain. My partner was very experienced, he knew just what to do. I was so aroused that when I impaled myself on his penis I just started to come. It was something to remember.'

All of a sudden it dawned on me, this is why Dylan hadn't been invited. Martha wanted to tell me things that she could not say in front of her son. Little did I know that the reason she couldn't say those things with Dylan present is that she thought it would have been to embarrassing for me, not that she would have been embarrassed. Once I got over the shock, Martha's sex talk was quite entertaining, and often very comical. One thing was for sure the holiday was going to be an education whether I wanted one or not.

Together we were jostled to and fro as trains changed tracks, as we changed trains and eventually resorted to a taxi. The house was perched high on a hill overlooking the water, the grounds were surrounded by a high wall, the only entrance was guarded by heavy iron gates. It was an impressive place, that was for sure. The gates opened the taxi drove in. No sooner had we removed our luggage than a young woman appeared dressed in black, wearing a white apron and the taxi disappeared through the gates. She invited us into a small sitting room while the porter took our luggage to our respective rooms. After taking drinks the maid escorted us to our rooms. In all my life I had never seen such a lavish room, it had a massive carved timber bed with mother of pearl inlay, chairs and writing desk to match. The fireplace was enormous, as was the mirror that stood over the marble mantle. Angels looked down from the corners of the ceiling, each with a bow and arrow. It was a romantic room by any account. 

I walked to the window, which was in fact a pair of doors that opened onto a small wrought iron balcony. As I opened the doors I could see more than a dozen young women sun bathing by a rectangular pool. They were completely naked, and to my surprise many of them had no pubic hair at all. What kind of place is this? I wondered as I stood and looked out at the naked beauties. Well that would explain the high walls, I concluded as Martha entered my room. 'So what do you think?' Martha enquired.

'Interesting scenery,' I observed.

Martha approached the opening, stood beside me and looked out at the naked girls soaking up the sun. 

'Oh the sun is so good here,' she said, 'we'll be sure to get a nice tan before we go home.'

I must say I was a little shocked, but didn't know why. The conversation on the train should have prepared me for just about anything. 

'Are there any men here?' I dared ask.

'Oh never, its just us girls, you have nothing to fear other than being seen in your birthday suit.' Martha smiled at my apparent nervousness. 'Besides with a lovely body like yours, you should be happy to show off. I was beautiful once but never really enjoyed it as much as I should have. Anyway, while you're here you're a stranger to everyone. No last names, or even first names if it makes you feel better. Either way no one will ever tell tales about you.'

When I thought about it I was sure that no-one would really care about another naked stranger, but I didn't understand why I should go naked in the first place. I never really thought about it before. 

Martha returned to her room allowing me to take a shower in peace. The hot water caressed my tired body. As I stood and enjoyed the soap and the steam I was feeling kind of sexy, as though I had permission. I confess that my hands lingered in places that they would normally have brushed over. But it felt so nice. My nipples were tingling, almost too intense to touch but amazing at the same time. And Between my legs felt so different. My labia was swollen, puffy and sensitive. I had never felt myself like that before and the slick wetness, it was like thick syrup, slippery and pungent to the smell. I wasn't really masturbating, just exploring the sensations. Anyway my meditation was disturbed by a maid who came into the bathroom, gathered up all of my clothes and replaced them with a robe. 

I washed my hair and shaved my underarms before turning my attention to my bikini line. I had brought a new bikini and had a wax before I left. I used that warm wax you heat in the microwave oven. I just didn't want a bunch of pubic hairs sticking out the sides, that's all. I still had hair down the sides of my vulva, right down between my legs and I never even tried to wax around my anus. I wasn't concerned about the small patch of hair, but it was still quite bushy. I thought that I should probably give myself a bit of a trim just incase I was expected to go naked. After getting out of the shower and drying off I took a small pair of scissors from her toiletry bag and trimmed short my pubic hair. It looked nice and compact, but still gave me some cover. Better safe than hairy, I joked to myself. 

I didn't see much point putting on a robe when it was broad day light outside, besides I had brought several sets of clothes I was dying to try. But when I got to my suitcases they were almost completely empty, but for a few books, and a little makeup. I felt suddenly nervous, no clothes, for God sake, no clothes, I said over and over in my mind as I tried to come to grips with her inevitable nakedness. 

A few minutes passed before I heard a knock at the door. 

'Are you decent?' it was Martha.

'No I'm not, my clothes are all gone,' exasperation telling in my voice.

'Just put the robe on,' came Martha's voice through the thick timber door.

I went to gather the robe as she heard Martha ask if she could come in.

'I suppose so, but I'm not happy.'

'Why what's the matter dear?'

'I would like to have known about this whole nudity thing before coming. I mean its not quite what I expected.' I hadn't quite made it to the bathroom when Martha entered the room. I stopped and turned, my hands on my hips displaying my malcontent, ironically unaware that I was standing stark naked in front of Dylan's mother. 

Silence filled the air as I clenched my jaw, and looked into Martha's eyes. Martha looked back, her expression was somehow forgiving, compassionate and full of understanding. I felt as though I disappointed my guardian. I lowered my gaze and took a deep breath as my hands slipped from my hips. 

'Sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness,' Martha said, but never completed the saying. 'I never wanted you to say no.' Martha paused for a moment, sadness filled her eyes. 'Many times I wished that I had been set free from my inhibitions before I got involved with sex, it would have made life that much easier, that much more fun. Forgive me Helen, by hook or by crook I wanted to give you something special.'

I didn't know what to say. It felt uncomfortable, wrong maybe, I didn't know. Special, I wondered, it doesn't feel special, just silly, I thought to myself.

I put my robe on and joined Martha who seemed happy to have my company. 

'So what's so special about going naked?' I asked.

'Oh there's nothing particularly special about being naked, but there is something special about being free from shame. You see we are taught from the time that we are little girls that we shouldn't touch this or that, or let other people see certain things. "Sit with your knees together," all of that sort of thing. Being set free from all of that is one of the greatest gifts anyone can give you.'

I smiled, as I thought about all of the 'be lady like' speeches I had ever heard. Modesty had become part of my nature. I could still hear my great aunt saying "You can never be too careful, there were perverts everywhere." Quite the contrast. 

'Going naked might be ok in a house surrounded by a high wall free from men, but out in the big wide world, you can't throw modesty to the wind.' I said quite sure of myself. 

'No-one is asking you too. There is always a place for perfect modesty, just as there is a place for immodesty. There is nothing wrong with lifting your skirt and spreading your legs wide providing you do not offend anyone who sees what you have to show.'

'Surely you are not suggesting that it is proper to go around flashing perfect strangers.'

'Its not the perfect strangers that you have to watch it's the people you know that cause the most harm. But no, I'm not suggesting that you cheapen yourself. I'm simply saying that you should never feel guilty for exposing yourself, providing you do it in an appropriate context.' Martha had a certain gentle wisdom about her. Life had certainly taught her things most people were scared to even think about.

During the day I saw very little of Martha over the next week or so. She often came to say good night and to talk to me about my day. After a couple of days Martha suggested that I should try to exercise my imagination, as having an active imagination was critical to having a good sex life. I was a little embarrassed when Martha told me that I should masturbate at least once a day while exercising my imagination. At least Martha never talked about technique. I was grateful for small mercies. Nevertheless, I was quite surprised, after the initial embarrassment ebbed away the whole idea didn't seem so bad. Martha explained that fantasies are just that, fantasies, and that they need never be played out in reality and that there was nothing wrong with exercising 'hands on imagination.' 

Martha had a way of making the whole subject seem so very normal, essentially human, and above all worthy of discussion. After a few sessions listening to Martha talk about sexual fantasies and so on I found it relatively easy to ask questions, and even ask questions about the link between sexual fantasies, arousal and sexuality. I had come to think that Martha was right; helping me discover myself, my inner sexual self, was indeed a special gift.

♂♀

The next fortnight had many surprises for me. I got used to and even looked forward to sun bathing naked with the other girls. At first having oil rubbed over her back, legs and bottom by the other girls felt positively weird, as did rubbing oil onto the other girls, but after a while it became somewhat ordinary. It even felt quite nice. I got a lovely all over tan as did the other girls. But I was a little wary of a couple of girls who delighted in exploring a little too far. Eventually the more adventurous girls teamed up. They rubbed oil over each other's fronts as well as backs. They teased the other girls as they massaged each other. A week after arriving my robe disappeared. They all ate breakfast dinner and tea naked, walked in the garden, played cards, and read books naked. I was amused at how quickly everyone got used to going naked, and on reflection I had to smile at how even she seemed not to care nor notice the other girls. 

I was probably most embarrassed when the 'Grand Mistress', Martina took me to one side and gave her a lesson on masturbation. At first I didn't know where to look, and certainly never wanted to masturbate in front of another woman. Martina encouraged me to watch her technique and then go and try it in private. She was right, this is great, I thought as I enjoyed the new technique. Over the following weeks she had a number of lessons, and practiced her technique along with the other girls. It was great. Martina talked about her g-spot and the difference between vaginal orgasms and clitoral orgasms, she even showed them how to double up, having a virginal orgasm first and then a clitoral orgasm was the best. Martina assured all of the girls that masturbation was something that every woman should become expert at. Martina promised the girls that she would teach them how to achieve female ejaculation, she said it was healthy, incredibly intense and always fun. 

I was intrigued with the whole female ejaculation thing, but would have to wait until I became proficient at pleasing myself by more ordinary methods. I was no stranger to the thrill of orgasm, as I had my first orgasm as a young girl. At the time I didn't know what it was, I just swung ever higher on a swing in the playground, I was busting for a wee, but did not want to stop, as I swung higher and higher, I rocked my body back and lifter my legs high in front of me only to lean forward as I swung back. I felt a funny, warm feeling in my secret place, the feeling got bigger until I felt like she was going to wee my pants and then my whole body went funny, I closed my eyes as the feeling took over me. It was scary at first, but nothing bad happened. It was my secret. After a while I visited the swings every day. Sometimes I would deliberately not go to the toilet so that I could visit the park on the way home from school. Occasionally I would wee my pants before I could get to the toilet, but even that seemed to feel nice after being on the swing. Only after I reached puberty did I ever touch myself and I never allowed anyone else to see me touch my private parts. 

But now, self discovery was proving more difficult. I wanted to explore my body further, but I was still a virgin. Some of the other girls pushed two or three fingers up their vaginas, one of the women used two fingers from the front and two from around the back. Her legs were spread and I could clearly see her fingers disappear deep inside her. She stretched her opening so that I could see inside her. 

'Doesn't that hurt?' I asked.

'No it feels great,' she replied, 'you should try it.'

One finger was all that Helen could manage, and even then it hurt. Helen wanted to go further, but wanted Dylan to take her virginity. Maybe after that she could find her g-spot. And then she could work toward achieving the illusive female ejaculation.