2 comments/ 21210 views/ 31 favorites Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 01 By: SusanJillParker There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. * All about sex. Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding them, feeling them, fucking them, and forgetting about the men she's had sex with gets her through her week. With him the one so chosen, Susan gave him that come hither look. The universal albeit brief stare, she gave him that seductive eye. No misidentifying her look, she gave him that sexy stare that told him that she wanted him and had to have him bad, really bad. A look without words, there was no mistaking that look. As if she was sitting on a rock in Homer's great, epic poem, The Odyssey, instead of sitting on a barstool at an upscale bar, she looked too stunning to resist. As if he was UIysses aboard his Achaean ship drifting too close to shore of Troy and to the rocks, in the way that Susan looked sitting there so available, he'd have to be a complete idiot not to respond to this sexy siren. Since the time that Homer penned his epic poem in the 8th century BC, she was no mermaid. She was no illusion. She was a real woman albeit his soon to be sexy, sexual fantasy. Looking at him a few seconds longer than she should was all that it took to get his attention. The universal mating ritual of humans that begins with a look, she waited until he acknowledged her look with a sexy look of interest of his own. There, not only did he see her looking at him and giving him the eye but also he gave her the eye too. Now not looking away, brazen enough to allow him to see her vulnerability, she returned his look with her lustful stare. Without a shadow of a doubt, she had given him the eye. Without a shadow of a doubt, he returned her interest with his own. Whomever was the recipient of her sexually inspired look, it was a look filled with raw sexual and sensual emotion together with the promise of naked, sweaty, heated passion with not only a stranger but also with a sexy MILF of a woman. Every horny man and sexy woman knew the meaning of that look. With them looking at one another now, without a doubt, he'll be coming over to her soon. Obviously not having to draw him a picture after giving him a sexual image of their anticipated sexual time together, without a doubt he knew what she so wanted to do to his naked, young, hard body. Without a doubt and without even having to speak a word, he obviously knew her sexual intentions. Without a doubt, he obviously knew he'd be taking her home with him tonight. With her already opening the door to the promise of them having sex with a mere look of lustful desire, all he had to do was to walk over to her, introduce himself, buy her a drink, and talk to her. Once he did that, she'd take care of the rest. As if her look was a heated ball of sexual desire about to burst in flames, it was a mutual feeling they both obviously shared and felt in a game they both needed to play. Now giving her the eye, he caught her eye and returned her look of longing with his sexual stare and lustful leer. Giving him plenty to look at with her pretty face, her long, blonde hair, and her partially unbuttoned bloused that displayed her long, line of bulging cleavage, obviously he was attracted to whatever she was selling. Obviously, in the beautiful way that she looked, what she was offering was a sexual fantasy. Obviously, in the sexy way that she looked, what she was selling was what women have sold men for thousands of years. She was selling sex so to speak. Only, not a hooker, a prostitute, or a call girl, she wasn't charging him or anyone for sex. Her game to play, she was giving sex away for free with no strings attached. He just needed to ask her for sex and she'd willingly give him all the sex he could handle. Sex, sex, sex with no commitment, sex, sex, sex with no complexities of a relationship, and sex, sex, sex with no excuses and/or apologies, their brief time together would all be just about sex. If he wanted her and if he could handle her, she'd consensually agree to give herself to him for a couple of hours tonight but, too confidently in control, a real lady, he'd have to make the move first. Tonight, he could have her, if he wanted her. Tonight, he could kiss her, touch her, and feel her in all those places that he wanted to touch and feel her while kissing her. Tonight, he could strip her naked and have his wicked, sexual way with her beautiful body. Tonight, he could lick her and if he made her cum, she'd make him cum too. Tonight, she'd suck his cock before he mounted her to make love to her and before she rolled him over to fuck him. Tonight was his lucky night but he had to meet her halfway and come over to her first before someone else caught her eye and gave her that look. * * * * * He made his way through the crowd with the music playing in the background as if he was a runway model modeling the men's, fall fashion, couture clothing, design line. With her eyes glued to his crotch, she watched him in the way that he watched her with his eyes glued to her tits. Tits for cock, if only he knew that she wanted to feel, suck, and fuck his cock as much as he wanted feel, fondled, and suck her tits, wouldn't he be surprised. Obviously accustomed to the games that women his age enjoyed playing and felt compelled to play, he had no idea what was about to happen with a more mature woman. Yet, with her having already played this sexy game many times before with young men, she knew what was about to happen. Most women, especially women his age, would give him the eye and look away but she didn't. Once he looked at her, she gave him her best, sexy, prolonged stare. Most women his age would never stare at a man's bulging package in the way that she stared at his bulging package. In the way that all men always stare at her exposed cleavage and in the way that he stared at her exposed cleavage, most men would look away but he didn't. Most women wouldn't dare do what she was about to do with a man she didn't know and just met, allow him to take her home for sex. Wanting him to take her dare to take her home, she wanted to make certain that her look gave him the courage to heat his desire and resolve enough so that, indeed, he would come hither to not only talk to her but also to leave with her. With his pride at stake and as if he was compelled to do so under men's law and under the unwritten and unspoken men's code of ethics after receiving the look, he walked over to her, introduced himself, and bought her a drink. Just as easy as that, once she found her man with just a look that's all it took for her to get what she wanted and all that she needed. As if she was Ernest Hemingway's Santiago in the Old Man and the Sea hooking the big one, she had him now and she had already determined his fate. Even with so many fish in the sea, definitely, so young, too hot, and too good looking, she wouldn't be throwing this one back. She'd be going home with him for him to lick her before she sucked him and fucked out his brains. With her such a naughty woman, indeed, he was such a lucky man. * * * * * "Hi," he said peering into her big, blue eyes before looking down at her cleavage and at the firm, roundness of the tops of her partially exposed breasts. "I'm William." She gave him a sexy look that would no doubt inspire him to masturbate if he was home alone. "Nice to meet you William. I'm Susan," she said shaking his hand while giving him that unmistakable look again. If he wasn't sure before that he'd be getting lucky, with the look she gave him now, he'd have to be clueless not to know that tonight was his lucky night. 'Run Billy, run!' Once he slept with her, in the way that Steven ruined her for all other men, she'd ruin him for all other women. With no alarms or buzzers going off in his head, he'd have a better chance of saving himself from her if she was a black, widow spider, instead of a hot, sexy, MILF of a woman. Yet, he should have known. Perhaps, he was too young to know. Perhaps, he's never had sex with an older woman in the way he was about to have sex with this mature bitch. If only he knew what he'd be getting himself into, maybe he would have made a mistake and not responded to her look but he did. Truth be told, once he got her home alone, he was in for a sexual exciting, albeit life changing surprise. His hand felt so soft in her hand, too soft for him to be working at manual labor. She hoped that the softness of his hand was no indication of the hardness of his cock. Looking professional, she figured he was an accountant, a lawyer, or a stock broker. She figured he was in his mid-twenties. Summing him up with just a look along with her learned skills of reading people, especially young men, she figured he wasn't a loser in the way that so very many classless and ill-mannered, aggressive, young men his age are. Obviously prompted by and lovingly cared for by his mother, he looked like a man who knew what he wanted and knew where he was going to get it. Only, in the meantime, as she's done with so very many young men before him and will undoubtedly continue to do with so very men after him, he'd be temporarily sidetracked by her. Obviously to her by what he so wanted and the reason why she chose him, he wanted to have sex with his mother, real or imagined. "I love you Mommy." All he knew about her was all that he needed to know about her, that she was a beautiful, sexy, and shapely, older woman. A MILF of a woman who looked much younger than her age, by his keen sexual interest in her, she already knew that she obviously reminded him of his mother or his aunt. Yet, definitely, whomever she reminded him of, she was a mother he'd love to fuck. In the way that she needed to be a doctor of psychiatry to know that he'd be getting lucky tonight, he didn't need to be an MIT rocket scientist to know that he'd be getting lucky tonight. No doubt, in the way that she inherently already knew that he wished he was intimately, incestuously, and sexually with his mother, within the hour, they were in his car making out as if they were horny teenagers exploring one another's bodies through their clothes on prom night. Kissing him and kissing him with her arms around his neck, she allowed him to touch and feel her wherever he wanted to touch and feel of her. Feeling her tits through her blouse and fingering her nipples through her bra before going up her short skirt to feel her panty clad pussy, while she felt his hardening cock through his pants, already well past the point of no return, there was no turning back now. Without him confessing that tidbit of private information to her, she already knew that he loved having sex with a woman old enough to be his mother in the way that she loved having sex with men young enough to be her son. Kissing and kissing him while he kissed her, with him fingering her emerging nipples through her blouse and bra, she felt his hardening cock that tented his pants. Kissing and kissing one another, she allowed him to touch and feel her everywhere he needed to touch and feel her while she touched and felt him everywhere she needed to touch and feel him. More than just a sexy cougar, she was a vixen with an agenda. She was a sexy slut and MILF of a whore who used and dumped vulnerable, young men before they could use and dump her. In the way that older men went through younger women, and in the way that Steven did to her, she went through younger men. * * * * * "Let's go to your place Bill," she said. Having him squirming in his car seat within a few minutes, sexually teasing him, she continued fondling the head of his cock through his pants with her manicured fingertips as they drove. As if he was a combatant returning home from war and she was his wife or girlfriend, all the way from the car to the lobby, they kissed, touched, and felt one another. The entire ride up the elevator, he kissed her and felt her big breasts through her blouse and fingered her erect nipples through her bra while she squeezed his ass and felt his hardening cock through his pants. Once inside, acting as if horny teenagers alone while their parents were away, not even taking the extra time to slowly undress one another while kissing one another, they couldn't remove their clothes fast enough. As if they were already together as one, they fell back upon his bed while kissing, touching, and feeling one another. He explored every part of her sexy and shapely, naked body in the way she was touching, feeling, and squeezing every part of him. "Lick me William," she whispered in his ear. "Go down on me. I need to feel your fingers and your tongue inside of me," she said unabashed and unashamed. "Eat my pussy Bill. Lick my cunt," she said reaching down to pull her pussy lips up and open to show him some glistening pink as proof to him that she was already ready for him to give her oral sex. "Okay," he said. "Only, you're the first woman who ever asked me to eat her," he said looking at her as if she was an angel and as if he was dreaming while living out his sexual fantasy. "Typically stopping in for a drink on a Saturday night and to meet up with a couple of my friends. Stuff like this always happens to them but never happens to me." "Stuff like what?" Acting so innocently naïve, she looked at him obviously knowing what he meant. "A beautiful woman giving me the eye. Normally, I go home alone after my friends all pair up with women. Normally, I'm too shy to approach a woman," he said, "but I'm glad that I approached you." "You underestimate yourself William. You're a very good looking, young man," she said. "Thank you," he said. "Take it from me, tonight is your lucky night Bill. Tonight, I want you to make me your woman. I want you to make me your bitch. I want you to make me your whore. I want you to do every dirty and nasty sexual thing you've always wanted to do with your mother," she said saying the one thing she knew would drive him sexually insane for her. * * * * * "Pardon?" He looked at her as if he was dreaming. He looked at her as if he was having his favorite, sexual fantasy while masturbating and imagining having sex with his mother. "I want you to do sexy, sexual things to my naked body that you've always wanted to do to your naked mother," she said giving him the same sexy look that she gave him at the bar. "This is your chance to eat your mother before Mommy sucks your cock Bill. And if you're a good boy and give Mommy what she wants and what she needs, an orgasm, after I cum, you may make love to your mother before fucking your mother." Unable to speak, he looked at flabbergasted. She studied the shocked look of surprise on his face as her words, especially when she said the word mother, hit him as if she threw a glass of cold water in his face. "Mother? My mother?" He looked at her as if she had just said the magic word. "You want me to pretend that you're my mother?" Not taking a chance or a risk that would ruin this little sexual affair before it even began, as if he was a monkey being tested and analyzed in her lab, she knew which sexual buttons to push to get the desired results that she wanted. Having done this many times before with many young men, she knew that the young men she chose for sex all wanted what they couldn't have. Knowing the boundless limits of their incestuous lust, picking up on and feeling their sexual frustration, she knew that they all wanted to have sex with their mothers. "Yes," she said looking at him as if he was a patient on her couch instead of a naked man in his bed. "Pretend that I'm your mother. Pretend that you're having sex with your mother. Make me cum and I'll suck your cock before fucking you," she said in a sexy voice as if she was a big cat growling at him instead of his mother's pussy purring at him. * * * * * Normally, she spoke in the educated way of Jane Hathaway, played by the late Nancy Culp, of the Beverly Hillbillies, or in the way that Diane Sawyer of ABC News spoke with her Wellesley College education, but not tonight. Tonight, she didn't flash her obvious education by enunciating every word. She'd allowed her articulation to slide for the benefit of seduction and sex. She didn't want to scare him off by him thinking that someone like him didn't deserve someone like her. For one thing, she didn't want him to know that he was having sex with a doctor, a psychiatrist at that. Experienced at doctor patient role playing and not wanting to ruin the sexual fantasy by imposing herself on him, she wanted him to truly believe that he was having sex with his mother. If anyone could do that, she sure could. If any woman could create a sexual fantasy, she was the expert in incestuous erotica and eroticism. Moving between her legs and going down on her, with her already at an unfair advantage, obviously by what she already knew about him, he ate her pussy with great enthusiasm as if he was eating his mother's cunt. Using him in the way that men have used her, he licked her pussy, as if he was having sex with his mother. Perhaps a bit misguided in his sexual lust and certainly misdirected in his sexual manifestation of him pretending that he was having sex with his mother, but she finally found the secret that men have known for more than a thousand years. Using that secret to her sexual benefit and to her erotic advantage, he was hers to do whatever she wanted now. As if she was his mother and he was her sexually enamored son intent on pleasing her, if only for the time they were together, he was her son sexually with his mother now. Now with their fantasy role playing the major focus of their love making, when he kissed Susan, he kissed her not as the woman he picked up at a bar but he kissed her in the way that he obviously yearned to kiss his mother. Being that she had already directed his sexual passion to that forbidden place, she had already told him to do to her whatever he'd want to do to his mother. Without him confessing to her what he was thinking, she knew that when he closed his eyes that he was thinking about having sex with his mother. Without him having to tell her, she knew that when he saw her naked body, he thought of his mother's naked body. Not needing to be a clairvoyant to know, just a trained psychiatrist, she knew that when he touched and felt her, he wasn't touching and feeling her, he was touching and feeling his mother. Now, with him there between her legs, he wasn't fingering, licking, and eating her pussy, he was fingering, licking, and eating his mother's pussy. Without him having to confess his forbidden, sexual attraction and incestuous desire to her for his mother, a clinically trained psychiatrist, so typical in his sexual desire, she already knew all that she needed to know about him. As if he was an open book that she could read without opening the cover and turning the pages, she flash read him by putting her hand on him as if she was Dr. Spock from Star Trek doing a Vulcan mind meld. In the way he looked at her, in the way that he touched her, and in the way that his cock was so very hard for her, his thoughts, his wants, his needs, and his desires were all so very transparent to her. She wouldn't be much of a psychiatrist if they weren't after all. Not offended in the least, she didn't mind him wanting to have sex with his mother instead of her. It didn't bother her in the least that he thought of his mother's naked body when he saw her naked body. She didn't care that he thought of his mother while kissing her, touching her, feeling her, and now licking her. Not only was it okay that he wanted to have sex with his mother as much as he wanted to have sex with her but also this was her modus of operandi. He wanting to have sex with his mother was a preferred psychological condition of her choosing him to have sex with her in the first place. She loved having sex with mother's sons who were sexually attracted to their mothers. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 01 * * * * * "My mother?" He looked at her again with as much curiosity as he looked at her with sexual excitement. "Do you know my mother?" As if he had just been tickled by a stranger, he laughed nervously and uncomfortably. "No," she said with a laugh. "How could I possibly know your mother when this is my first time meeting you? I've never had the privilege to meet your mother Bill." He looked at her looking at him. He looked as confused as he looked sexual excited. "Then, I don't understand why you continue to refer to my mother," he said with as much obvious, sexual excitement that he had in seemingly embarrassed puzzlement that his incestuous secret was no longer a secret at all. If he wondered how she knew that he wanted to have sex with his mother, all he needed to do was to ask her but he didn't. More preoccupied in pretending to have sex with his mother, obviously having sex with his mother while having sex with Susan was the only thing on his mind. In the way that he was so readable to her, it was obvious to her that he was a little leery of her too. "It's okay," she said assuring him as if she was his mother assuring him. "Even though we just met, I know what you want, I know what you like, and I know what you need." No doubt feeling invaded by all that she professed to know about him, especially when he obviously knew so little about her, he looked at her with as much nervous anxiety as he looked at her with sexual excitement. "How do you know what I want? How do you know what I like? And how can you possibly know what I need?" In the way that his mother, no doubt, smiled at him, she smiled at him and touched his cheek as if feeling him for a fever when he wasn't feeling well. After comforting him by her motherly touch and the softness of her smile, he seemed to relax. As if she had just hypnotized him, obviously instead of there with her, he was there with his mother. "Having been around enough young men, I can always tell. Trust me. I know. Don't be afraid. I understand you. I know who you are nearly as much as you think you know who you are. Now, lick Mommy's pussy," she said pushing down on the back of his head. "That's right baby, lick me. Eat me as if I'm your mother and after I cum, I'll show you a good time," she said running her long, manicured fingers through his soft, dark brown hair while he licked and fingered her blonde, trimmed pussy. "I do like eating your pussy Susan," he said. "Mom. Call me Mom," she said. To be continued... Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 02 There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. * All about sex. Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding them, feeling them, fucking them, and forgetting about the men she's had sex with gets her through her week. Susan looked down at William who was comfortably positioned between her legs while eating her. He looked so young, perhaps twenty-six or twenty-seven. He made her wish she was that age again. "Okay Mom," he said looking up at her from in between her legs. Pausing his licking of her, he looked at her with as much sexual excitement as he looked at her with curiosity. She ran her long, thin fingers through his dark, brown hair. "Let's do some role playing, shall we? Pretend that I'm your mother and you're my son Billy. Instead of calling me Susan, Sue, or Suzie, call me Mommy, Mom, and/or Mother," she said. Waiting for his reaction, she waited for him to answer her before continuing. "Okay Mom," he said seemingly sexually excited enough to call her Mom, Mommy, and/or Mother. Having already baited him with her mother and son hook, reeling him in, she smiled that she had another fish on her line. "Using your tongue and your fingers, and later your cock, if you were with your mother right now naked in bed with her instead of being here with me, show me what you'd do to your mother. Close your eyes," she said waiting for him to close his eyes. "Now imagine that you're with your mother instead of being here with me." Again she paused while waiting for him to get in his role. "I can see her," he said with sexual enthusiasm not doubt more for his mother than for her. "Oh, my God, this is so erotically exciting." So very easy to manipulate, he was so predictable. "Now imagine your mother here with you instead of you here with me. If I was your mother naked and in bed with you, what would you do to me that you'd love to do to her? Show me the incestuous, sexual lust you have for her by using some of that lustful, sexual desire on me," she said. He stopped licking her to look up at her wide-eyed. "Wow," he said. "Having sex with you is better than having sex with women my age. Having sex with you while pretending that you're my mother is way better than just having sex. More than just physical, it's cerebral. Having sex with you is as if I'm experiencing my sexual fantasy. I really like role playing," he said. She smiled at him in the way she imagined his mother would smile at him. "What does your mother look like? Tell me," she said already having an image of his mother in mind. For some reason, as if she was a psychic instead of a psychiatrist, she imagined his mother tall, blonde, and thin instead of short and obese with dark hair. She's had sex with enough young men to know the image that they have of their mother is the description of her. "She'd definitely way older than you," he said. "My Mom is forty-eight." How old does he think I am? He must think that I'm thirty-something instead of forty-something. "I'm not that much younger than your mother. I'll be forty-two on July 26th," said Susan. "Wow! You're fifteen years older than I am. You don't look like you're going to be forty-two," he said. "I figured you were thirty-five." How about that? He thinks I'm thirty-five. He just made my day. I wish I was thirty-five again, she thought to herself. "Thank you," she said. "Tell me more about your mother. Describe her. What color is her hair?" He looked up at her in the way that she imagined him looking at his mother while he was poised between his mother's legs. "She's blonde. Only, her hair color is from a bottle. Somehow I can tell that you're a natural blonde," he said with a chuckle while pulling out some strands of her blonde, pubic hair to examine them. With so many women wanting to be blonde, even those who don't have the fair complexion to carry the hair color, she was always proud of the fact that she was born blonde. "What else about your mother that attracted you to me?" He looked at her as if he was imagining his mother and she figured that, no doubt, he was. "My Mom is pretty like you but she doesn't have your shapely body or your big tits. She has a flat ass and definitely doesn't have your incredible ass," he said running his hand beneath her to squeeze her naked ass. "She's thinner," he said. "Still, in the way that you talk and the things you say, you remind me of her and you have the same big, blue eyes." She was starting to get the image of his mother. Falling into her comfort zone, something so difficult to turn off, she analyzed him as if she was analyzing a patient instead of a lover. Definitely, he likes her big tits. Definitely, he wishes his mother had big tits. For him to verbalize that she's a bottle blonde, definitely he wishes his mother was a natural blonde. Without a doubt, he likes her round, firm ass. Definitely, he's a man who would have sex with his mother if he could. "So, it's not much of a stretch for you to pretend that you're having sex with your mother instead of having sex with me," she said looking down at him while running her long, thin fingers through his dark, brown hair. "Correct?" She didn't even have to wait to hear his answers. She already knew them as if she was scripting this as a screenplay. "Oh, God yes. Being with you naked is my sexual dream come true Mom," he said staring up at her as if to see the impact of him calling her Mom. "No offense, but I love thinking that I'm here with my mother instead of you," he said. She smiled at him again while running her fingers through his hair. "I don't mind that you're thinking of your mother naked more than you're thinking of me naked. I enjoy pretending that I'm your mother and that you're having sex with your Mom," she said. * * * * * Pushing all of his repressed, sexual buttons, obviously buttons that had never been pushed before, especially in such a public display of repressed, incestuous sexuality, suddenly, as if she had plugged him into a wall outlet, electrified with sexual passion, he became animated and energized. It's one thing to be in bed with a naked, beautiful woman but it's quite another thing to be in bed with a woman who's nearly old enough to be his mother while being encouraged to live out his sexual fantasy by calling her Mom, Mommy, and/or Mother. As if his tongue became her battery operated vibrator on overdrive, seemingly intent on sexually pleasing his mother, he licked her pussy with renewed sexual vigor. In the way that her big, hard dildo fucked her, his long, stiff fingers rubbed her clit and probed her in the way that she needed to be rubbed, fingered, and probed. "I love you Mommy," he said not playing the game when voicing his loving sentiment but meaning it as if he was actually talking to his mother. She remained unfazed by his sudden incestuous sentiment of his love for his mother. Already knowing that he loved his mother, really loved his mother, and no doubt with him wishing that she was indeed his mother and she was in bed with him naked, she expected no less of a sexual reaction from him. In the same way that she was emotionally detached from her patients, she was detached from her emotions of love and romance after having them severed by a bad, romantic breakup with Steven twenty years ago. With Steven ruining her for all romantic relationships and for all men, still taking its emotional toll on her, she didn't feel anything for him or for any man but contempt. Other than using a man for sex once a week, she had no need for a man in her life. It was just about sex with her. Sex, sex, and sex was all that she wanted and needed from men. In the same way that one older man used and abused her and in the way that some older men continue to use and abuse young women, she used and abused young men. In the same way that some men, not all men, treat women with disrespect and contempt, especially young women, with young men the worst offenders, young men were the ones she treated with disrespect and contempt. Young men were the men that she enjoyed sexually using by having them give her an orgasm, Young men were the men that she emotionally abused by unmasking their mother fixations and holding that incestuous mirror up to their faces. Her way of getting even with men and of righting the wrongs for all that men have done to women by finding them, feeling them, fucking them, and forgetting them, she didn't feel bad about treating men in the same way they got away with treating women. With nothing sane about what she was doing in having sex with a different man young enough to be her son once a week, the only explanation and the only justification she needed was that, generally, psychiatrists are crazier than their patients. Yet, when she suffers from those same issues of rejection too, being that she was certifiably insane with it came to her personal, sexual and emotional issues in dealing with men, who better suited than she is to understand those with mental illnesses and emotional disabilities than her? Who else can help the mentally ill and the emotionally disturbed than someone who suffers from the same afflictions, conditions, and issues but who possesses the educational credentials to prescribe them the medications they need than a doctor of psychiatry? Not so much a game but with her holding onto something tangible and physical, she clung onto his young, hard, naked body as if she was clinging onto life itself. With sex more meaningful than having the give and take of a romantic relationship, and with her never wanting to go through that malarkey again, now it was just about sex with her and nothing else. Sex, sex, sex, in the way that most men only want a blowjob while feeling her big tits and fingering her erect, hard nipples, all she wanted out of any man was a talented finger, an experienced, willing tongue, and a big, hard cock. What better way to get what she wants by giving men what they need and what they need is pretending they're having sex with their mothers? Willing for them to use her while pretending that she's their mother, so long as they gave her an orgasm, it was a win/win proposition for both of them. "I love you Mommy!" Having heard those four words so very many times before, obviously I Love You Mommy was something that men needed to say to her while having sex with her and pretending that she was their mother. Their perverse peccadillo amazed even her not only how easily she could spot a man who wanted to have sex with his mother but how easily she could get him in bed to do all to her that he so wanted to do to his mother. Then, once she gave him her permission to live out his long-term, incestuous, sexual fantasy of having sex with his mother, it was then that his lovemaking took on a new dimension. As if empowered by relaxing and being himself in his own sexual perversity, finding a woman that he could trust with his secret of mother and son incest, seemingly he found a soul mate in her. He found a woman who not only understands his wants and needs but also a woman who allowed him to explore his wants and needs by living out his erotic, sexual fantasy of having sex with his mother. If only he knew that their consensual, sexual union was more about her orgasm and nothing else than it was about him, she wondered what he'd say. In the good way that she gave them so much sexual pleasure, she didn't think that these young men minded her using them for her sexual pleasure too. * * * * * "Make Mommy cum. Finger me while licking me. That's right baby, stick your tongue and your finger deep inside of me. Lick me, lick me, lick me. Mommy wants to cum in your mouth," she said gently stroking his hair in the way that he no doubt imagined his mother touching him while eating her pussy. It was not only all so easy to find the young men who'd readily play her sexy, twisted games of catch and release sex but it was also so easy to bed them. It was all so easy for her to get them to live out their sexual fantasies while pretending that she was their mother. As if she was a flimflam woman selling snake oil that was guaranteed to cure all ailments and afflictions, it was too easy for her to get all that she wanted and all that she needed from a young, handsome men who were nearly half her age. Manipulating young, impressionable men while controlling vulnerably naïve, young men, she played the mad doctor while they were her enlisted, albeit unpaid, volunteer, test subjects in her lab. Once she found her next victim, she was able to entice any young man who locked eyes with her after just meeting him to take her home for sex. As if bring home an adopted puppy, in the way that puppies licked her face and ate out her hand, she had him licking and eating her pussy. If she spent any more time with him other than this one night, she could train him not only how to fetch, sit, and rollover but also how to sexually please her. Only, easily bored and limited in her intolerance of inane conversation, one night was all that she could give any young man. Bored to death after receiving her orgasm, there hasn't been one, young man who has held her interest long enough and entertained her well enough for her to stay with him longer than one night. They were all just warm bodies there to sexually satisfy her so that she could return to her work without being distracted by hormonal horniness. Only, she didn't need any man to please her when she had herself to do that. So long as she had her once a week Saturday night sex, she was fine, thank you very much, without having a steady man in her life. Finding them, feeling them, fucking them, and forgetting them, she never spent more than a night with any young man. Not wanting to feel anything, especially obligation, commitment, and love, she only wanted to feel erotic pleasure and sexual gratification. Other than for one night of hot, passionate sex, once a week on a Saturday night, and all because of Steven, she was done with men. "I love eating your pussy Mom. Cum Mom, please cum in my mouth," he said what they all say. "I want you to cum in my mouth Mommy. I want to taste you Mom." Obviously with him just as crazy in his sexual lust for his mother as she was insane in her sexual lust for young men, she looked at him as if he was her son while running her fingers through his hair and at that incestuous moment, he was her son. One of her favorite positions to see a man in, between her legs while fingering her and licking her, she felt so empowered by a man passively while passionately licking her pussy. Feeling in control by giving him what he wanted while he gave her what she needed, she didn't see anything wrong with keeping their sexual secrets secret. The real litmus test that defined their perversity was that young men wouldn't want anyone to know that they were sexually attracted to their mothers and pretended to have sex with their mothers when with her. With her keeping her sexual life secret too, the real litmus test that defined her perversity is that she wouldn't want anyone to know that she had sex with a different young man every week. "After you give me an orgasm baby, I'll give you one too," she said looking down at him when he looked up at her. "Would you like Mom to blow you? Would you like Mommy to suck your cock? Would you like to cum in your mother's mouth and watch her swallow your cum?" As if she had just promised to take him to Disney World, he looked at her with excited, sexual glee. It's amazing what a few choice words coupled with a few empty promises would do for her sexually. "Oh God yes Mom," he said momentarily stopping to lick her to answer her while looking up at her with obvious lust and incestuous thoughts in the way that he'd no doubt be looking at his mother, if indeed she was his Mom. Pushing all of his erotic buttons with the words and the promises that he needed to hear, as if she was his sex therapist and he was her patient, she continued her role as his imagined mother. "Tell me Billy and don't be shy," she said reiterating his own long, unsated sexual desire. "I need to hear you say it. Would you like to make love to your mother before you fuck your mother?" * * * * * With him still positioned between her legs while fingering her and licking her, she watched him sexually pleasuring her. As if she was observing a paid volunteer, test subject in her lab with a trained eye, she watched the obvious changes in his face, his widening eyes, his lowered lip, and his quick breathing answered her question without him even having to respond. She couldn't have diagnosed him wanting to have sex with his mother any better if his brain waves, breathing, and pulse rate were hooked up to and were monitored by her computer while he was asked a series of sexual and incestuous, thought provoking questions. He reacted to her mother and son words in the way that Alex, played by Malcolm McDowell, did in Stanley Kubrick's Clock Work Orange when psychiatrists observed him while asking him a series of questions of sex and violence as he watched disturbing film footage of naked women. Forever lost, with him unable to focus on a woman his age, someone like him would never lose the sexual fantasy of having sex with his mother. With her making matters worse by feeding into his incestuous desire to have sex with his mother, instead of helping as a good doctor should, she used him for her selfish, sexual pleasure. In the way she did with all of the other young men and with all of them wanting the same thing, to experience having sex with their mothers, she knew what they all liked. She knew what they all wanted. Inherently, she knew what they all needed. Even those young men who would never live out their sexual fantasy by having sex with their mothers, she knew that the incestuous thoughts still titillated them enough for her to control them by role playing out their sexual fantasy. Sex, incestuous sex, was all that it was about after all. Whether they acted upon their incestuous sexual fantasy or not, mother and son sex is what all these young men wanted. Prepared and ready to give him all that he wanted and all that he needed, all he had to provide her with was an orgasm. Much easier now that he imagined he was having sex with his mother, with her the professional in psychiatry, this was all her game to play. "Yes. I'd love to make love to you mother. I'd love to fuck mother. I'd love to fuck you hard and I'd love to fuck you deep Mommy," he said with the obvious sexual excitement that manifested for his mother that was now manifested and transferred to her. As if he was positioned on her couch instead of in between her legs, she looked at him as if he was her patient and for all intents and purposes he was, albeit her sexual patient for her personal use and erotic abuse. "Then, pretend that I'm your mother and you are having sex with your mother," she said whispering her words with seduction. "Make mommy cum and then you can make love to me before you fuck me and after I blow you while pretending that I'm your mother. How's that?" As if she could read his mind and, in some regards, she could just by studying his behavior, she knew all the right things to say to him to get him going. In the way that a call girl erotically controls her client, armed with a Harvard education, a doctorate in psychiatry, as well as a doctorate in philosophy, she was like no call girl he'd ever meet, especially with her giving her sexual services away for free. All she asked in return was an orgasm. Seemingly a fair exchange, giving a young man his sexual fantasy while he pretended he was having sex with his mother, she needed an orgasm to soothe her spirit for her to return to work on Monday. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 02 "Okay," he said as if she promised to take him out for ice cream after taking him to the toy store. "I'd love to fuck you and I can't wait for you to blow me, Mommy. I love fingering your pussy while licking your pussy," he said playing her game of role playing when she allowed him to live out his sexual fantasy of having sex with his mother instead of having sex with her. "Don't worry Mom. I'll make you cum. I promise I will," he said reaching up to feel and fondle her big tits while fingering her nipples. She didn't care who he thought he was having sex with, so long as he had the passion and the willing sexual desire enough and his cock was hard enough to give her what she so wanted and what she so needed, an orgasm. Something she had the powerful advantage over women his age, how many women his age would understand his desire to have sex with his mother? None. How many women his age would be disgusted and grossed out by him thinking of his mother while having sex with them? All of them. Besides, he could never pretend a woman his age was his mother in the way that he could pretend with her. Having the best of both worlds with Susan, he was having sex with a mature woman who could have been his mother. Almost old enough to be his mother and, through role playing, professed to be his mother, no doubt this was the best sex he's ever had. While she was having sex with a young handsome man who had a great body and a hard cock, a man nearly young enough to be her son, he was having sex with a mother he'd love to fuck. Straining out all the other bullshit of a long-term committed relationship of love and romance while just leaving the sex, what more did she need to have than that? * * * * * "Oh, right there. Don't stop Billy. Mommy likes that. Lick me while rubbing my clit. Yes, yes, that's it. Perfect. Beautiful. Oh, baby. Lick me faster while rubbing me harder. Don't stop. Don't stop. Oh God, please don't stop. Rub my bean baby. Rub my bean. Mommy's about to cum." As if she was a man forcing his cock deeper in her mouth, she put a forceful hand behind his head and mashed his face in her wet cunt while having her much needed orgasm. Still licking her while fingering her as if he was licking and fingering his mother, with him giving her all that she needed and all that she wanted, she used him to give her much needed orgasm. Yet, it wasn't all one way. As promised, for her sexual satisfaction as much as for his sexual pleasure, she took his cock in her hand and stroked him before taking his stiff prick in her mouth to suck him. "Pretend I'm your mother Billy," she said removing his cock from her mouth to speak while stroking him and staring up at him with her big, blue eyes. "Would you like Mommy to suck your cock?" As if asking a man if he wanted to drive her new Mustang GT, she already knew his answer. "Yes," he said. "I'd love for you to suck my cock Mom." She smiled victoriously at his predicable response while inherently knowing that the only thing better than her sucking his cock or him driving her new Mustang GT is her sucking his cock while he's driving her new Mustang GT. "Play with my tits and finger my nipples while I suck your cock," she said taking his stiff prick in her mouth again to suck him while stroking him. "I like having my nipples fingered when I have your cock in my mouth." Wanting to give him the image of his hard, hairy cock in her mouth while she looked up at him with her big, blue eyes as he fondled her breasts and fingered her nipples, she enjoyed teasing him. "Oh, mother, you're such a slut," he said looking up at her to see her reaction. "I love it that you're such an incestuous, dirty whore." Dirty talk was always the preferred way to arousing Susan. She loved being called a slut and a whore while having sex with a man nearly young enough to be her son. "I'm your incestuous, dirty whore, Billy," she said. If only he knew how many young men she's had sex with before him and how many young men she'll have sex with after him, wouldn't he be shocked. What would he call her then if he was already calling her a slut and a whore now? "I love your big tits Mom. I love your hard nipples," he said feeling her tits and fingering her nipples while she sucked his cock. Sucking him while continuing to stroke him, she allowed him his fun, until she was ready to have him pleasure her again. Not allowing him to cum, never allowing any of the young men to cum without having protection first, she removed a condom from her purse and pulled it down over his cock. Then, mounting him, she guided his cock in her warm, wet pussy. "Pretend I'm your Mom. Make love to me as if I'm your mother," she said. "Oh, Mommy," he said. "Stick your big, hard cock in your mother's warm, wet pussy," she said leaning down to rest her big tits on his chest while whispering her words in his ear before kissing him long and deep. "Then, after you make love to Mommy, you can fuck Mommy hard, really hard. How would you like that son? Would you like to fuck Mommy hard? Would you like to fuck me, your mother?" "Yes, I'd love to make love to you Mom before fucking you hard," he said. Slowly humping him while grinding her pelvis into him and rubbing her wet pussy all over his pelvis, she felt him going deeper while he grew harder. Then, changing his angle of penetration by sitting up on him to ride him as if she was riding a mechanical bull at a Texas, roadhouse bar, she used his body while he used her body. Humping him while returning his humps, they humped one another as if they were connected by glue. He reached up to harness her bouncing breasts in his big hands while running slow fingers over her nipples. Returning her humps with his, obviously, he continued humping her as if he was humping his mother. Then, rolling her over, he started fucking her in the way that he's always, no doubt, wanted to fuck his mother. Using her as his surrogate mother in the way that she knew he would and in the way that she used so very many other young men to do the same, he pounded her pussy as if he was fucking his mother. "Fuck me William. Fuck me Bill," she said. "Fuck me as if you're fucking your mother. Make me cum baby. Make Mommy cum again. That's right. Fuck me harder. Fuck me faster. Fuck me. Fuck me," said Susan saying everything she knew would make him fuck her faster and fuck her harder for him to give her the orgasm that she needed. "I'm going to cum," he said. "I love you Mommy! I'm going to cum." "No, not yet," she said. "Just a little longer. I'm almost there," she said putting a light finger to his lips. "You wouldn't want to disappoint your mother by not giving her an orgasm, would you?" "No Mom," he said fucking her faster and fucking her harder while prolonging his ejaculation. "That's it. I'm going to cum. Don't stop. Please don't stop. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me," she said. "Oh my God, Billy. Oh, my God. That was so incredibly good." Not taking the time to bask in the afterglow of sex, as soon as she had her orgasm, not caring if he ejaculated or not, she was off of him and in the bathroom with her clothes cleaning herself and getting dressed. On her way out the door before he could even protest her all too sudden departure, she was gone. To be continued... Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 03 There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. * No excuses and with her actions and inappropriate, sexual behavior already justified, what's good enough for older men to do with younger women is good enough for Susan to do with younger men. Paid to listen to the personal problems of mentally and emotionally disturbed patients all week, Saturday night was her night to escape her professional routine and to decompress. Rather than giving the men she met in bars some free, professional advice or her own piece of personal philosophy, Saturday night was her down time. Saturday night was her time to do what she so wanted to do and what she so wanted to do was to have sex with young men that culminated in her receiving an orgasm. Rather than giving the men who took her home some one-on-one private counseling, and/or some much needed psychological and/or psychiatric therapy, Doctor Susan Jill Parker filled a selfish, sexual need in herself by using young men for sex. Saturday night and all day Sunday were her only days to relax and having sex with another new, young man was how she relaxed. With her going over her notes from the previous week Saturday morning and afternoon, she was still working. Then, as if she was a carnivore on the hunt for fresh meat, a wild cougar on the loose, Saturday night she prowled the bars looking for her sexual partner for the evening. Sundays, after she had her sexual release, was the only day that she slept late, meditated, and relaxing while listening to music or watching a movie. Even though she's gotten away from it over the years, since her much older brothers taught her how to play, her fascination with piano accordions and accordionists was a secret that she never told anyone. Hooked on Lawrence Welk and once in love with Myron Floren as a little girl, Sunday was her day to play that accordion, a shiny black, Pan Italia squeezebox with dual tone chambers, like the one that Myron Floren played on the Lawrence Welk show. She lived a good life now that she was finally away from and over Steven. Yet, still infatuated with him, she still thinks of him. If she was totally over Steven, she still wouldn't be thinking of him every waking moment and dreaming about him in her sleep. If she was totally over Steven, her sub-conscious way of getting back at him, she still wouldn't be having sex with a different young man once a week. If she was totally over Steven, she would have been in a committed relationship of love, caring, and mutual respect by now. Perhaps, she would have even had a couple of kids by now. Yet, with some things never changing, still the same, she roamed bars on Saturday nights looking for hot, young men in the way that he, no doubt, continued roaming the college campus looking for young, naïve, impressionable coeds. Making for great lovers who gave her what she so wanted and what she so needed, an orgasm or two, her sexual peccadillo was to have sex with those young men she knew who wanted to have sex with their mothers. In a way and in that regard, if only just on Saturday nights, indeed during her brief Saturday evening sexual encounters, she changed her role from that of a clinical psychiatrist to that of a sex therapist. An interesting concept and one already proven to work by older men who date young, beautiful women, it's a simple premise that has successfully worked for her for several years. In the way that the concept and premise has worked thousands of years for older men who took sexual advantage of younger women, especially those young women who wanted to have sex with their fathers, she took sexual advantage of young men who wanted to have sex with their mothers. Seeing nothing wrong with what she did on Saturday nights, a win/win situation, and with her able to justify her actions, working for her as much as it worked for them, she took advantage of the young men who had sex with her. With them thinking that they were playing her, in reality she was playing them. If they only knew that not only in body but in mind too that she was the professional and they were just amateur. In the way she went through men, if anything, her carnage laying there naked and spent as she left them and closed their front door behind her in the way that men abandon women, they were her sexual victims. Part of her justified reasoning, in the way that it was sometimes difficult for older men to take sexual advantage of younger women, especially those women who didn't want to be taken sexually advantage of, it was always easy for her to take sexual advantage of younger men. Being that she was good looking and sexy and with young men willing, ready, and able to have sex with anyone, anytime, and anywhere, having sex with young men wasn't much of a challenge. She didn't have to use her talents of seduction to get young men naked and in bed. The challenge was in psychologically manipulating and sexually seducing them with their obvious, inherent, and forbidden sexual fantasy of having sex with their mothers. Role playing while pretending to be their mother, the forbidden thoughts of them having sex with their mothers was enough to make them displace their sexual needs to her instead of only thinking of themselves. The transferal of sexual feelings for their mothers to her was enough for them to give her what she needed and what she wanted, multiple orgasms. Her having sex with young men was only about her cumming and not so much about them being sexual satisfied. With her having much more to lose professionally than her typical sexual, one night stand partners, she should have known that what she was doing was wrong and with her being a psychiatrist, she obviously knew that. Only, able to justify her perversity in her mind, so long as no one discovered her sexy secret of having sex with men nearly half her age once a week, every week, she didn't care. What she did in private and behind closed, bedroom doors was her personal business and no one else's. As long as she took care to sleep with a different man from a different bar once a week, unless someone recognized her, no one would ever know what she did on Saturday nights. Not willing to invest any of her emotions, a complete waste of her time to fall in love, her way of distancing herself, Saturday night sex with another new, young man was all that she wanted and all that she needed to do to replenish her energy reserves. Using their mouths and their fingers as if a human vibrator and their cocks as if a human dildo, an orgasm was all she needed and an orgasm was all that she wanted from men. Oral sex culminating in an orgasm and/or a good fuck gave her the sexual release that recharged her battery. Saturday night sex was all about her and all that she wanted. Saturday nights was the one night that she let down her hair, wore contact lenses instead of wearing her oversized, black framed eyeglasses, and removed her lab coat to dress sexy. Saturday night was her night to get down and dirty in having promiscuous sex with men not only young enough to be her sons but also young enough to raise the eyebrows of those who would dare judge her without knowing her or her disturbing background. When it was acceptable for older men to date younger women, why should anyone care who she sucked and fucked? Whenever she was out in public with a man a dozen or more years younger than her, they looked at them as if they were mother and son. Instead of perceiving them on a date while drinking, dancing, and having fun, they looked at them as if they were doing something incestuously naughty. With her receiving stares and without men so much as receiving a glance, they looked at her in the way that they should be looking at men who were allowed to do the same thing with women young enough to be their daughters. With women their own worst enemies by finding fault with her dating younger men for sex, how dare they? Always the double standard getting in the way of her having some hot, sexy fun, people should mind their own business. * * * * * Easy for her to identify those men who wanted to bed their mothers, being that she's a trained clinical psychiatrist, in the way that some men take advantage of women, she used her medical training in psychology, psychiatry, and philosophy to take advantage of needy, young men for sex. For sex, just for sex and nothing else but sex, sex, sex, sex, it was all just about sex after all. Yet, with her allowing a small army of young men to enjoy her mature, shapely, naked body, while she enjoyed their young, hard, naked bodies, the sexual exchange wasn't all one sided. In the way of Cameron Diaz, Jennifer Lopez, and Demi Moore, her having sex with young men wasn't lopsided at all actually. With her giving them what they so wanted, to have sex with their mothers, they gave her what she so needed, a much needed orgasm. As if she was a man playing women instead of a woman using men, free and easy, no romance, no commitment, no hearts and flowers, nor exchanging sentiments of love, her casual meetings were only about erotic excitement and sexual gratification. Sex, sex, sex, her picking up men in a high class bar on a Saturday night was just about sex. As long as they sexually pleasured her, she didn't mind sexually pleasuring them, that is, so long as they hurried up about it and didn't waste her time or ruin her sexual experience with useless and needless dialogue. Yakty yak, yak, yak, she'd rather they just shut the fuck up, not talk at all, and just give her sex. Yet, if the men thought that they'd use her to give them a blowjob or a quick lay, they'd be mistaken. Oh, no, she wasn't about to have any of that. As sexually, one-sidedly selfish that men have been with women, she was as sexually, one-sidedly selfish with men. She wouldn't play unless a man gave her an orgasm first. Then, maybe, depending on the man and on the situation, perhaps she'd allow him to cum too, especially if he gave her more than one orgasm. Moreover, men have been slam banging women for thousands of years and leaving them sexually frustrated and emotionally unsatisfied while only caring about their own sexual satisfaction and emotional gratification. In that regard and with that in mind, she wouldn't have a second thought about leaving a man sexually frustrated and emotionally unsatisfied after he pleasured her and gave her an orgasm. If he didn't cum in the allotted time she gave him to cum just before and just after she had her orgasm from him fingering her, licking her, and/or fucking her, after she sucked him and fucked him, too bad for him that he didn't cum. Able to be a bitch about it, that's not her problem. That's his problem. For sure, once she received what she wanted from him, she wasn't about to get down on her knees to suck him. Definitely not, she wasn't about to bend over in front of him so that he could fuck her like a dog while feeling her big tits and fingering her hard nipples. So long as she had her orgasm and got what she wanted, with her never seeing him again anyway, she didn't care if he enjoyed their sexual time together by cumming. This brief union was all sexually about her and never about him. Maybe later, after she left, he could masturbate in the privacy of his bathroom or bedroom while imagining that he just had sex with his mother. Maybe later he could masturbate over the memory of having had sex with a beautiful, mature, MILF of a woman. Maybe later he could find a woman his age to use and abuse but she wasn't about to allow him to use and abuse her. On no, after Steven so sexually used and abused her for four, long, arduous years, rest assured, her being sexually used and abused by any man will never, ever happen to her again. With her orgasms her top priority and always a slow crockpot to simmer before coming to a full boil and with men's ejaculations a backburner event and always a quick, gushing oil well, she gave men plenty of opportunity to cum. Only, after she's already received what she wanted from the onset and after she's already had her orgasm, she wasn't about to hang around and wait around for them to continue to use her naked body to cum. Sexually selfish about it, now was her turn to act like a man and take what she wants instead of acting like a woman and giving men what they need. Done with them as soon as she got what she wanted, with her no longer in the mood nor there in bed with them, her mind was already somewhere else. Next Saturday night, she'd do the same, exact thing all over again but in a different bar and with a different, young man. All sexually about her in the way that men have always had their erotic dalliances all sexually about them, it was her turn to not only sexually enjoy herself but also to sexually satisfy herself. After all the pain and all the suffering sorrow she's been through with Steven, having sex with men young enough to be her sons was her perverse, personal, albeit twisted payback to men as a whole. Men, men, men, in actually, not angry enough to turn lesbian, she truly hated men, the reason why she could continue using and abusing them. * * * * * Her casual, late night meetings were all about filling the need in her to be physically sated and sexually satisfied so that she could go about the rest of her week without being sexually frustrated. Thinking of sex more as a medication, her magic pill and her much needed elixir that she must take once a week to be cured of her salacious thoughts, having sex with strange, young men on Saturday nights was a hard, albeit necessary medicine for her to swallow at first. Having sex with strange young men was one thing but taking advantage of young men she knew who had psychological problems that stemmed from being sexually attracted to their mothers was quite another thing and against all that she learned at medical school. Yet, by her taking her prescribed medicine, having sex with strange, young men on Saturday nights was something that she needed to do to remain sanely functional not only after her breakup with Steven but also after having to deal with the insane, emotionally disturbed ramblings of her patients. After her breakup with Steven, an emotional wreck before with suicidal thoughts, with her studying psychology and philosophy and becoming a psychiatrist before stumbling over this sexual elixir of having sex with young men, she's never felt better. The best thing she ever did, what came about when seeing herself in the mirror, and the one thing that saved her life was to become a psychiatrist. Steven, Steven, Steven, with some things never changing even after twenty years, everything she did was directly or indirectly because of Steven. Steven, Steven, Steven, just as he drove her mad with sexual lust and romantic desire twenty years ago, the mere thoughts of him drove her insane now. Steven, Steven, Steven, still acting out as if she was a 21-year-old girl instead of a 41-year-old woman, he still drove her mad with hurt and hatred now, enough hurt and hatred of men for her to use and abuse younger men by having sex with them. How dare he dump her in favor of his wife? How dare he do to her what so many married men have done to so many single, gullible, innocent women? How dare he use her for sex, allow her to fall in love with him, and then reject her love? How dare he lie to her about leaving his wife? How dare he lie to her about having other girlfriends? How dare he leave her for another younger woman? Too intelligently educated, a doctor with a Harvard education and a PhD in philosophy, she wasn't one of those young, needy women, was she? Done with men and done with love, romance, marriage and the hope of ever having children, having sex with strange, young men was all that she now needed and all that she now wanted from a man. The only physical contact she wanted and needed was from what she received from a stranger who picked her up at a bar and took her home on a Saturday night. Expecting a stranger to lie to her, expecting a stranger not be honest with her, and expecting a stranger not tell her the truth about anything, it didn't matter if they lied to her in the way that Steven hurt her with all of his lies. With her maintaining her distance by only becoming sexually involved and not emotionally invested, a stranger could never hurt her in the way that Steven had. By not becoming entwined in a romantic relationship, she could never fall in love with a stranger in the way that she fell in love with Steven. Steven, Steven, Steven, too much of her life was wasted while thinking about Steven, Steven, Steven. All that mattered to her and all that she wanted from a man now and nothing else was a good fucking time and an orgasm. Willing to trade them her mouth, her hand, her pussy, and total use of her naked body, all she wanted from them was the pleasure they gave her with their mouths, their fingers, and their hard cocks. Willing to do anything but anal sex, she'd do everything else. She'd never allow any man to fuck her up the ass in the way that Steven routinely fucked her anally as if he was a dirty dog in heat and she was his nasty bitch. A once in a lifetime sexual event, what they sexually did together could never be duplicated or dared repeated. Too many memories, what they sexually did together was a special coming together that lasted for four, long, wonderful years. From the time she was a freshman in college to just after she graduated, everything was beautiful. There was a time when everything was perfect with Professor Steven Stephenson Stevens, SSS for short. There was a time when she thought he loved her as much as she loved him. There was a time when she thought he'd leave his wife for her. Then, once she left campus to get on with her life, he was getting it on with someone else, another young woman, the pig. Just as sex with young women never ended for him then, sex with young men never ends for her now. Now, with payback a bitch, if ever she met him again, she'd love nothing better than to fuck Steven up his ass with her strap-on dildo in the way that he fucked her up the ass by rejecting her and leaving her for another young coed. * * * * * Dating back to a time long before Dr. Sigmund Freud's Oedipus Complex theory, just as there was nothing new in what Steven was doing in using young women for sex, there was nothing new in what Susan was doing in using young men for sex. Other than reversing her role from that of a man having his wicked, sexual way with young women to that of a woman having her wicked, sexual way with young men, she truly believed that there was nothing wrong with that she was doing. From being a sexual victim to becoming a sexual predator, it was her turn to have some sexy, sexual fun with young men in the way that older men have been having some sexy, sexual fun with young women. Had she not been fucked over by Steven, she'd never be doing what she's doing now. A woman scorned, had she not been dumped by Steven and rejected by him for the love of someone else, namely his wife and his new girlfriend, she wouldn't be as vindictive against him and against all men as she is now. Against all that she stood for, no longer believing in the greater good, negative instead of positive, and seeing the glass half empty instead of half full, she now adhered to her premise that all men were liars, cheaters, and evil. All men suck. Something that male philandering psychiatrists, psychiatrists, philosophers, and politicians have been doing since the days of Socrates, Aristotle, Hippocrates, and Thomas Jefferson, and before, she was doing now. This was her turn to get even for what Steven did to her and to get even with all men. Taking advantage of young women who were vulnerable and looking for a Daddy figure, men had sex with women young enough to be their daughters not only because they wanted to but also because they could. They knew the secret that unlocked the older man with younger women sexual door. Now with the shoe on the other foot with her taking advantage of young, vulnerable men looking for a Mother figure, she had sex with men young enough to be her sons. As interesting a concept as it was a simple premise, the notion is important enough to state again. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 03 These learned men, all held in high esteem and in powerful positions of rank, honor, and social status, with many of them not very attractive, all had forbidden sex with beautiful and desirable women young enough to be their daughters. Why? They had sex with young beautiful women because not only did they have the perverse desire to want to have sex with them but also because they had that learned knowledge in how to successfully seduce them. Whenever they met a beautiful, young woman who they knew didn't have a normal relationship with their fathers but had an immoral and perverse sexual attraction to their Dads, they'd swoop down as if they were a hawk scooping up a squirrel. Who better to realize that daughter/Daddy twisted relationship than a psychiatrist, a psychologist, or any man in power and influence over young, beautiful women? "I loved you Daddy," where words given to any mature man who filled the role of their absentee father. On the pretense and flawed premise that they were emotionally and psychologically helping them, these predatory men evoked their bedside manner and called upon their psychological knowledge to seduce women who they knew were looking for Daddy. Becoming their surrogate fathers instead, they were able to displace the sexual attraction that young, beautiful women had for their fathers to them instead. As if they were hypnotizing them with their words of therapy, just as they took advantage of young, beautiful women, she took advantage of young, handsome men. Whether they were psychiatrists, psychiatrists, philosophers, politicians, or plumbers, these men all took sexual advantage of beautiful, young women in the way that she took sexual advantage of handsome, young men. Psychological players who used their psychiatric skills, therapeutic technics, and quick witted words of seduction to an unfair advantage, these young, beautiful, vulnerable women didn't stand a chance of saying no to having sex with men old enough to be their fathers. Men who knew that these women were so vulnerable and impressionable, they used that vulnerability and impressionability to their unfair advantage. "I love you Daddy!" Men who not only knew how to bed them but also knew that these poor, emotionally damaged women wanted and needed to have sex with their daddies were easy pickings. Women who had their pick of younger and better looking men, they all freely gave themselves to older men just for the sake of fulfilling their sexual fantasy of sleeping with their fathers. Except for the money, why would a young, beautiful woman want an older, unattractive man? We'd only have to ask Woody Allen, Hugh Hefner, Donald Trump, and Michael Douglas and millions of others why so many young, beautiful women were willing to have them bed them. With many of these woman secured in their career and financial wealthy in their own right, such as Mia Farrow and Katherine Zeta Jones, they weren't having intimate relations with an older man for the money. It was more than that. Philanderers and playboy players, not because they were physically any better in bed, with virility at their age all in the mind, they just knew the secret that enabled them to remove the clothes of these young, impressionable women. Helping them along the way to give them what they wanted while these professional men took what they needed, it was a win/win situation for both men and women with no harm done. Right? And now, having experienced how it was done to her, an older man taking sexual advantage of her while in a long-term love relationship, Susan was doing the same by doing it to them, an older woman taking sexual advantage of younger men. So long as their patients didn't fall in love with them and/or cause embarrassing problems for them, when it came to older men having sex with younger women, everything was good, better than good. As Tony the Tiger would say, everything was great! Being that what happened behind closed, bedroom doors was stamped with and protected by patients' confidentiality, no one would ever know what these men did with young women that was not acceptable between a doctor and his patient. So long as their patients didn't report them, they could continue on in the way they've been sexually conducting themselves by taking advantage of young women for years. Yet, even with those young women they seduced who weren't their patients, there was the matter of ethical behavior. As if these men knew the trick to winning the biggest and the best stuff animal at a carnival, with their skills in psychology and psychiatry, they knew the secrets of seduction in seducing the youngest and most beautiful women. So long as their wives didn't find out about their sordid romances and discover the frauds that they were in the medical community, everything was good. Sure, it helped that the older men had money too and could buy their victims things and take them places but it was more about them filling a role as their surrogate father than it was in rewarding them with gifts and/or tokens of their affection. Most times, playing the role of the father they never had, even when the women knew and were aware of what was happening to them emotionally and sexually, it didn't matter. Young women who wanted to sleep with their Dads were happy to find an acceptable loophole that allowed them to sleep with a man who was old enough to be their father but without being blood related that would mark their relationship as incestuous. Being that they weren't blood related and their love affair wasn't deemed incestuous, even though they had incestuous thoughts and incestuous sexual fantasies, they were doing what they needed to do in that way that these men were doing what they wanted to do. While the women still had sex with men old enough to be their fathers, these perversely twisted men had sex with women young enough to be their daughters. Not emotionally mature enough to have and to maintain a real relationship with men their own age, they preferred playing the daughter card, just as those men who wanted to have sex with their daughters, played the Daddy card. Yet, it wasn't about having sex with their daughters with most older men who seduced younger women, it was about having sex with beautiful women young enough to be their daughters. As if they were a hypnotist, twisting their minds with their thoughts, they hypnotized these young women with their words, their intelligence, their humor, and with their voices instead of with their virility and good looks. How dare these older men abuse their psychological powers over someone who was emotional damaged, mentally unstable, and sexually vulnerable enough for them to want to have sex with their fathers and instead have sex with them? Look at these men. They're old and sexually unappealing. Now look at these women. They're young and beautiful. How in the Hell does a man like him get a woman like her? Are you kidding me? What's their secret? To be continued... Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 04 There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. * What's good enough for men to do with women is good enough for Susan to do with men. Nothing more than victims having sex with their sexual predators, older men know how to play the Daddy card to get what they sexually want from their surrogate daughters and daughters know how to play the daughter card to get what they sexually want from their surrogate fathers. Yet, how dare older, more mature, and more experienced men take sexual advantage of women so young, so impressionable, and so sexually inexperienced while many of these poor women are too young and too innocent to know any better? Now that Susan knows men's dirty, little secrets, so very easy for her to do the same to evoke that kind of sexual arousal from men, it was her turn to do sexually entice and arouse young, handsome men. Most women would never do such a thing, having sex with men nearly half their age so much so that she's deemed a sexual predator. In the way that most men think about sex, sex, sex, most women don't think about sex in the way that Susan thinks about having sex every Saturday night. Yet, in the way that she's been used and abused by men all of her life, she became a sexual predator without giving it a second thought or wasting her time and emotions on guilt or on remorse. With her now thinking like a horny, horrible man instead of a modest, moral woman, what she did on Saturday nights was just about sex. Sex, sex, sex, what she did on a Saturday night was just about her sexual needs and not about anyone else's sexual needs. What she did on Saturday nights wasn't anyone's business. Most women would be turned off to even think of having sex with a man nearly the age of their sons, but Susan wasn't turned off at all. If anything she was aroused by the thought of going to bed with young men. Perhaps, had she had children, especially had she had a son, too much like mother and son sex, she'd feel differently about having sex with a man nearly half her age. If anything, she was sexually aroused to have sex with a young, hard, naked body. Most women would be turned off for a man to pretend that she was his mother while having sex with her and calling her Mom, Mommy, and mother, but Susan enjoyed the incestuous role playing while having sex with young men. Most women would never have a new lover every week but every Saturday for years, since she graduated Harvard medical school, Susan did. Payback is a bitch, bitch, and, most definitely, because of what Steven did to her back then made her the bitch that she is today. In the way that these perverted, older men have done for thousands of years, it was her turn to satisfy her sexual libido while soothing her psychological need to have sex with men nearly half her age. Sex, sex, sex, taking the mindset of her male counterparts, if people don't like what she does, too fucking bad. What she does behind closed, bedroom doors is none of anyone's God damn business. Fuck them! Having sex with young men while allowing them to pretend that she was their mother was her naughty, sexual and erotic thing to do. Even with her being a psychiatrist and hearing every emotional problem and sick, depraved thought, it amazed even her how many young men fantasized about having sex with their mothers. It amazed even her how easy it was to turn men into a virtual sex machine of orgasmic pleasure once she allowed them to call her Mom, Mommy, and/or mother while she was sucking them, they were eating her, or they were making love before fucking one another. If she hadn't witnessed men's sexual transformation in bed whenever she played the Mommy card, she never would have believed it. "I love you Mommy." All it took for her to have sex with a different young man each week was to have a different mindset and that mindset was for her to more think like a man than to think like a woman. That mindset was what men have been doing for thousands of years to women while thinking only about their sexual pleasure and emotional gratification. With her having a man's mindset, what she does to men now is what men have always done to women, to find them, feel them, fuck them, and forget them. In the way that men have deserted women after having sex, what she does to men is to leave them before they can use her. Most women would never do what she was doing, having sex with a different young man every week, 52 weeks a year, for years. Do the math, since she graduated medical school seven years ago, 52 men times 7 years is 364 men, a man literally for every day of the week. Except for some of our beloved, promiscuous celebrities, how many women can say that they've had sex with 364 men? Most women would be appalled, aghast, and ashamed if they knew what Susan did on a Saturday night, especially with her being a Harvard trained psychiatrists. Most women would lock up their sons and forbid them to go to a bar unattended if they knew that Susan was on the prowl every Saturday night. Yet, unlike men who may feel some modicum of guilt and some shred of remorse after licking and fucking their way through a multitude of women in their adult lives, Susan had no repercussions of guilt and/or no feelings of remorse in doing what she does. As long as she didn't get pregnant in the process and/or be discovered by her colleagues to what it is that she actually does on a Saturday night, she was free to go her merry way and continue to have sex with men nearly half her age. With her successfully bedding hundreds of men without becoming pregnant and without catching a contagious sexual disease, why stop now when her libido was just heating up enough for her to want more sex instead of less sex? Sex, sex, and more sex, it was all just about sex after all. With no man making her feel committed and/or connected enough for her to stay any longer with them once she had her orgasm, in the way that these men were free to do the same with women, she was free to leave them to find her next conquest. As if they were a human dildo and/or vibrator, the young men that she found, felt, fucked, and forgot about were just her tool to use. In the way she had no remorse in replacing a dead battery in her vibrator or trying out a new dildo for fit, she had no feelings of loss when abandoning men after giving her so much sexual pleasure. Just as those older men were able to identify those young women who sexually fantasized about sleeping with their fathers for sex, she was able to identify those young men who sexually fantasized of bedding their mothers for sex too. A fair exchange, having sex with young men who wanted to have sex with their mothers, in the way that men have been bedding young women who wanted to have sex with their fathers, was a win/win sexual situation for all. What was an acceptable social, sexual practice for men, albeit in whispered hushes, was now an acceptable, social, sexual practice for her too, that is, as long as no one knew what was happening behind her closed, bedroom doors. Who knows? Emotionally as well as sexually, maybe for an hour or two, she was even doing these young men some good by pretending to be their mothers naked and in bed with them. So long as her friends, family, patients, and none of her colleagues found out that she was a slut using psychological dysfunctional men for sex, in her mind, able to justify her salacious behavior, there was nothing wrong with what she was doing. So long that no one knew that in the way that men have been doing for thousands of years, she was using her skills in philosophy, psychology, and psychiatry to her unfair sexual advantage. What did it matter what she did behind closed, bedroom doors on her own time anyway? As far as she was concerned, as long as the sex with consensual, what she did in her private time was none of anyone's business. Fooling herself by the justification that she wasn't hurting anyone, in the way that men have justified their bad and inappropriate behavior all through history by screwing young women, she didn't believe that she was doing anything wrong in using her psychological and psychiatric training to screw young men. If analyzed, what she did was nothing more than a personal issue and a private choice of stretching ones ideologies and professional principles to fit her own sexual wants, needs, and desires. So long as no one professionally questioned her and/or knew how she spent her Saturday nights cruising bars and picking up young men for them to take her home to their place, she didn't see the harm in having sex with young men. If anything, as if sex was an illicit drug and she was a druggie hook on the euphoria of an excess amount of Dopamine from an orgasm, it felt so good to suck and fuck a different young, handsome man every Saturday night while knowing that he'll get her to cum. Obviously more skilled at seducing young men than her male counterparts were successful at seducing young, beautiful women, with only a very few young men not taking her bait and/or not wanting to roll play by calling her Mom, Mommy, or mother, she had a very high success rate. Unlike women who were always on the lookout for Mr. Right, with men only looking for sex in the way that she only wanted sex, men were so damn easy to seduce, too damn easy to seduce. Most times, all she had to do was to flash them a smile while showing them some cleavage along with a bit of long, shapely leg. Most times to get their attention, all she had to do was to slowly cross her long, shapely legs while flashing them a bit of bright, white cotton panty. Most times, all she had to do was to listen while acting interested enough in what they were saying and in what they were doing, even when she was bored to tears. Most times, all she had to do was to give them the eye and continue to give them that sexy look that told them they'd be getting lucky tonight, even though she knew that she'd be the one getting lucky. Most times, with her knowing otherwise, they were the ones who hit on her. Assuredly, the young men thought that they were the ones trying to seduce her when, of course, it was the other way around. Using them in the hopes of sexually abusing them, if only they knew what she was up to, she wondered if they'd still want to have sex with her. If only they knew what she was up to, she wondered if they'd still want to play her sexy, incestuous game of a son having sex with his mother. Of course and without a doubt, they'd definitely still want to have sex with her because not only are men are easy but also most men want to sleep with their mothers. With her being so blonde, so beautiful, so busty, shapely and sexy, all they needed was one look at her and they all knew that they'd like to see her naked and sleep with. Looking much like the English model Sienna Miller or Heidi Klum but with a PhD, Dr. Susan Jill Parker was a formidable sexual force. God help the man she wanted because he'd have no free will to dare say no to her. With just one look and one, long, wet kiss, it wouldn't be very long before they'd be naked humping and sweating in bed. Unless she was hurting someone and/or violating her Hippocratic Oath as a doctor to do no harm, an oath written by the Greek physician Hippocrates, she was able to thread her needle and to make the connection that she was doing no wrong. Indeed, Hippocrates too had sex with not only women young enough to be his daughters but also with men young enough to be his sons. As was with Socrates, Aristotle, and even Sigmund Freud who had many young, attractive mistresses, in the way they bedded young women, they were her inspiration and motivation to bed young men. Being that she knew how to take sexual advantage of young men, and with her in total control of young men's destiny, what she did on a Saturday night was her game to play. Why not? Besides, as far as Susan was concerned, again, without feeling any guilt or remorse, in the same insensitive way that men have been doing since forever, again what she did on her free time was none of anyone's business. It was all just sex after all. * * * * * In the way that older, female celebrities, such as Cameron Diaz, Jennifer Lopez, and Madonna have sex with any young man that appeals to them, she does too. So what? What's the big deal? Who cares? Mind your own fucking business. In the same way as her male counterparts sexually comport themselves, she just wants to be left alone in peace to do whatever she sexually wants with whomever she sexually wants. And who she sexually wants are young men with hard bodies and even harder cocks who have the sexual fantasy of sleeping with their mothers. "I love you Mommy." So long as she wasn't sleeping with a patient, being that she was single and not in a romantic or sexual relationship, with her having no boyfriend, lover, or husband, she's free to sleep with whomever she wants, even a man young enough to be her son. Susan specifically looked for young men nearly half her age to seduce and to show her a good, sexual time. A cougar on the prowl is one thing but a cougar armed with a Harvard education and trained in philosophy, psychiatry, and psychology is another thing entirely. Young men didn't stand a chance against this mature woman when she was so sexually dressed to seduce and sitting at a bar looking so vulnerable and so horny. With her having such an unfair advantage over young men, an understatement, in addition to her education and professional training, between her beauty, her body, her intelligence, her sexually wiliness to seduce, and her charm, young men didn't stand a chance of saying no to her. Moreover, as her special bonus for them to want her and as her way for them to fuck her as if they're on steroids, for those young men who got her naked and in bed, she'd even allow them to call her Mom, Mother, and/or Mommy. Role playing while pretending that she was their mothers and they were her sons was a powerful psychological tool that she used to her advantage for her to have great sex and to make sure that they gave her what she so wanted, a much needed, heated orgasm. As if she was their personal, sex therapist, without being blatantly obvious about it, she allowed these lucky, young men to believe not only that they're seducing her but also that they were seducing their mothers. Instead, while mothering them and treating them as if they were her sons, she was always the one in control and not them. Assuredly, she was the one seducing them and not the other way around. Easy enough for her to do, especially with the men that she purposely chose and the key to her sexual success, she knew in advance that the sexual fantasy of having sex with their mother was their biggest weakness. By allowing them to live out their sexual fantasy by them having sex with her as if they were having sex with their mothers, they were such easy prey to bed. A win/win sexual scenario for both, she spent some quality time with young, hard cocks while they pretended they were having sex with their mothers. If anything, while they did her a sexual favor by giving her a much needed orgasm, she was doing them a favor by pretending that she was their mother and having sex with them. So long as the medical board didn't discover the adverse psychological ramifications with the sexual games she played with young, emotionally disturbed, young men, what did it matter? It was none of anyone's business if she allowed her Saturday night dates to do some innocent role playing during their sexual time together. What's so wrong with them pretending they were having sex with their mothers while, instead they were having sex with a Harvard educated, doctor of psychiatry, Dr. Susan Jill Parker? If only they knew she was a psychiatrist, either the shit would hit the fan or they'd ask her for some free professional counseling. With her showing them a better sexual time, even if she didn't give them enough time to ejaculate after they gave her an orgasm, their mothers should look as good as she did and as sexy as she was. * * * * * When men have been doing the same thing for thousands of years, with it being her turn now, what's so wrong with her doing to men what men have done to women? Still with the double standard rearing its ugly head, if there was anything at all wrong with what she was doing, it was because she was a woman taking advantage of a man and not the other way around. If there was anything at all wrong with what she was doing, it was because she was a trained, skilled, professional taking sexual advantage of a layman. So what? With men having all the fun before, especially in the way that Steven had with her, it's her turn now to have some sexy fun. Her personal, sexual peccadillo, she used young men in the way that older men used young women. She used young men in the way that an older man once used her. Her way of giving back and getting back all that she was subjected to, she used young men in the way that Steven found her, felt her, fucked her, and forgot her. Now it was her turn to be just sexually insensitive, as callous, and as emotionally detached as he was while having sex with her and when having sex with men nearly half her age. Taking a long time for her to not only understand his mindset but also to immerse herself in his insensitive, sexual philosophy, just as it was now all about sex with Susan, it was all just about sex with Steven then, after all. Nothing more than sex, sex, and sex, in the way that he mistreated and dumped her to the curb, she did the same to young men who were young enough to be her sons. Confounded and frustrated by Steven's bad behavior before, she didn't understand how someone could so callously mistreat her by dumping her, especially after he told her that he loved her and was ready to leave his wife for her. Confounded and frustrated by his inappropriate sexually bad behavior before, after all these years, finally she understood her reason for sleeping with Steven now. With her never knowing who her father was, obviously, for her to fall in love and sleep with Steven in the way that she did so very many times when she was so very young, she was one of those women who wanted and needed to sleep with her father too. Now that she's older, more mature, more sexually and romantically experienced, and more educated in the ways of the world and the psychology of human nature, she understood why some mature men sexually want younger women. She didn't need to be a Harvard trained psychiatrist to understand the obvious concept. She now understood why some younger women sexually want older men, why some mature women sexually want younger men, and why some younger men sexually want older women. * * * * * Sometimes still thinking about him, she wonders about Steven, not only as the love of her life but also as the one who got away. Wondering where he is now and what he's doing, she wonders what he looks like now. Wondering where he is now and who he's with, if even he's still alive, if she's 41 now and was 21 when she met him as a college senior twenty years ago, then Steven must be 60-years-old. Back then, ready to jump in bed with anyone who told her that he loved her, especially a man old enough to be the father she never had, she's not that gullible, needy, college coed anymore. Back then, an older man's emotional rejection was her Achilles heel. Back then, she'd do anything to be accepted by a man, even give him sex. If a man didn't respond favorably to her, especially an older man, making her feel weak at the knees and sad, his total disregard for her and disinterest in her was her Kryptonite. Back then, being that she was obviously so needy for Daddy's affection, she'd swoon over any man, especially an older man, who paid her a compliment and/or who gave her his undivided attention in the way her father never did. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 04 "I love you Daddy." Strangely enough, just after she was having her affair with Steven, Monica Lewinski was having a sexual affair with President Clinton that, according to the analyzed cum stain on her blue dress, culminated with her giving him oral sex. Even though the President of the United States came on national television to deny that he ever had sex with that woman, admitted, she gave him a blowjob. Obviously, something that Hillary wouldn't, couldn't, and or didn't do, Monica Lewinski did. Monica Lewinski sucked the president's cock and either spit or dribbled some cum from her mouth for her to stain her dress. With her not understanding the reasoning for being sexually attracted to an older man until it happened to her then, she understood it now that she had her heart broken and her affair ended with Steven finding another yet younger women to replace her. With her and Monica nearly the same age and with President Clinton a few years older than Stephen, now she understood why Monica Lewinski was attracted to an older, powerful, and influential man in the way that she was so attracted to Steven. Even while she was having sex with Steven, she failed to grasp why Monica Lewinski, a 22-year-old White House intern at the time, would give President Clinton a blowjob. Other than power and influence, what in the Hell did she possibly see in him? Well, what she saw in him was what she saw in Steven, a father figure. Moreover, the other side of the coin, she didn't understand why President Clinton would risk everything he worked so hard to build for the affections of a woman young enough to be his daughter. Duh? Steven was the same way. Not leaving his wife for her, yet willing to risk losing everything to have sexual relations with her, he couldn't wait to hide back in his cocoon of security and morality once their affair ended. Yet, just as Steven has a history of bedding his university students, Bill Clinton had a perverse history of that inappropriate behavior of bedding government employees when he was the Governor of Arkansas. Much like in the way of a dirty dog, learned behavior never changes. Moreover with men bedding younger women all through history, President Clinton did nothing more than what he was expected and thought what he was supposed to do. Now that his wife is as powerful as he once was, she wouldn't be surprised if Hillary had lovers too. Only, in her case, adding credibility to the rumors, maybe her lovers are female lovers instead of male lovers. It would be ironic if Hillary was a licker instead of a sucker. Having had her epiphany why she did what she did then in having sex with Steven and continues to do now in having sex with young men, it all made sense to her now. In a clarity of enlightenment, she now knew what she must do to heel herself. She must have sex with young men in the way that Stephen did and in the way that so very many older, rich, powerful men have sex with young, beautiful women. This was her turn to fly. In her twisted mind, this was her turn to not only get even with Steven but also to get even with all men. Before the secrets of her sexual success in her ability to bed young, handsome men was revealed to her through her knowledge of psychology, psychiatry, and philosophy, she was so young, so innocent, and so naïve. So oddly coincidental, just as Susan attended Harvard Medical School in Cambridge, Massachusetts to not only earn her doctor in medicine but also her PhD in psychology, Miss Lewinski earned her Master's Degree in social psychology at London School of Economics in London, England. With them nearly the same age, with them needing to have sex with older, powerful men, and with both of them studying psychology nearly at the same time, maybe they had even more in common than she realized. Strangely enough, in the way that she plays those sexy, sexual games with young men now, and in the way that Monica played older man with younger women games then, being that she studied psychology too, she wondered if Monica still played older woman with younger men games now. Yet, now with Dr. Parker's sexual role reversed, and with her being a cougar and the sexual predator, that was then and this is now. To be continued... Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 05 There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. * All about sex. Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding, feeling, fucking, and forgetting about men gets her through her week. Another Saturday night with Susan sitting in another bar having another drink while scoping out another room and looking for another young man, her next victim. A game she enjoyed playing, she always found her young man and never left the bar alone. With so very many young men in a crowded bar, as if the ones who interest her have a neon light shining over their heads, it's amazing how she can spot the ones who want to have sex with their mothers. Matter of fact, as if it is a game and not part of life, if asked, she could go around the room and just by watching their learned behavior tell which man had which psychological problems. In the way that men are attracted to busty blondes, always casting her stare to the good looking men first, after only a few minutes, she spotted one. Sitting there looking like he wasn't having any fun, a young, good looking man sat in the far corner of the room with some friends. He couldn't be more hidden and separated from the crowd if the bar built a special safe room just for him. With him looking off in the distance as if sitting alone in the corner of the room even though he was with a group of his laughing, drunken friends, she spotted him. She recognized the sad, tortured look on his face. The one falling within himself, she found him. Absolutely, he'd be the next man she'd be bedding. With all the subtle clues checking off her psychological boxes, he was so easy to spot. With his shirt neatly ironed and his trousers sharply creased, definitely a Mommy's boy, she just hoped he wasn't still living at home with his mother. A good looking man in his mid-twenties, he looked needy. He looked lonely. He looked sad. He looked ready for her special sexual attention with her pretending to be his mother and him pretending to be her son while he licked her and she sucked and fucked him. Even though he was with people, he looked lonesome. Even though he was laughing on the outside with his friends, he looked gloomy on the inside. Sensing that he'd rather be home with his mother than being at this bar with his friends, she watched him for a while before making her move and giving him her look, the look that always got their attention. It amazed even her that all she had to do was to give them the look. * * * * * It didn't take her very much more than giving him a sexy smile to get his attention. With her knowing that he'd be thinking of seducing his mother if getting lucky with her, all she needed to do was to catch his eye. The most annoyingly complicated part of her seduction was fighting off the men who tried to pick her up while she was more focused on getting this young man's attention. Then, when he noticed her and smiled back at her, right there in the way he looked at her and noticed her with a longer stare, she knew she had him. By the time he finished his drink and found the courage at the bottom of his glass to get up and walk over to her, she had to politely excuse two men who were hitting on her. One man was her age and the other man a little older. She knew what she wanted and it wasn't either of them. She wanted a young man with a cock harder than his hard body. She wanted to play his mother while he played her son. With men's unwanted attention something she had to cope with and endure, some men had a difficult time taking no for an answer. Not wanting to be mean, rude, or cruel, yet for those who were insistent, a simple put down to gently belittle them in private always did the trick. Only, with some men volatile and not doing well with rejection, she was careful what she said to whom. Easy for her to discern which men not to fool with, whether good or bad, they were all so very transparent. She watched him walking over to her. "Hi," he said approaching her as the two men were leaving. "I'm Robert." She watched his eyes go from her big, blue eyes, to her exposed line of cleavage and immediately return upward to make eye contact with her again. "Susan," she said shaking his hand. His soft hand told her that he had an office job. "May I buy you a drink?" Wanting him to want her first but with his obvious uncertainty that he'd get lucky with her, she paused before answering his question and didn't answer him until she made eye contact with him again to give him that look that all men recognized as the eye. "Sure," she said with an inviting smile, "but just the one. I only stopped in for a drink and if I have more than two, well I get a little randy," she said putting a manicured finger to her lip while giving him that look again that obviously told him that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Within in a few minutes, after they made light, nonsensical conversation, and she finished her drink, they were sitting in his car making out. "I love kissing you," said Robert while he felt her big tits through her blouse and fingered her nipples through her bra. Typical, they were all so typical. As soon as they kissed her, and as soon as she wrapped her arms around their necks to return their kiss, as if she wore a sign that read, 'Touch me here. Feel my tits while fingering my nipples through my blouse and bra.' No exception, they all went straight for the tits. Especially with her blouse unbuttoned and with her showing a long line of cleavage that signaled that the fun bag playground was officially opened, all men loved touching and feeling her big boobs through her clothes while fingering her nipples. * * * * * She's going to need an official scorecard or a little black book to keep track of all the men she's been with but already keeping a number in her head and having a good idea of the number of lovers she's had, she really didn't want or need to know how many there were. Unlike men who kept exacting count of all the women they've been with, it wasn't the quantity that was important to her but the quality. With her able to identify those men who yearned to sleep with their mothers and slept with her as their sexual fantasy while pretending she was their mother, she found her sexual niche. If she had her druthers, so long as they gave her an orgasm, she didn't want to remember any of the sexual details of all the men she preferred to forget. There'd be more, so very many more. Every Saturday night, she'll find another, young man who'd help her to forget Steven. Steven, Steven, Steven, all this was about Steven. Even though she pretended to be happy, obviously she was miserable. The adventure of enticing another young man, all in the hunt, was what helped her to forget. Being with someone new while humping and sweating stopped her from thinking about Steven. Feeling a cock, whether in her hand, in her mouth, or in her pussy made her feel something instead of feeling nothing. Dead inside, it's oxymoronic how someone who is so emotionlessly detached in the way of Spock or Dr. Sheldon Cooper of The Big Bang Theory can profess to help others with their emotional issues. It's sad that it takes meaningless sex for her to feel something for another man. Old enough to be his forty-something-year-old mother, his much older sister, or his matronly albeit hot aunt, kissing and kissing him, Susan's hands were all over Robert's young, hard body. In the way that Steven's hands were once all over her young, firm, shapely body twenty years ago, Robert's hands were all over her shapely, womanly body now. What's good for the gander is now good for the goose. Comparatively speaking, as if these young men are all the measure of the man she once loved, cursed to carry the memory of Steven with her for as long as she allowed him to haunt her, she was unable to have sex with anyone without thinking of Steven. Steven, Steven, Steven, with her life all about the love and the loss of Steven, he haunted her as if he was there in the room watching her sucking and fucking every young man she ever sucked and fucked, and, assuredly, there were now hundreds of them. Being that she was a psychiatrist with a doctorate in philosophy, able to come to terms with it by justifying it, she knew her bad, sexual behavior was wrong but she didn't care. She could easily have diagnosed her medical condition and given herself a remedy, but she'd rather wrap her long, shapely legs around a hard bodied, young man than to swallow an anti-depressant pill that would assuredly change her mood and alter her disposition. Besides, this kind of imagined revenge against all mankind was so much sweeter than swallowing drugs, a mere pill, with side effects. The only side effects she experienced with having sex with young men who were young enough to be her son while she pretend that she was their mother was an orgasm. Being that there was nothing wrong with her having an orgasm, her having an orgasm once a week to let loose those endorphins was much better than taking an anti-depressant pill daily. Instead, so long as no one discovered her salacious, sexual secret and called her on her Saturday night extracurricular, sexual activities, she didn't care that she was making a fool of herself. As long as she could use the body of a young man for sex and for an orgasm, she didn't care that he was using her as his incestuous sexual fantasy while pretending that he was having sex with his mother instead of having sex with her. Instead of being rejected by men, she was wanted, lusted over, and desired by men. Instead of a man fucking her and dumping her, she fucked men and dumped them. If she owed Steven anything at all, she owed him her indebtedness for turning her into him, a sexual predator of young, forbidden flesh in the way that he enjoyed her body twenty years ago. In the way that he, no doubt, continues to seduce young women a third of his age now, she seduced young men nearly half her age. If he could get away with that bad sexual behavior than she could too. As if Steven ruined her for other men, with her now living in the Twilight Zone of May/December romances, with her December and her sexual partners May, she wondered if, twenty years from now, when she was sixty-one-years-old, if she'd still be chasing after men half her age. At this rate, if she had sex with 52 men a year for the next twenty years, after already having sex with 364 men, a man a day, conceivably, she could end up having sex with more than one thousand, four hundred men. She wondered what the record was for women having sex with a number of men. Moreover, twenty years from now, if she was still intent on having sex with late thirty-something-year-old to early forty-year-old men, would they still want to have sex with a sixty-something-year-old woman? So fortunately blessed in being able to find some soothing solace and some sexual satisfaction, a bittersweet formula wrought from her pain and endured from her suffering sorrow, as if a tragic character in a Shakespearean tragedy, she wondered if she was forever cursed to only have sex with men nearly half her age. Reminding her too much of having sex with Steven when he was forty-years-old, in the emotional state that she is now, she could never have sex with a man her age or older. Driven by memories in thinking too much of Steven, she couldn't take the sudden similarities and the obvious parallels. She couldn't bear saying the same sweet, sexy things to another man that she said to Steven. She couldn't bear the gift giving holidays and the same nonsensical greeting card sentiments. Being that she gave her heart to Steven and now that her heart was shattered to pieces, even after twenty years, she was unable to mend herself enough to give herself to someone else. So wrapped up with love, romance, marriage, and children, when she lost Steven, she lost all of her dreams of living a normal life. Now done with love, done with romance, and past the age where she could safely have children, she was done with men, so to speak. Being that she earned a good living, all she now needed men for was to give her an orgasm and nothing more. Removed from love and all things romantic, all she now wanted was that fleeting, unexplainable feeling of sexual pleasure. All she now wanted was uncomplicated, random, one night a week sex with a new, young man. All she now wanted was an orgasm so that she could return to work with an uncluttered, focused mind for her to analyze and help her patients without being distracted by horniness while thinking of hard cocks. Although obviously convoluted in her thinking, her way of getting even with Steven and giving all men back for what he did to her by treating some sad, naïve man the same, her sexual pleasure in bedding young, innocent, and sexually inexperienced men seemingly compensated and temporarily eased her emotional pain. Yet, with many psychiatrists admittedly crazier than their patients, she was a doctor not following her own advice or taking her own prescribed prescription. She didn't have to be told, she knew that she'd do herself some good by seeing a professional and telling her or him what it was she did every Saturday night since she graduated from college after Steven ended their romance. Perhaps for the sake of healing herself, now that she was ingrained in her routine, fun to sexually tease them while pretending she was their mother, she didn't want to give up having sex with young men. Being that she was a medical doctor as well as a psychiatrist, as if having sex was clinical instead of emotional, she never formed any attachments to any of the young men she had sex. Just using them, why would she? Just abusing them, why should she? She was just using them to give her an orgasm. They were just her ends to her means. Seemingly a fair trade, they gave her an orgasm and she gave him their sexual fantasy of sleeping with their mother. No doubt, in the way that Steven never formed an attachment to her, even though they were together for nearly all the four years that she was an undergraduate, she was able to distance herself from growing fond of any of the men who gave her sex. It was just sex after all and nothing more than that. Being that she was so hurt and feeling vindictive in wanting to hurt him for hurting her, she wanted to tell his wife about their affair. Instead of her telling his wife, figuring she already knew, in the way that Steven did to her by ending their relationship and moving on to have sex with yet another young women, she moved on to having sex with another young men. With her new dating philosophy already predetermined of finding them, feeling them, fucking them, and forgetting them, she didn't actually start having sex with much younger men until after she finished medical school. Then, once she had her epiphany of insightful enlightenment and now that she knew the secret that men have known for thousands of years, she couldn't keep her hands of young men. Back then, she had sex with men who were in their late teens and early twenties in the way that she has sex now with men who are in their mid-twenties to late twenties now. Her way to forget him, all the while she's with a man nearly half her age, she doesn't think about Steven. Feeling a hard cock in her hand, in her mouth, and deep inside of her pussy, makes her forget Steven. Being that she was so in love with Steven, she didn't think that she could live without him. Yet, now that she's found a way to ease her pain, she's been seducing another young man every Saturday night for years. In the way that she totally gave all of herself to Steven, after he dumped her, shattering it to pieces, he broke her heart, ruined her spirit, and destroyed her ability to love again. Definitely, in the way that a female disciple of Charles Manson was so devoted to him and to the belief of Helter Skelter, she knew she wasn't being normal to be so devoted to Stephen. In the same way that Monica Lewinski was so motivated to do after her affair ended with President Clinton, her love and subsequent loss for Stephen was her reason to study psychology and to become a psychiatrist. Figuring that understanding human nature was her key to not only understanding her own self but also heeling her heart, eventually, the best solution she came up with was to follow in Steven footsteps by having sex with young men in the way he had sex with young women. In the way she's been sexually acting out her loss of the love of her life by having sex with a small army of young men, and by focusing on that one part of a relationship, sex, it's as if she's taken up residence in the Devil's playground. Having sex with a different young man every Saturday night, is as if she's sold her soul to the Devil by sexually using and emotionally abusing young men in the way that she was so used in abused. In the way that Steven did to her, now she breaks the hearts of young men who are just as vulnerable to her now as she was vulnerable to Steven then. She receives some sort of sexual satisfaction when they beg her to stay and she leaves. Having sex with young men nearly half her age was her psychological, twisted payback not only to Steven but for herself and to the older man younger woman stigma as a whole. No longer a naïve college coed, it was her turn to have some sexual fun. A philandering, female predator, it was her turn to be the player, the cougar, and the seductress instead of the one being used by a seducer and played. * * * * * As if he was already naked and on top of her while humping her and pounding her pussy with his erect cock, her hands traveled down Robert's broad back to cup, squeeze, and feel his firm pants and underwear clad ass in her hand. In the way that Steven ran his horny hands all over her hot ass so long ago, she ran her hands all over Robert's hot ass. In the way that she has a thing for young men's, firm asses and has a thing for Robert's ass now, Steven had a thing for her round, panty encased, firm ass. Steven loved her shapely ass enough to buy her an entire underwear drawer of panties, all styles and all colors. So enamored with her cute, tight ass, he loved it when she paraded in front of him topless with her big tits bouncing, jiggling, and swaying while just wearing her bikini panties. Normally something a man does, feeling her ass before sliding a slow hand between her legs to cup her pussy, but with her being more the predatory seducer and the sexual aggressor than he was, she took the sexual lead in seducing Robert while feeling his ass. A swimmer and an ice skater, he had such an incredible ass. Kissing and kissing him, her hand felt his muscular chest before reaching down to feel his hardening cock through his pants and underwear with her horny hand. With her fingers fondling the head of his throbbing penis, she gave him that come hither and ready to fuck look. Sending him a clear message that she wanted to have sex with him and with her already there in his apartment for that expressed reason, there was no mistaking that her intentions weren't honorable but sexual. As if setting the tipped apple cart upright and tying her boat tight enough to the dock for it not to rock too much and take on enough water to sink it, she sexually used and emotionally abused young men in the way that Steven sexually used and emotionally abused her. Taking out her anger on them and as if paying them back for the rejection she had to endure, having sex with young men was the only way she could find peace, comfort, and sexual satisfaction. In the way that she imagined Steven kissing her, Robert's hands were all over Susan's shapely body while kissing and kissing her. He felt her breast through her blouse and bra while kissing her before feeling her ass through her short skirt and panty. Then, as soon as her nipples made their hard, erect appearance, as if he was playing with the knobs of his car radio, he fingered those too. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 05 She loved being felt up through her clothes while kissing her young lovers. While imagining he was Steven making love to her, she knew that Robert imagined that she was his mother making love to him. In the way that she knew that he'd love to do this with his mother, she loved Robert feeling her tits through her blouse and fingering her nipples through her bra while kissing and kissing her. Following her lead when she felt the length and girth of his hardening cock through his pants, he moved his hand up her short skirt to cup her panty clad pussy in his hand while kissing and kissing her. Touching her hard enough through her panty with his finger to make her quiver, she felt his finger trace her pussy slit through her panty before he pushed down harder on her clit. Then, slipping her panty aside with his finger, he tested her warm wetness before rubbing her clit and impaling her pussy with his long, stiff, index finger. If he didn't know he was getting lucky before, he certainly knew that he was getting lucky now. In the way she had him eating out of her hand at the bar, soon to be eating her pussy in his bedroom, she had him now. With him feeling and fingering her already moist pussy through her panty and inside of her panty, absolutely and without a doubt, he was about to get lucky. With all of the foreplay and intimacy happening so fast, no doubt not believing his good fortunate, he had just met her in a bar not more than an hour ago and here she was in his car allowing him to touch and feel her wherever he wanted to touch and feel her. In the hot, sexy way that she looked, in the educated and professional way that she carried herself, and in the articulated way that she spoke, most guys would never believe that they could bed someone who looked like her. Most young men would never think and even believe that someone who looked like her would want someone who looked like them. Yet, what they had in their favor was something elusive and something that older men no longer possessed. They had youth. They had stamina. They had fit physiques instead of soft, flabby bodies. Capable of multiple orgasms and having sex for hours, they had hard cocks. Especially when with an older woman and especially with those young men who yearned to have sex with their mothers, they had that wanton, horny passion to complement their sexual inexperience. They had the pulsating, sexual desire that massive quantities of testosterone flowing through their veins created in the way of a seething volcano before erupting in multiple ejaculations. They had rock, hard cocks that remained hard even after they ejaculated. They had that innocence that she once had. They had all that she wanted in a lover and all that she once had with Stephen. "I love kissing you too," said Susan playing her part while feeling his cock through his pants. "Let's go to your place," she said hoping he had his own apartment, one without a roommate, a girlfriend, a wife, and/or a mother. "Shall we?" Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 06 There are no characters under the age of 18 in There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. * All about sex. Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding, feeling, fucking, and forgetting about men gets her through her week. 'Steven, Steven, Steven. Oh, Steven. Oh, Steven,' she thought to herself while wondering where Steven was as she kissed and felt Robert. 'Wherefore art thou Steven?' Unable to get him out of her head, even after twenty years, whenever she was with a young man, unable to help herself, she always thought of Steven. For the hour or two that she was with them, as if lost in a vortex of youthful and forbidden sexuality, young men nearly half her age made her feel younger instead of older. In the way that men her age and older men made her feel older, and in the way she must have done for Steven by making him feel younger, she felt young again when with a much younger man. More than that, with their hard cocks always at the ready and eager to go again and again, younger men gave her all that she wanted while she gave them all that they needed. Just the feel of his hard body and supple skin instead of feeling the flabby bodies and wrinkled skin of most men her age and older, having sex with a young, twenty-something-year-old man didn't make her feel 41-years-old. With her already looking thirty-something, instead of feeling and acting her age, she felt like a twenty-something-year-old woman too. Instead of making her feel not only rejected but also betrayed in the way that Steven had, in the way these young men looked at her, touched her, and felt her while kissing and kissing her, younger men made her feel wanted. Making love to a younger man made her forget about all the men her age and older who routinely asked her to lunch, dinner, and/or more. Then, when she threw the mother and son roleplaying in the mix of the sexual equation, that incestuous fantasy brought their love making to an even higher level. Especially with them having just met, always in a good mood while having a good time, being that it was only about sex, never did they argue or diminish their sexual desire by being in a bad mood. There wasn't any time for conflict and/or for them to get into a serious discussion about explosive topics such as religion or politics as these men would be replaced with a new man next week. Recapturing that first date, that first kiss, that first touch, and that first sexual intimacy over and again, she did that by taking a new partner to bed every Saturday night. By taking the best part of a sexual relationship and abandoning and forsaking the rest, her young lovers made her feel loved and desired. They made her feel sexy. They made her feel special and when naked and in bed with them for that hour or two. Indeed, with them kissing her, licking her, and touching her everywhere, she felt very special indeed. Forgetting her problems for the few hours she spent finding, feeling, fucking, and forgetting men on a Saturday night, what she did once a week helped her get through the rest of the week. Otherwise alone and lonely, her weekly ritual helped her to live without Steven by replacing the thoughts of him with an orgasm. Steven, Steven, Steven, with her dating men nearly half her age, all of her inappropriate sexual behavior is because of Steven. Now that she was older and being that she walked a mile in his shoe, she finally understood why Steven wanted someone like her. Further, she now understood why she so wanted to have sex with young men nearly half her age. More importantly, she now understood why Steven rejected her for someone younger. Not wanting her enough to disrupt his life and leave his wife to marry her, too young, too inexperienced, and too upset to understand before, it was all clear to her now. Why tear down all that he's worked so hard to build in his marriage with his wife when he could have someone like her on the side. Having his cake and eating it too, she was his decadent dessert with his cherry on top without having to worry about the unnecessary fat and calories? Taking her or leaving her, there was another young, pretty, sexy woman in the wings waiting for her to step aside. Thinking that she was the only one then, obviously, she knew differently now that there were others, so very many others. In the way her Saturday night men were just someone she used, she was just another woman for him to abuse. 'Next!' As if she was a customer in a meat market, Steven butchered her heart and she allowed him to do that to her. In the way he made her feel so special and with her truly believing that he loved her, she was just his sexual plaything, his experiment, and his last look back into the past to feel what it was like to be young again. Replaced with another young lover who didn't complicate his life in the way that she obviously had, and with him not wanting to get too close, she was expendable and replaceable. Just as he meant so much to her, she meant nothing to him. It was just about sex with him after all and in the way that it is now with her with young men. Sex, sex, sex, nothing more than sex, it was all just about sex with no commitment, no connection, no hearts and flowers, and without exchanging flowery sentiments, gifts, and/or romantic or funny cards. A giant leap forward for her in understanding her past with Steven, not only did she finally understand that he didn't love her, she understood why he didn't love her. The hard, harsh truth to accept then that she readily accepted now, even though it was obvious that he was quite fond of her and sexually attracted to her, sadly, he never loved her. Possibly because she made him feel torn and guilty cheating on his wife, maybe he didn't even like her for that expressed reason. Yet, as soon as he broke up with her, cursed to continue where she left off, another young coed took her place. She felt so stupid. She felt so used. She felt so angry that he didn't love her even though he said he did. Unable to get over him, even now twenty years later, she still thinks of him, especially when there's another cock in her hand, in her mouth, and/or in her pussy. Always comparing all of her young lovers to Stephen, he ruined her for other men. Doing it all over again was his modus of operandi in the way that her having sex with a different young man every Saturday night was her modus of operandi. Now two peas in a perversely, perverted pod, they deserve one another. If only she knew he still wanted her, maybe she'd relent, call him to meet him somewhere, and begin a romantic, sexual relationship with him again. Yet, now that he was older, sixty-years-old instead of forty-years-old, in the way that she now couldn't be with older men, she figured that he couldn't be with her now that she was older. With her thing now young men, his thing was for young women, women who are much younger than she is now. Other than just for sex, she was so stupid to think that a man like him would want a woman like her just as the men she beds now, other than just for sex, are stupid to think that a woman like her would want a man like them. Now with her walking a mile in his shoes, it took her to bed a multitude of men nearly half her age for her to see the truth about him and the reality why a much older man would want a much younger woman. With her the cougar and him the gigolo and with each of them using their powerful positions to seduce young men and young women, now she was just as bad as he was. Even though she weekly sucked and fucked all of these young men, she'd never want a steady, daily diet of any of them, especially while tied down to them with a ring around her finger and a vow she made till death do they part. Even though she sucked and fucked all of these young men, in the way that they and Steven licked and fucked her, in the way that Steven didn't love her and never loved her, she didn't love and would never love any of them. In the way that it was obviously just sex to Steven then, it was just sex to her now. A life lesson well learned and with her having wasted so many years pining over Steven, she painfully gets that lesson in life now. "Steven, Steven, Steven, regrettably, I'm still helplessly in love with you," she said for no one to hear. * * * * * Touching, feeling, fondling, and caressing one another everywhere through their clothes, all part of their seductive foreplay, once they got to his place, they couldn't get their clothes off fast enough. Only, this poor, young man had no idea that Susan didn't need any seductive foreplay to be ready for deeply penetrating, probing sex. With her already aroused, he could have torn off her clothes and fucked her right there on the carpet or bent her over the table and taken her from behind, so long as he didn't fuck her anally. With no other cock knowing the sexual pleasure of her anal cavity, her ass still belongs to, is still reserved for, and is still the personal property of Steven Stevenson Stevens. With her excited about going home with yet another young, handsome man, she was already wet and ready to be licked and fucked hard. Needing his fingers, his tongue, and his hard cock so bad, she had been waiting for this orgasm since last Saturday night after all. "Undress me Robert. Strip off my clothes. Get me naked and make me your woman," she said feeling his erection through his pants. "Make me your bitch. Make me your whore. Even better than that," she said watching his reaction to what she was about to say. Leaning forward, while knowing what she was about to say was very naughty albeit would be well received, she whispered in his ear. "Pretend that I'm your mother and do the things to my naked body that you've always wanted to do to your mother's naked body." He looked at her with as much shock as he looked at her with sexual excitement. "My mother? Really?" As if she had just spoken the secret word on the Groucho Marx show, he stared at her before speaking again. "I'd find it so very sexually arousing to pretend that you're my mother and that I'm about to have sex with my mother, Susan," he said looking at her as if he couldn't believe she told him to pretend that she was his mother. "Seriously? You want me to pretend that you're my mother?" As if she really was his mother, she looked at him and smiled. "Yes," she said giving him a sexy smile. "You don't have to call me Susan. Instead," she looked at him again while watching for his reaction. "Call me Mom, mother, or Mommy, whatever you call your mother and whatever you'd like to call me. Only, when you're unbuttoning my blouse, unzipping my skirt, removing my bra, and taking off my panties, pretend that you're stripping your mother naked instead of stripping me naked," she said whispering her words in his ear before sticking her tongue inside and softly blowing. * * * * * With Susan looking several years younger than her chronological age, yet looking old enough to interest him as his obviously much needed mother figure, had she become pregnant young enough, chronologically, she was nearly old enough to be Robert's mother. In the way that he looked at her, kissed her, touched her, felt her, and was attracted to her, she already knew that part of his sexual attraction to her was that he always wanted to have sex with his mother. If any of these young men was to show any further interest in her, and having the psychiatric credentials to support her diagnosis, she only need remind them that it was their mother that they wanted and not her. Only, in the way that she was so enamored with and sexually attracted to younger men, how she so loved sex and was so sexually thrilled to feel a young, hard prick inside of her, she was like no mother they had ever had. Paying as much attention to his erect prick as he paid to her big tits, she reached her hand inside of his underwear to hold him before pulling him out to slowly stroke him. Looking down and staring at his hard cock in the way that he was staring at her naked breasts, she loved playing with a man's penis while he fondled her tits and fingered her nipples. Cupping his testicles in her hand, she enjoyed having control of her man in the palm of her hand. With the promise of him licking her before fucking her to an orgasm, she couldn't wait to take him in her mouth to suck him. Perhaps, in the way that he undoubtedly fantasied having sex with his mother, when not fantasizing about having sex with Steven, she fantasized about having sex with her son, that is if she had a son but she didn't have any children. With her so busy in her work, making hospital rounds in a teaching hospital, managing her private practice, and seeing her patients, there was no room in her life for anyone, not even a pet, but for herself. Selfishly content and personally committed, not her mother, not her sister, and not any of her friends, she was the most important person in her life. But for the color of her hair and the drugs that the woman consumed in the song, the Eagles said it best in describing her on prowl looking for her young man on a Saturday night when they wrote their song, Witchy Woman. "Raven hair and ruby lips, sparks fly from her fingertips. Echoed voices in the night, she's a restless spirit on an endless flight. Woo hoo, witchy woman, see how high she flies. Woo hoo, witchy woman, she got the moon in her eye. She held me spellbound in the night, dancing shadows and firelight. Crazy laughter in another room and she drove herself to madness with a silver spoon." Then the Eagles described her again, this time with Steven playing his role as a Casanova when they wrote Lyin' Eyes. "City girls just seem to find out early, how to open doors with just a smile. A rich, old man, and she won't have to worry, she'll dress up all in lace and go in style. Late at night, a big, old house gets lonely. I guess every form of refuge has its price. And it breaks her heart to think her love is only given to a man with hands as cold as ice. So she tells him she must go out for the evening to comfort an old friend who's feelin' down. But he knows where she's goin' as she's leavin'. She is headed for the cheatin' side of town." * * * * * Now with her serving her role as his surrogate mother, Robert didn't have to confess his dirty little secret or his sexual fantasy to her for Susan to know about his secret mother and son sexual fantasy too. She already knew that he wanted her because she reminded him of his mother. The reason why she was with him now, she had already pegged him in the bar as another young man who yearned to have sex with his mother. Easy for her to discern, after all of the sexual experience she's had combined with her extensive training in psychology and psychiatry as well as philosophy, she was an expert with men, especially with younger men who yearn to have sex with their mothers. Obviously, being that she chose him to sexually pleasure her tonight, she suspected that he wanted to have incestuous sex with his mother. Moreover, she knew that he'd readily transfer his sexual feelings that he had for his mother to her. Based solely by his telling behavior at the bar, the reason why Susan chose Robert was because she could tell, even from afar, that Robert was the type of young man who'd have sex with his mother if he could. Even though they had never met before and had just officially met now that they were nearly naked, just by studying his learned behavior for a few minutes, she could tell and she knew, that he had a sexual, mother fixation. Something he hid from his friends and from those not professionally trained, if only by his learned behavior that she observed for only a few minutes at the bar, his wanting to have sex with his mother was obvious to her. Granted, an expert at recognizing and at observing such perversely incestuous behavior, she was specifically watching for such telling signs to his sexual secret. Definitely, in the way that she wanted to have sex with her father so very long ago and allowed her sexual desires to manifest with Steven, he wanted to have sex with his mother, which is why he was having sex with her now. In the way that Steven was her surrogate father then, she was Robert's surrogate mother now. With all of his telling signs consistent with other young men she's bedded who had such a mother and son sexual fixation, she could spot those men who loved their mothers and who wanted to be incestuously and sexually intimate with their mothers a mile away. With some men fixated on their aunts, their sisters, their grandmothers, their cousins, and/or their teachers, being that their sexual attraction all stemmed from the same place, their mothers, it didn't much matter who the women were. In the same way that Malcolm McDowell did as Alex in Stanley Kubrick's Clockwork Orange, these men so sexually wanted women who were older and more mature, motherly figures. They displaced their feelings of love, sexual attachment, and sexual attraction to them in the way she knew they'd displace their sexual feelings of love, sexual attachment, and sexual attraction to her. Being that she was older and an ideal candidate for their attraction, still so very beautiful and sexually appealing, she could serve and change her role accordingly to their wants, needs, and desires. She could be anyone they wanted her to be while she pretended that they were all Steven. Steven, Steven, Steven, her unrequited love, it was obvious to her that she was still in love with Steven. No matter if it was their aunts, their grandmothers, their cousins, their sisters, their teachers, or her, she knew that they all wanted to have sex with their mothers and would if the opportunity ever presented itself. With mothers, short, tall, obese, thin, young, or old, not giving a care to what their mothers looked like, appearance didn't much matter. What mattered was the fact that they were their mothers that was important thing. As long as they were having consensual sex with their mother, that was the sexually exciting and important piece of the sexual equation. In their mind's eye, it was the fact that the woman they were bedding or wanted to bed was their mother. Seeing her role as a cougar as a way for her to psychologically help these poor, lost, young men while they sexually helped her, she didn't see what she did as harmful. Unless the man grew an immediate romantic attachment to her in the way she did with Steven, playing into their sexual fantasy, she was giving these men nothing more than a wonderful sexual memory along the path of life that they must travel. Truth be told, even though she wanted no part of that herself, she got off more with those men who wanted a more committed relationship than just a one night stand. Truth be told, a demented game she enjoyed playing in rejecting them, in the way that Steven rejected her, she enjoyed shooting those men down, who wanted more of a long-term romance than a one night stand. Being that people's behavior was part and parcel to her learned career, experienced in observing behaviors and in behavior modification, she was able to tell a lot of things from a mere, prolonged, stare across a crowded room. As if watching monkeys in the wild, men were no different in their behaviors than apes and baboons. Actually, with many of the apes and baboons more family oriented and able to commit, they showed more loyalty than did most men. She observed male humanity at their most relaxed state from afar, while they drank copious amounts of alcohol, made asses of themselves in flirting with women, and talked too loudly and laughed too much with their friends. It was obvious to her that they all wanted attention, no doubt, the attention they never received from their mothers. As if pounding their chests with their hands in the way that gorillas do, they wanted, no they demanded attention from women. By her trained observations and recording her discovers later in her notes, she could tell a lot from just a glance and even more as she continued watching, long before she even engaged them in conversation. It was those quiet moments when the men didn't know they were being observed and when always fell within themselves that they revealed more of their nature and inner secrets. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 06 Based on the Oedipus Complex that was brought to world attention by Sigmund Freud, inherently, she knew that some men would rather bed their mothers than to bed women their own age? Yet being that it's just a sexual fantasy, for one reason or another, mostly opportunistic, especially if their fathers were in the way, most men would never have sex with their mothers. That being said, she served a role in their sexual development or sexual stagnation, whichever way one looked at it. So long as they gave her what she wanted, an orgasm, she'd give them what they needed, sex with an attractive mature woman who pretended to be their mothers. If a young, attractive man hooked up with her instead of hooking up with an attractive woman his age, chances are good that he wanted to experience the mother/son sexual fantasy with her. Using that mother/son intimate, incestuous, sexual need to her advantage, as if picking the best flowers from a field of dying daisies, it was easy for her to spot her intended prey. Knowing they were easy to seduce, the quiet, sullen ones were the young men she watched and most wanted. Deep waters run deeply silent for a reason but with her psychological training, it was as if she could clearly see their dark waters and troubled thoughts all the way to their murky bottom. The ones who stayed hidden in the corner and, even though they pretended to participate in the antics of their drunken friends, she knew they were the ones that were ripe for the taking. As if they were there alone with their bad selves, trying to fool themselves while deceiving everyone else that they were having a good time, a telling sign, over and again, she'd watch them fall silent within themselves when no one else was looking and/or paying attention to them. In every bar she went and in every corner of the room, there were so very many of these tortured men waiting for her to kiss them, touch them, feel them, undress them, and fuck them as if she was so chosen to be their surrogate, sexual mother. With so very many mothers responsible for screwing up their sons, she reaped the sexual benefits of their screwed up childhoods by having sex with the young men who were dying to bed her. Perhaps because of what happened to women with their broken marriages and failed relationships, mothers ruined their sons for other women by pampering their sons as if they were still their babies instead of grown men. To be continued... Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 07 There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. * All about sex. Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding, feeling, fucking, and forgetting about men gets her through her week. Another Saturday night with another young, handsome man picked up at the bar, Susan was intent on satisfying her weekly, sexual itch by going from one man to yet another. Always excited about it before the seduction, she soon became blaise about the whole thing. After a while with none of them standing out enough for her to remember any of them, they all looked alike, acted alike, and said the same things. After a while, but for the sexual excitement of her orgasm, she was bored. Every Saturday night, choosing her victims randomly but with the learned skill of a doctor who knows how to read human behavior, she inherently knew the ones who'd want to play her sexy games of role play. With just a subtle look, she could tell the men who'd want to sleep with their mothers and would if they could. Filling that incestuous need, she was there for them. Yet, with her having had sex with so very many young men, sometimes forgetting their names while having sex with them, she's called more than one man by the wrong name. After a while, especially with her having just met them, it was sometimes difficult to remember the name who she was sucking and fucking. With one young man morphing into another young man, they were just hard cocks to her there to service her, to pleasure her, and to give her a much needed orgasm. After all that she's been through and after all the people problems that she must listen to on a daily basis, becoming detached and unhinged, it's the sexual pleasure of having an orgasm that makes her feel human again. * * * * * As soon as Michael entered his apartment and closed his front door, he kicked off his shoes while she removed his pants. Unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers before unbuttoning his shirt, while kissing and kissing him and feeling his erection through his underwear, he slipped off his pants. Then unbuttoning her blouse and unbuttoning and unzipping her short skirt before removing them both, they barely made it in the door before they stripped one another nearly naked. Now with both of them attired only in their undergarments, there were clothes strewn everywhere. As if they were on their Honeymoon instead of two strangers about to have sex after some chance, Saturday night encounter and subsequent pickup, he escorted her to his bedroom. In the way of removing a shroud from a canvas, he threw his bedspread and blanket aside with aplomb. As if unveiling a precious work of art instead of his sheet covered mattress, he pulled her down on top of him. Kissing and kissing her while touching her everywhere and while she felt him everywhere too, they were so hot for one another. "You're so beautiful Susan," he said kissing and kissing her while touching, feeling, and fondling her full breasts through her bra and touching, feeling, and squeezing her ass through her panty. "Thank you Michael," she said pausing a second to remember his name. "You're so handsome." "Thank you Susan," he said kissing her while reaching down to cup her firm, round ass through her blue, bikini panty. In the way she loved feeling men through their clothes while kissing them, she loved having her tits felt through her bra and her ass felt through her panty. Kissing and kissing him, Susan felt his cock through his underwear while he felt her big tits and fingered her nipples through her bra. Continuing to have his wicked, sexual way with her mature body, Michael's other hand was busy feeling her round, firm ass through her panty. Making her way down his body, while kissing his shoulders, his chest, and his toned stomach, she kissed him everywhere. Then, when her mouth was level with his cock, as if she had found his hard, hairy surprise and she had, she slid her fingertips inside his shorts and pushed his underwear down. With his stiff prick making his stiff appearance, as if his personal periscope probing the surface, she looked up at him before taking him in hand and wrapping her fingers around his cock. Slowly stroking him, she looked up at him to watch his reaction to having sex with her, an older woman. Immediately, without conversation and without delay, where too many women his age just dabble and seldom swallow, that is if even allowing a man to cum in their mouths, she took him in her mouth and stroked him while sucking him. She was giving him a real blowjob instead of just a polite one. Wrapping her lips around his stiff prick with the appropriate enough pressure to make him stare down at her before falling back and closing his eyes, her experienced tongue gave him oral pleasure. Already putting a gentle hand to the back of her blonde, pretty head, he gently humped her mouth. Stroking him faster while sucking him deeper, she was really getting into the blowjob now. As soon as she started making all the slurping, cock sucking sounds that men love to hear to show that she was enjoying sucking him as much as he was enjoying being sucked, putting more pressure to the back of her head, he fucked her face. Being that his hard cock was exactly what she wanted and needed, never mind what he wanted, hopefully he wanted the same thing too, sexual intercourse. With him already hard enough to penetrate her, she was already wet enough for him to penetrate her too. She removed him from her mouth and when she did, he reached for her. After sucking on his family jewels, she climbed up his body as if scaling a second story window. In the way of a cat burglar deftly removing precious jewels from a jewelry box, he unhooked and removed her bra with nimble fingers. As if her nipples were the secret combination to her sexual passion and they were, his horny hands were all over her big nipples. Pulling them, turning them, and twisting them, he made her nipples bigger and harder. Kissing and kissing her while touching her, feeling her, fondling her firm, panty clad ass, and caressing her big tits, he continued fingering her nipples before sucking her nipples. Moving away from him, already ready and not wanting to waste precious time with meaningless conversation, seemingly as if she was doing something naughty in between seeing patients, she removed her panties to expose her blonde, trimmed pussy. "Eat me Michael," she said having to think a second to remember his name again. "Lick my pussy and I'll suck your cock," she said giving him her sexy instruction while whispering her sexual message in his ear. "Give me an orgasm with your lips, your tongue, and your fingers, and I'll let you cum in my mouth. I'll swallow every drop of your cum while licking you clean." A blowjob is what she knew he wanted, no doubt. A blowjob is what he'd pretend his mother was giving him instead of her. After he gave her an orgasm, if she allowed him to cum in her mouth, without a doubt, he'd be thinking of cumming in his mother's mouth. No doubt with the prospect of her not only swallowing but also licking him clean, he immediately got up from bed to move down and make himself comfortable between her long, shapely legs. Fingering her pussy while licking her pussy, he reached up to feel her big tits with one hand while fingering her hard nipples and finger fucking her wet pussy with his other hand. Licking and licking her, he rubbed her clit with his finger and fingered her pussy while continuing to lick her. It's funny how so many men have so many different techniques to accomplish the same thing in giving her an orgasm while giving her oral sex. If she had the time, as if she was Xaviera Hollender from Penthouse Forum fame, she could write a book on the proper technique of cunnilingus. "I see you're a natural blonde," he said with a dirty laugh. "I love your blonde, trimmed pussy Susan. You have a beautiful pussy," he said licking and licking her clit while fingering her. Interrupting her focus while pretending he was someone else, not needing the extraneous pillow talk and with him ruining her sexual mood that she needed to cum, she wished he'd stop talking. "Don't talk," she said grabbing two handfuls of his hair to mash his face in her wet pussy. "Just lick." Licking and licking her while fingering her, in the way that she made love to his cock with her mouth, he made love to her pussy with his tongue and fingers. He made oral love to her pussy for a dozen more minutes before moving his head away to take a breath and to take a break. "Sorry," he said. "I need to blow my nose." Wanting to get to the point of what she was here for and what she so wanted before fleeing, his prick in her pussy to give her an orgasm, she gave him a pardon from continuing to lick her pussy and giving her an orgasm with his mouth. As long as he gave her an orgasm with his cock, he didn't have to eat her anymore. Bored and with her mind elsewhere, normally, she'd have an orgasm by now. Only, she was bothered, baffled actually, that he reminded her of someone but who? In the way that most men prefer, she knew that he'd rather have her suck his cock than for him to lick her pussy. Yet, not to be denied, not there for romance or to develop and continue the pretense of a mature mother and son relationship, she was only with him for him to give her a good, hard fucking and a sexually satisfying orgasm. After that, ready to bolt out the door, she was good to go. After that, in the way that men have dumped her, she was ready to dump him. "That's enough of that then," she said somewhat disappointed that he didn't give her an oral orgasm. Yet with her distracted, it was as much her fault as it was his fault. "After you blow your nose, I want to fuck you. I want you to fuck me. I want you to stick that big, hard cock in my warm, wet pussy," she said obviously able to tell that her dirty talk excited him. With him ready to mount her before she was ready to be mounted and before he took any safe sex precautions, she removed his briefs, pulled out a condom from her purse, and protected herself from him with that tiny piece of latex. Now with both of them naked but for him wearing a condom and with her already wet enough and him already hard enough, instead of having him mount her, she mounted him while reaching beneath her to guide his cock in her pussy. She held his prick in her hand and parted her pussy lips with his stiff cock as if she was guiding her dildo inside of her. After just a few gentle humps, his prick slid right inside of her as if it belonged there. As if she was on a mission, with her wasting no time, and with her directing him and instructing him on how to sexually pleasure her and satisfy her, they quickly found a comfortable rhythm. "Slow," she said. "Easy," she whispered. "Now that you're all the way inside of me, hump me a little harder," she said humping him in the way that she obviously wanted to be humped and needed to be humped to get what she wanted. "That's it, baby. Hump me harder. Fuck me. Fuck Mommy really good and I'll suck your cock until you cum in my mouth." Slowly and rhythmically, she humped him while he returned her humps. Humping and humping him, she took control of their sexual encounter as if she was the man and he was the woman or, more appropriately, as if she was his mother and he was her son. Riding him as if he was a wild Mustang albeit without a saddle, spurs, and a whip, she rode him in the way that she rides the mechanical bull at full speed without falling. Having fucked so very many young men before and with her having the ability to hang on, she had strong thighs, along with total control of her pelvic muscles. Definitely, without a doubt, if judging him by the sexually excited look on his face with his mouth gaping open and his eyes bulging forward, for the promise of him giving her an orgasm, she was giving him the fucking of his young life. With her breasts bouncing and her big boobs swaying and jiggling, she erected her posture and put her head back for him to fill her completely with his cock. He reached up his hands to harness her bucking breasts as if his palms were her bra cups. Then, sliding slow, deliberate fingers across her nipples, he teased them out more with his fingertips before pulling them, turning them, twisting them, and erecting them even more. Fucking his cock, really fucking his stiff prick, controlling his action, she humped him harder and faster. At this rate, once he gave her an orgasm, she'd be done with him soon. At this rate, she'll be out the door and home early to get some much needed sleep from her exhausting week of having listen to her emotionally disturbed patients go on and on and on. Only, seemingly a man not to be denied, now it was his turn to fuck her. Moving her over and doing just what she wanted him to do, instead of making love to her, he mounted her and fucked her deeper and harder. Humping and humping her in the way that she humped him before, as if he was decidedly and decisively showing her that he was the man and he was in control, he was really fucking her now. When he was the one who obviously thought he was the lucky one, if only he knew that she was the lucky one by manipulating him to use him for her benefit. The harder he fucked him, the harder she humped him back and the deeper his cock slid inside of her. Really pounding her pussy now, she was really fucking his cock. "You're so beautiful Susan," he said. She looked at him as if she could read his mind and with most men, not a difficult thing to do, she could. "Instead of calling me Susan," she said pausing to look at him. She wanted to read his reaction to make sure that she wasn't mistaken about him. She leaned down to him to whisper her words in his ear. "Call me mom, mother, or mommy, whatever it is you call your mother, if that will help you to cum," she said playing him while sensing that he was imagining fucking his mother instead of fucking her. A look of excited shock passed over his face long enough for her to read it. "Really?" He gave her a quizzical look. Obviously with his sexual attraction for his mother a deep, dark secret, he was afraid to expose that part of his life to her. Yet, with her a stranger, who better to trust with his secret than her. Having been through this hundreds of times before, she knew the internal struggle he was having in calling her mom, mother, or mommy. She needed to coerce him and compel him she did. "I don't mind doing some role playing with you pretending that I'm your mother," she said looking at him and touching him while cooing over him as if she was his mother. "I don't know if it would be fun for you too but it would be fun for me to imagine that I'm your mother and you're my son," she said. "I'd really like for you to call me mom, mother, and/or mommy," she said not really caring what he'd call her and preferring that he didn't speak at all, just fuck her. Instead of embracing the mother and son role playing, with some men embarrassed by it, some men needed to be cajoled into it. Some men needed to be seduced into allowing a woman to see the perversity they had and hid in their sexual attraction for their mothers. Embarrassed by the emotional attachment and sexual attraction they had for their mothers, some men were ashamed for a woman to know that they'd prefer imagining her as their mother instead of a woman they picked up at the bar. Yet, if only they knew that she was the one who picked them up, with them thinking that they were the man bedding the woman instead of the woman turning the tables and bedding the man, they'd never believe it. Exactly in the same way that a man does, if only they knew that her only agenda was sex culminating in an orgasm, they'd be surprised. With them thinking that they were the lucky ones, she was the lucky one to have finally unlocked the secret that older men have had in having sexual success with younger woman. Only taking their sexy secret to an extreme, unable to perhaps afford it and/or to deal with the relentless chase, capture, and subsequent release, most men didn't have a new, young lover every Saturday night. She already knew that some men imagined their mothers, their sisters, their aunts, their cousins, their mothers, and/or their sister-in-laws while having sex with their wives, their girlfriends, or their significant others. Instead of enjoying the women they're with, they'd rather pretend they were with the women they lusted over. Whether they called her mom, mommy, mother, or by another named, she used that knowledge to entice him to play her role play games. Instead of being turned off by her incestuous suggestion of her Saturday night men to call her mom, mother, and/or mommy, calling her by that was needed and necessary to role play as mother and son. Now at the mere mention that he call her with such familiarity with names reserved only for his precious mother, he looked at her with renewed sexual excitement. In that moment, as if she could read his mind and in this instance, she could, he seemed energized and invigorated. When a transformation of sexual arousal came over his face, without a doubt, he was imagining having sex with his mother. With her giving him permission to call him mom, mother, or mommy, there was a flash of sexual excitement that came over his face in the way she never saw before. It was then that she knew she had chosen the right man. As if there's a silent breath taken where everything is quiet for a moment of introspection, it's that time, those few seconds that Susan doubts herself and wonders about her selection. Will he want to play his role of her son? Will he agree to call her mom, mother, and/or mommy? Then, just as she was correct in reading his behavior for her to select this man, he proved her theory as correct. "You're so beautiful mother," he said looking at her as if he was expecting her to stop him from calling her mother and from continuing to image having sex with his mother instead of thinking of having sex with her. She gave him her best motherly smile while running her hand through his hair as if comforting him in his time of sickness. "You're not so bad yourself Michael," she said returning his humps while playing his pretend game of incest. "You're a good son to give a mother what she really wants, a hard cock in her pussy, and what she really needs, an orgasm." As if she turned on a button that animated him, he looked at her with lustful desire and began humping her as if he was reenergized and plugged into a wall socket. "You're my sexual fantasy come true," he said looking at her as if she really was his mother. "Stuff like this never happens to me," he said. "Not only are you so beautiful but you love to play sexy, role playing games of a son having sex with his mother. That's so hot." She rolled her eyes without him seeing and looked bored without him noticing. If only he knew she was playing him for her to get the most out of this brief sexual interlude, she wondered what he'd say. She wondered if he'd care and if it would matter that she didn't perceive him as her son in the way that he perceived her as his mother. Probably not, with him already too sexually excited to care, being that he was content pretending to have sex with his mother, it wouldn't matter. "Stuff like what?" Not even having to ask the question, she knew what he meant. Other than receiving orgasms from strangers, if she had a dollar for every man who satisfied her on all levels, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and sexually, she'd have a dollar. The only man who made her feel like a woman was Steven but he dumped her. The only man she wanted to marry was Steven. Only, he didn't want her. Instead of accepting her love and cherishing her heart, he rejected her for someone younger. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 07 The fall from his good sexual graces and the end of their romantic relationship was similar to her falling off of a mountain or plunging from a skyscraper. Wishing she was dead, just going through the motions of living her life without him, for years she felt dead. Even after twenty years of spending her life trying to replicate those special moments and sexual feelings with someone else, no matter how many men she fucked and sucked, there was nothing there but emptiness and sexual frustration, even after they gave her an orgasm. As far as she was concerned, her one and only, there was no other man like Steven. Steven, Steven, Steven, obviously, she's still in love with Steven. "A woman picking me up in a bar, allowing me to take her back to my place, and not minding me calling her mom, mother, or mommy has never happened to me before," he said. "I imagine us having so much fun playing role games with you pretending to be my mother and me pretending to be your son. Maybe we can play you being my aunt and me being your nephew. I'd like that. Or you could be my sexy cousin staying with me while in town. Wow, how hot is that?" Already too possessive, he was obviously thinking of them as a couple and thinking about them seeing one another again. She looked at him and smiled. Seeing herself in him when she was that age, he was so young and so naïve. In the way that Steven was able to manipulate her thoughts, she knew she could manipulate his thoughts too. "Actually, if I remember correctly, with you coming over to me, you're the one who picked me up," she said with a laugh. She had sent him enough sub-conscious signals for him to think that picking her up was his idea. Perhaps by her smiling at him and giving him the eye, he thought otherwise. Perhaps because she allowed him to paw him in his car while kissing her, he figured she was easy. Perhaps because she so readily agreed to go to his place, he thought she was a slut, a whore, or a married woman cheating on her husband. "No matter who made the first move, I'm just glad that you're here with me now," he said obviously looking at her in the way that she imagined him looking at his mother, his aunt, or his cousin when he caught them totally naked. "Me too," she said continuing to hump him as if she was fucking all men instead of just the one. To be continued... Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 08 There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. All about sex. Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding, feeling, fucking, and forgetting about men gets her through her week. * Now that she knew that so very many men want to have sex with their mothers, she thought about doing more research on the subject. She thought about doing an official study on the phenomena of mother and son sex in the way that Dr. Sigmund Freud did so long ago. With her having role played with every young man she's bedded while pretending she was their mothers and they were her sons, she wondered how many of the hundreds of young men she bedded actually had sex with their mothers. It's one thing to role play but it's something else entirely to go through with having sex with their mothers. After they all so willingly demonstrated their eagerness to role play having sex with their mothers, she wouldn't be surprised if a high percentage of men have had some sort of sexual contact with their mothers. Be it just voyeurism and exhibitionism with looking and flashing, and/or kissing and touching, it wouldn't surprise her if men have leaned over the incestuous line without actually taking a step across the line. Even she was surprised by how many young men were emotionally attached enough to their mothers to want to have sex with them and/or to imagine having sex with them while masturbating themselves. Being that she's already done so much in depth sexual research on the subject, no pun intended, it would be interesting to learn more about the phenomena of mother and son sex. Having accidentally stumbled on the issue of mother and son sex as her way to achieve an orgasm, her physical need for sexual pleasure has now become more than that. She wondered what percentage of mother and sons have had sex and how that percentage equates to other family members having sex, fathers and daughter, brothers and sister, aunts and nephews, uncles and nieces, and first cousins with first cousins. She wondered if it was more the mothers than the sons who initiated the initial sexual contact. She wondered if it was more the sons than the mothers who welcomed the sexual exchange and encouraged the sexual interaction. She wondered if having sex between a mother and her son was a onetime sexual thing or if it continued over weeks, months, and years. Curious to how it started, she was just as curious as to how the incestuous relationship ended or if it still continues. If it did end or was a onetime type of thing, did it end on good terms or bad terms? With her standing behind a two way mirror to remain anonymously oblivious in her attempt not to skew her study, should she be recognized by one of the participants, she wouldn't want them to know that she was there watching what they'd do. Being that it was a mother and son sexual study, if only for curiosity sake, she wondered how many of the men she's had sex with would happen along to volunteer their time to be part of her paid study. A low budget study as far as most studies go, she wondered if she set up a sheet covered couch and a video camera in her lab with a television playing porn movies, how many mothers and sons would feel comfortable enough in that public setting to touch themselves before touching one another. With her having a dish of condoms and a box of new sex toys readily available on the coffee table in front of them, maybe they'd be bold and horny enough to have sex right there in her lab while she recorded them. Curious enough to know for her to fund the study, if given this kind of suggested opportunity, she wondered how many mothers and sons would feel horny enough to actually have sex. Even if they didn't go as far as to have sex, by studying their behavior while they were watching a porn movie and perhaps having an open discussion about mother and son sex, she could learn more about the subject. If given the opportunity, she wondered how many mothers and sons, once they were aroused by the porn movie, would actually have sex not only in her lab but also behind their closed, bedroom doors. Perhaps with the video cameras an uncomfortable and unwelcome distraction, with no way to tell, after opening this Pandora's Box, she wondered how many mothers and sons she'd inspire, cajole, and encourage to have sex when she wasn't there watching. She could have them sign a waiver in advance giving her the right to use her research any way she wanted to use it. With the help of her subject behavioral study data and her incestuous research results, she could write a definitive book on the subject of mother and son sex. She imagined herself becoming world renown, a foremost authority, and incest expert on mother and son sex. She imagined traveling the country and the world lecturing and being invited on talk shows in the way that Dr. Joyce Brothers made a comfortable living doing that. With her even telling the mothers and sons in advance that they were being videotaped, she wondered how many mothers and sons she could tempt to have sex with one another on camera by teasing them with porn movies, sexual aids, and sexual toys. So as to tempt them even more, she could have them complete a brief questionnaire that told her specifically which type of porn videos would sexually excite them and stimulate them enough for them to touch themselves, to feel one another, and/or to have sex with one another. Now seriously thinking more about doing research on mother and son incest to write a book on the subject, she wondered how many of these men she's had sex with while role playing being their mother have had sex with their mothers. She wondered how many of these young men have seen their mothers topless and even naked. For those who have seen their mothers topless and/or naked, she wondered what they thought about when they did see their mothers semi-nude and/or naked. Were they just curious what their mothers looked like without their clothes or did seeing their mothers naked make them horny enough to masturbate or even try to seduce their mothers? Did seeing their mothers so indisposed make them want to have sex with them? Obviously with mother and son incestuous thoughts of sex and actually with incestuous sex so prevalent, she's surprised that no one has done this type of research study before on mother and son incest. Concentrating just on mothers and sons sexual relationship in the beginning, if her study was successful, she could do equivalent studies on fathers and daughters, brothers with sisters, aunts with nephews, uncles with nieces, and first cousins with first cousins. If all were given the same opportunity, she wondered which pairing would more likely have sexual contact in her lab, mothers and sons, fathers and daughters, brothers and sisters, aunts and nephews, uncles and nieces, or first cousins with first cousins. Taking Freud's research a step further, she could become a famous celebrity psychiatrist who specialized in incestuous sex. She imagined having movie stars, writers, directors, photographers, athletes, singers, dancers, politicians and all sorts of other celebrities as her clients. In the way that Alex was put in one at the end of Clockwork Orange, she could open a clinic that dealt entirely and exclusively with incest therapy. Adding to her fame with fortune, once her sexual partners from her sordid past stepped forward to dare try to discredit her, she could chalk all of those Saturday night sexual relationships she had with men young enough to be her sons with her doing research. 'Perfect,' she said to herself. * * * * * Whether giving them a massage, getting them drunk, drugging them with sleeping pills, and/or ticking, play wrestling on the carpet, or playing Marco Polo in the pool, she wondered how many sons have touched and/or felt their mother's bodies whether fully clothed or naked. Deliberately and/or unintentionally, she wondered how many mothers allowed their sons free access to touch and to feel their bodies. Whether they were fully clothed, topless, or naked, she wondered how many mothers pretended they were drunk, drugged, and/or otherwise so indisposed to allow their sons to touch them and to feel them. On the premise and pretense of receiving a massage from their sons, from tickling them, or from playing in the pool, she wondered what more developed from those innocent touches. Being that it takes two to play and even though they haven't crossed that forbidden line of shame, guilt, and remorse yet, if the opportunity presented itself, she wondered how many mothers would willingly have sex with their sons and how many sons would willingly have sex with their mothers. She wondered how many sons have peeped on their mothers dressing, undressing, showering, bathing, and/or masturbating. She wondered what sons thought about when seeing their mothers' nearly naked and/or naked bodies. Were they just curious about what their mothers' looked like naked or did seeing their mothers naked and/or imagining their mothers naked make them horny enough to masturbate and/or cross the incestuous line by making a sexual move? She wondered how many sons have deliberately flashed their mothers their cocks whether flaccid or erect. Upon seeing their sons' prick whether accidental or deliberate, she wondered if mothers stared at their sons exposed pricks or looked away. She wondered how many sons routinely masturbated while thinking about having sex with their mothers. She wondered how many mothers routinely masturbated while thinking about having sex with their sons. She realized, of course, that it wasn't only sons who wanted to have sex with their mothers. Beginning with up skirts and down blouses, incestuously teasing them while flashing them not only sexually but also seductively, she wondered how many mothers have deliberately flashed their sons their naked bodies and/or topless bodies. She wondered how much intentional flashing and/or sexual and erotic teasing culminated in mother and son sex. Whether opening their bedroom door when they knew they were masturbating and/or changing or opening their bathroom door when they knew they were showering, she wondered how many mothers have purposely gone out of their way to see their sons naked. She wondered how many mothers have peeped on their sons dressing, undressing, showering, bathing, and/or masturbating. She wondered what mothers thought about when seeing their sons' naked bodies. Were they just curious about seeing their sons naked or did seeing their sons naked and/or imagining their sons naked make them horny enough for them to imagine having sex with their sons while masturbating themselves? Focusing more on mother and son incest than on father and daughter, brother and sister, aunt and nephew, uncle and niece, and first cousin with first cousin, she believe that mother and son incest was more prevalent. Now that she was thinking more about doing a study on mother and son incestuous sex, with so many acts of incest that go unreported, she wondered about the sexy, albeit forbidden games that mothers and sons played behind closed, bedroom doors. Be it voyeurism, exhibitionism, tickling, teasing, massaging, touchy feely, and/or having incestuous sex, she wondered how widespread mother and son incest really was. If the opportunity was right, she wondered how many mothers and sons would actually have incestuous sex instead of just thinking about having incestuous sex while masturbating over the thoughts of having incestuous sex. Seemingly for her to find a handsome young man who was willing to bed an older woman while pretending that he was having sex with his mother, swept beneath the rug, she imagined that mother and son incestuous sex is more widespread than people think. Hidden in the closet and never discussed in public, embarrassed and/or ashamed, few incest participants and survivors are willing to talk openly about their personal, sexual experiences with incest. What happens behind closed, bedroom doors between a lonely mother and a horny son often goes unreported. Now, if she could shine a spotlight of public attention on such incestuous behavior by conducting her study, she'd like to drag incest out of the closet and bring incestuous sex more in the public eye. By publicizing the forbidden sex, either she'd make it more acceptable by explaining the reason for the incestuous, sexual attraction, or she'd put a stop to it before it even started between a mother and her son. * * * * * "Hi," he said coming up from behind her. "I'm Steven." A lot of men have tried to pick her up and normally, she's not interested but, when she turned to look at him, as if he was an angel, she was taken by him. With his blonde hair and big, blue eyes he was so handsome and oh, so youthfully forbidden. With him surprising her by coming up to her from behind, she didn't even have time to scope him out before he came over to her. Being that he was already now standing there beside her, she wasn't getting a read on him in the way she would have if she had observed his behavior for several minutes from afar. With him not being in his natural habitant with his friends while drinking, laughing, talking, and/or remaining silent, while she watched his behavior, she was a little put off on her game in playing the cougar. "Hi," she said turning to him. "I'm Susan," she said shaking his hand. Certainly, he was one of the best looking men she's ever seen. She couldn't help but wonder what he'd look like naked. She couldn't help but wonder if his cock was as beautiful as was his face. Normally, she doesn't think such things about a man but he was pretty. "May I buy you a drink?" * * * * * And this is how it always begins. She knew that it wouldn't be long before they'd be naked and in bed together. She knew that it wouldn't be long before he'd be giving her an orgasm and she'd be leaving him in the way that she's left all of the others. "Sure," she said giving him a long stare. "I'm old enough to be your mother." She surprised even herself saying. Why did she say that? She couldn't believe she said that. Maybe she felt guilty rocking the cradle because he looked so illegally young. Something she's never said to any of her young men before, she said to him and she didn't know why she said that. As if holding a mirror up to his face, she called him on his sexual attraction to her as if there was something forbidden and wrong with him wanting to sleep with an older woman. "I know," he said. "I like that about you. A younger man with an older woman is very sexy to me." "I'm glad," she said giving him a sexy and seductive smile in that way that only she could. Obviously so mature for his age, he looked so very young. More than that, he looked at her as if he knew her and she wondered if she had bedded him before. Being that she'd never forget someone who looked like him, a male model with a stripper's body, it was obvious that they had never met and didn't know one another. "I've never seen you here before." "I've never been here before," she said. The reason why he's never seen her before is because she hits a different bar and picks up a different man every Saturday night. In two more years, she'll run out of new bars to hit in Boston and would either have to move to a different city or have to start all over again with the first bar she picked up a man on a Saturday night. "Someone so stunningly beautiful, I'd recognize you if I saw you here before but for some reason you look so familiar," he said. "Maybe I've seen you in my dreams," he said making his confession sound more like a line. "Maybe we met before in a different life. Maybe you were my mother back then," he said that caused her to look at him with curiosity. 'His mother? Bingo! That was easy,' she thought. "Funny that you said that because I've been thinking the same thing about you," she said. "Yes, perhaps, I've seen you in my dreams too," she said already playing his game. "Only, I don't think I'd be your mother. If I'd be anything, I'd be your lover," she said with a dirty laugh. She finished her drink and ended her conversation with him before falling in her practice of scoping out the bar. Then, not wasting any time and seemingly not taking no for an answer, he asked her the question that she normally asks men. "Do you want to go back to my place? I don't live far from here. We can walk. It's a nice night for a walk," he said. "We can have a drink there." She looked at him while wondering where it was she saw him before. He looked so young that she wondered how old he was. With him not looking as if he was shaving yet, he looked more like a kid than he did a man. "Sure," she said leaving the bar with him after not finding anyone else in the bar who interested her anyway. "Why not?" * * * * * There was something about him that she liked. Something attracted him to her on a whole different level. Only, having never experienced feelings like this, feelings of love and comfort, she didn't know what it was about him that brought out her motherly urges, feelings that she suppressed when Steven dumped her. He reminded her of someone but who. Actually and oddly enough, with Steven such a handsome man, he reminded her of Steven. Yes, with his blonde hair, big blue eyes, and toned body, he looked like a younger version of Steven. Maybe because they both shared the same first name is what evoked the similarity but not only did he look how she imagined Steven looking at his young age, wearing the same Polo cologne, he even smelled like Steven. If she was to imagine what Steven looked like as a twenty-something-year-old man, he was it. For the first time, she liked a man enough to not only want to talk to him but also to want to see him again. For the first time, she forgot all about her old Steven while about to have sex with this new Steven. "If you don't mind me asking," she said looking at him while trying to guess his age. "How old are you?" If she was to hazard a guess, she'd say that he was twenty-one and not much more than twenty-two. Truly, he looked so young, too young for someone like her to want to bed. "Nineteen," he said. He stopped her in her tracks and, waiting for him to start laughing, she stared at him to see if he was joking. "Nineteen?" Suddenly falling in a defensive mode, she folded her arms across her breasts as if she was a teacher angry with a student. "How did you get served without being carded when the legal drinking age in Massachusetts is twenty-one?" Not believing that he was only nineteen-years-old, she continued staring at him. "I have a fake ID," he said smiling and pulling out his ID and showing her. She slowed her pace before she stopped walking. Having sex with men young enough to be her son was one thing but having sex with a nineteen-year-old teenager would drop her from the cougar category to the pedophile territory. "It does look a lot like you," she said examining the photo by comparing it to his face. A sticky situation, she was ready to say her goodbye to him and return to the bar to look for another man but he was so very good looking and he was obviously so very mature for his young age. "It is me," he said with a laugh. "I glued my picture over someone else's picture and laminated it. It looks real." He stopped walking. "Well, home sweet home. This is it. This is where I live." She looked from him to the apartment building. "Well, to be honest, I haven't had sex with a nineteen-year-old since I was nineteen-years-old and I'm not about to start now," said Susan handing him back his ID. "Actually, to be honest, I've never had sex with a nineteen-year-old before. My first sexual experience was with my college professor. I was eighteen-years-old and he was thirty-six," she said with sadness while remembering their first sexual time together. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 08 Suddenly she felt like Jacqueline Bissett in the movie Class when she discovers that the man she's seeing is not only 17-years-old but also is her son's college roommate. "C'mon, please. Now that you're here at my apartment, why not come inside and have a drink," he said goading her with a gentle elbow to her ribs. "You can pretend that you're my mother and I'm your son," he said making that mother and son reference again but this time with a sly smile. Stunned, she couldn't believe he said that. That was her line. That was something she always said to the young men she pickup at the bar to entice them to give her better sex. What the Hell was that all about? Did he know something about her that she didn't know about him? "Your mother?" She was surprised that he said that when she was always the one to introduce role playing in the sexual conversation. "How can you even afford an apartment in Boston? What do you do for a living?" She followed him through the front door, continued up the elevator, and was inside of his apartment before she could say no to having sex with him. "I'm a part-time server at a downtown restaurant while attending Northeastern University. I'm full-time college student," he said. "My Dad pays the rent." Small world. She worked as a server in a downtown restaurant while she paid her way through college. "I graduated from Northeastern before going to Harvard Grad School." "Harvard? Wow! You must be wicked smart," he said before looking at her with pleading eyes. "So, will you stay?" Stay? His question really should have been, will you have sex with me, Mommy? Please? * * * * * Obviously with so very many young men who wanted to have sex with an older woman while pretending they were having sex with their mothers, it wasn't much of a challenge for her to get what she sexually wanted whenever she needed it. Only, this young man was already there, ready and willing to have sex with her on the pretense that she was his mother and he was her son. Preferring to have sex once a week on a Saturday night with a different young man to a committed relationship, she preferred having sex this way with no connections, no guilt, no remorse, and with little or no conversation. Unfortunately, she knew that once she allowed any man to call her mom, mother, or mommy that he'd be more talkative. He'd want to fill in all the blanks in their role playing with the details of his own sexual fantasy. Unfortunately, her tradeoff, more incestuous conversation while role playing was the price she paid for him to be more aroused and animated in his love making for him to give her an orgasm. Hopefully because he was so much younger than all the others and so much more mature than all the others, maybe he was so much different than all the others. With her making a real connection with him, there was something so familiar about him. There was something about him that she really liked, loved actually. With what she was feeling now, she's never felt like this about any young men. Yikes, with her twenty-two years older than he was, she was more than twice his age. She felt wicked being with him but with her thinking that he was a twenty-something-year-old young man and not a nineteen-year-old teenager, she was okay having sex with him until he told her his real age. When he told her his real age, she could have left but she didn't. With him so very good looking, and with the strong sexual attraction she felt for him, she wanted to have sex with him. "Other than my real mother and my adopted mother, I'd never dare call any woman mom, mommy, or mother, that is, until I called you that," he said. "I never knew my real mother. My Dad had an affair. I'm his love child," he said pocketing his hands while suddenly appearing uncomfortable with the conversation and with his confession. "His wife, my adopted mother, raised me. She couldn't have children. She's a lot older, sixty-years-old." "I see," said Susan. "Well that's quite the story but being that you're lying about your age, how do I know you're lying about being a love child. How do I know that you're lying about never knowing your mother as a pretense to sleep with me?" She thought about the baby she had, Stephen's baby that she gave up for adoption without telling him that she had a baby. She didn't even tell him that she was pregnant. The day she was going to tell him was the day that he broke up with her. She always wondered if he knew she was pregnant. She always wondered if that was why he ended their love affair. She was going to abort the baby right after he ended their affair but, with her being Catholic, she couldn't. She was going to keep the baby and raise the baby herself as a single mother but with the baby always reminding her of Steven, she couldn't do that either. Adoption was her only other alternative. Hoping to put Steven in her past, she gave his baby away. Only, twenty years later, he still haunts her and now this nineteen-year-old man is a grim reminder to what a huge mistake she made for giving her son, wherever he us, up for adoption. Her son would be the same age as this young man standing before her now. With him asking her for sex was as if her son was asking her for sex. For the first time, she felt dirty. She felt perverted. She felt that all that she did in role playing the part of a mother having sex with her son was wrong. Now with the shoe on the other foot, in the way that all of the men she's bedded were eager to role play with her as their mother, she wondered if he was actually her son, if she'd so readily give him sex. She wondered if she had a son his age, if she'd find it too offensive to do what she's been doing, having sex with men young enough to be her sons. "I've always been attracted to my adopted mother," he confessed. "Always trying to see her naked, I was always flashing her my cock," he said. "I've always been attracted to older women and now here you are. Finally, I'll be able to live out my sexual fantasy with you as my mother. Finally, I'll be able to pretend that I'm having sex with my mother." "I see," said Susan. "Tell me this then," she said thinking more about her possible incest study than she was thinking about having sex with him. "Did you ever get to see your adopted mother naked?" "Naked? As much as I tried, no. I never saw my adopted mother naked" he said, "but I did see her topless once when I barged in her bedroom while she was changing. She has nice tits for an older woman. The funny thing is that instead of covering herself, she just stood there. Knock the next time, she said," he said. "So, you never had sex with her then," said Susan "but you always wanted to? Is that it?" "No I never had sex with her but, yes, I always wanted to have sex with her. Yet, even if she offered me sex, I don't think I could have sex with my mother, even if she was my adopted mother." He paused as if he was thinking about having sex with his adopted mother. "She's pretty, even at her age. I'd do her, I guess, if I was drunk enough and horny enough," he said with a dirty laugh. "I see," said Susan talking to him as if he was a patient on her couch. "My dirty, little secret, I must admit that I like calling you Mom while pretending that I'm having sex with my real mother whoever she is and wherever she is, if even she's still alive. If my friends ever knew that I imagined having sex with my mother while having sex with you, they'd think there was something seriously wrong with me. If my friends knew that I wanted my mother in such an incestuous, sexual way, they wouldn't understand. Only, it's different with you. For some reason, maybe with your blonde hair and blue eyes you look much like me but you more look how I imagine my real mother to look," he said. If only he knew that the chances were good that his friends wanted to have sex with their mother too, wouldn't he be surprised. Maybe with young men knowing such things about one another being so sexually attracted to their mothers, they'd be good candidates for group therapy. Nonetheless his personal, sexual problems, she looked at him in the way that she imagined his mother would look at her son. She looked at him in the way that she imagined looking at her own son. Then, she leaned into him and kissed in the way that no mother would and/or no mother should kiss her son. Immediately, as soon as her tongue probed the inside of his mouth, his horny hands touched, felt, and fondled her big tits through her blouse and bra. "Don't be surprised if you're friends haven't lusted over their mothers too," she said breaking off her kiss to speak. "Imagining having sex with your mother, believe it or not, is a healthy sexual fantasy," she said. "You'd be surprised how many young man fantasize about having sex with their mothers." "I'm glad I'm not the only one sexually fantasizing having sex with his mother, adoptive mother or otherwise," he said with a laugh. "The problem happens when you give into your sexual fantasy and actually have sex with your mother or force your mother to have sex with you. With me not really your mother, what we're doing here, just pretending while role playing, is a much healthier option," she said. "It would take years to unravel the reasons why you had sex with your mother, if you actually did have sex with your mother. She looked at him as if he was really her son and he looked at her as if she was really his mother. "Well, being that I don't even know my mother and being that I only know my adoptive mother but still want to sleep with her, would I be as fucked up if I had slept with her?" "Yes, you would Steven," said Susan with a laugh. "But it's a good thing that you didn't." "You sound like a psychiatrist," he said with a nervous little laugh. If only he knew she was a psychiatrist, she wondered what he'd say. "Psychiatrist? Heaven's no. I'm an English major. I read a lot," she said. "Wow! Awesome," he said. "That would explain you going to Harvard. You must be wicked smart." If only he knew she was more wicked than she was smart. If only he knew he was just another young man in a procession of young men. If only he knew that she's had sex with hundreds of men just like him, only he was different. He wasn't like all the other young men that she allowed to have their wicked sexual way with her body. Wanting to stay with him forever, there was just something about him that made her not want to leave. To be continued... Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 09 There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. * Unbeknownst to one another, Susan has sex with her son. Paying her no never mind that she wasn't a medical professional but instead reads a lot, Steven looked at her in the way Susan imagined him looking at his mother. Already aware that he had a thing for having sex with his adoptive mother, unable to tell without him confessing, she wondered how far he's gone or would be willing to go in seducing his adoptive mother. Being that he was only nineteen-years-old, still just a child really, she suspected that he wasn't sexually sophisticated and/or experienced enough to seduce his adoptive mother. Too much of a line to cross to sample the forbidden fruits of incest, she figured that he hadn't gotten that far in seducing his adoptive mother at all. Most men just fantasize about having sex with their mothers while masturbating over the thoughts of seeing their mothers naked and/or having sex with them. Most men, even though they think they'd have sex with their mothers, step-mothers, and adoptive mothers if the opportunity presented itself, they wouldn't. Even though they routinely masturbate over the thoughts of having sex with their mothers, step-mothers, and/or adoptive mothers, they'd never have sex with their mothers even if offered sex by their willing mother. A forbidden line they'd never cross, be it for reasons of religion or for unacceptable social behavior, most people have limitations in what they do or wouldn't do when it comes to sex, especially when it comes to the taboo of having incestuous sex with a blood related relative. "I like role playing too," she said. "If that's what gets you more aroused and if that's what gets you off, there's no harm done. I don't see anything wrong with me pretending to be your mother while I pretend that you're my son," she said watching for his reaction to her words. "It doesn't bother me in the least if you pretend that I'm your mother. It doesn't bother me in the least with you pretending that you're having sex with your mother instead having sex with me. And it doesn't bother me in the least if you call me mom, mommy, and/or mother, instead of Susan." Suddenly with her expressed permission to continue their role playing game, he obviously became more sexually excited. No doubt, by her offer to agree to continue to play the role of his mother, whomever she was, he seemed ready to play the role of her son. Furthermore, perhaps by her acceptance of having him call her mom, mommy, and/or mother instead of Susan, ignited a flame that burned deep within him. Only, he was so young. Barely of legal age, she's never had sex with someone so very young. Indeed, having sex with him, she'd feel like the sexual predator that she is. Yet, being that he was so young and possibly so sexually inexperienced, she could teach him a few things. Without doubt, she'd give him a memory that he'd never forget. "So tell me Mom," he said putting a finger to her low cut top. He pulled her top down and forward enough to give him a great down blouse of her cleavage and bra. She watched him peering down her blouse. As if playing peek-a-boo with her tits, it was erotically more sexually exciting to have a man tease her while taking his time undressing her. Expecting him to stuff his hand down her blouse and bra to cup her tits while fingering her nipples, she suspected that he's always wanted to do what he was doing now to her to his adoptive mother or to his real mother, whomever she was. He let go of her blouse and allowed her to close the fun bag playground by allowing her to put her hand there. "Tell me. I want to know. Other than your son, who do you pretend I am?" Tit for tat, he shocked her with his question. As if he had some insight into her, that was a weird question for him to ask of her. Why would he even care who she pretended he was when having sex with him? Typically her romantic encounters were all about the men getting what they wanted sexually and never about her. Typically, she always had to break convention of sucking men's cocks for them to give her an orgasm with their mouth and with their cocks before they ejaculated in her mouth and/or in her pussy. Typically, it was men who wanted to be sexually satisfied first, but Susan wouldn't have any of that. For her to give men what they wanted, a blowjob, she had to be sexually satisfied first. Breaking her character as his mother to play her own role as the woman still in love with the man who deflowered her more than twenty years ago, she thought about Steven. "Oh, just some man I knew a long time ago," she said with sadness while eager to change the subject. "Let's have sex, shall we?" Wishing he never started this avenue of conversation with her, he was ruining her sexual mood. Normally not having any conversation before, during, and after having sex, if she was going to talk about anything, she'd much rather talk about him than to reveal anything about her. Truth be told, she didn't like talking about herself, especially at a time like this when they were about to get naked and sweaty. Just like all the rest, she wished he'd just shut the fuck up and give him an orgasm. Only, he wasn't like the rest, he was different. "What was his name?" He looked at her as if he was really interested to know and she felt compelled to answer him. Only she wasn't comfortable with him persisting in this line of questioning. Never forgetting him, a name she wrote hundreds of times while endlessly doodling and forever thinking about him, it's been years since she uttered his name out loud. "Steven," she said, "but I'd rather not talk about him. I'd rather talk about you," she said lying. "I'd much rather talk about us." Truth be told, she'd much rather not talk at all. He looked at her as if he had won the jackpot. "Steven? That's my name too," he said. Wanting to flee from him and from here for him holding up a mirror to her in the way that she's held up a mirror to so very many different men, she looked at him with uncomfortableness. He was ruining her sexual mood. He was ruining everything. How dare he? "I know," she said with sadness. "I'm well aware that Steven is your name but, if you don't mind, I'd rather we not talk while having sex and especially not talk about him. Actually, instead of talking, I'd rather you just silently pretended that I'm your mother while I silently pretended that you're my son. Okay?" Still fully dressed, normally by now, she would have stripped herself naked. Normally by now, he would have been naked too. Obviously, allowing it to get in the way, she was put off because he was so very young. "Okay, no problem. I was just trying to break the ice a little by easing into the sex," he said. Break the ice? What ice? He was dawdling in delaying the sexual experience. With her sitting in his apartment willing, ready, and able to have sex with him, the only chill in the room was created by him asking her about Steven. She looked at him and smiled in the way that she imagined his mother or his adoptive mother would smile at him for saying something so innocent. "Trust me," she said. "I have no ice needing to be broken and/or melted for that matter. If anything, I'm boiling hot for you. I'm seething with sexual passion. Fuck me Steven. Fuck me. Fuck your mother as if I were really her. Show me how much you want your mother by giving me an orgasm and making me cum," she said wrapping her arm around his neck, pulling him to her, and giving him a deep, wet, long, lingering kiss. Perhaps with him obviously needing a baseball bat over the head for her to get her point across that she was ready for sex and was there only for sex and not conversation, he seemed a bit dense that she chalked up to his youth and naiveté. Just shut the fuck up and fuck me, she wanted to say to him but didn't. For some weird reason, something she never did and/or enjoyed doing with any young man, she enjoyed talking to him. Actually, the type of man she preferred, handsome, young, dumb, and hard bodied with a stiff prick, he'd ideally fit her role as her perfect sexual partner if only he'd stop talking. If anything, a first time for everything, she actually enjoyed pretending that he was her son instead of just another young man she met at the bar. "May I undress you?" He looked at her with a look of hope as if expecting her to say no. 'May you undress me? Duh? Tick tock, she looked at her watch. It's about time you did,' she thought to herself but didn't say out loud. "Actually, I'd rather you not ask my permission to undress me. With you the man and me the woman, I'd rather you just start undressing me while kissing me, touching me, and feeling me through my clothes. I'd rather you be the aggressive man that you are instead of being the teenage boy that you no longer are. I dare say that once I make you a real man by having my wicked way with your young, hard body," she said with a dirty laugh, "you'll never ask a woman's permission to undress her and/or to have sex with her again. You'll just take what you want. He moved closer to her and took her in his arms to kiss her while feeling her tits through her blouse and bra. Then, breaking off the kiss, he took a step back to unbutton her blouse. Obviously he wanted to see what he was unwrapping. Looking down at what each unbuttoned button exposed before unbuttoning the next button, he touched, felt, and kissed her while undressing her. Normally, she would have been naked and in bed by now. Normally, he would have been positioned between her legs and licking her pussy by now. Normally, as if she was in a race instead of a marathon, as soon as she had her wicked, sexual way with his young, hard body, she'd be on her way out the door and home. Yet, surprisingly for the first time, she wasn't in a rush. For the first time, she more enjoyed the foreplay than she looked forward to the actual sexual act of him giving her an orgasm. Finally unbuttoning the last button of her blouse, she helped him remove her blouse. Taking his sweet time as if he was a nervous, drunken groom and she was his blushing, virginal bride on his Honeymoon, he stared down at her bra clad breasts before touching them, feeling them, and fondling them through her bra. Obviously by the sexually excited look on his face, he liked her tits. "Wow! You have big tits," he said. She looked down at her breasts before looking up at him staring at her breasts. "I do," she said and already bored that he stated the obvious. Touching and feeling the tops of her breasts, he stuck a finger inside of her bra to finger her nipples, first one and then the other. Then cupping her tits in his hands, he fingered the impressions her nipples made in her bra before stepping behind her to unhook her bra. Leaving her bra in place, he continued feeling her big tits through her unhooked bra. Definitely, it was more erotically arousing to be slowly stripped than to strip herself naked within a minute or two. Then, slowly removing each bra strap as if he was undressing her while she slept, he removed the cups from her breasts. "You're so very beautiful Mom and I just love your big tits," he said filling his hands with her breasts. He fingered her nipples before he leaned his head down to suck her tits. "Thank you," she said putting a gentle hand to the back of his head and pulling him closer before turning her head away to roll her eyes. "I'm glad you like Mommies breasts." Yet, even though she was seemingly acting bored by his sexual naiveté, there was something more exotically sexual that she felt in allowing a nineteen-year-old boy of a man to touch, feel, fondle, and suck her breasts. For the first time and weird that she'd feel that way, indeed, she felt like a mother having sex with her son. Had she kept her baby boy, he could have been her son. Only, if he was her son, she didn't think she'd ever have sex with him. Nonetheless, in the way that so many men have enjoyed the incestuous fantasy of pretending that they were having sex with their mother, for the first time, she was enjoying the incestuous fantasy of pretending that she was having sex with her son. For the first time, she more enjoyed the seduction of him slowly undressing her while touching, feeling, and kissing her than she was looking forward to the actual sexual act. For the first time, she suspected that she wanted Steven in the role as her son than he wanted her in the role of his mother. Obviously, indeed he wanted her in the role as his mother but sharing his incestuous sexual fantasy, she was charting new sexual ground. * * * * * Not wasting any more precious time undressing, they helped one another quickly strip naked and as soon as they stripped off their clothes and as soon as she climbed on his bed, he mounted her. Being that he was so young, not wanting to turn him off, she didn't ask him to give her oral sex. Yet, not wanting him to cum inside of her, the last thing she wanted was to have his son. She stopped him to reach for her pocketbook and to retrieve a condom to protect herself from him by covering his cock in latex. Slowing it down by taking her time affixing the condom, she didn't want him to give her a slam bam thank you ma'am kind of sexual encounter with him ejaculating before giving her an orgasm. Already, he was so very sexually excited, too sexually excited, the most sexually excited she's seen a man before having sex. When she reached down to direct his hard cock inside of her, as soon as she wrapped her fingers around his stiff prick, he nearly ejaculated. "Oh, my God. This is just too damn fast. I'm cumming," he said. "Maybe because of the fantasy of thinking that I'm having sex with my adoptive mother instead of with you, a beautiful woman that I just met at the bar, is making me too sexually excited." Happening all too often with young men who have no control over their sexual excitement, she sighed her sexual frustration. Needing to take control of him by playing the part of his sexually frustrated, adoptive mother, she knew once she scolded him that would be enough to cum his sexual excitement. Obviously, he needed to be shown who was in control. "Don't you dare cum before I've had my orgasm," she said with anger. In order to get his attention and to rattle him from pleasure to pain, she grabbed him by a handful of his hair and pulled hard. "How dare you cum before me, your mother? Don't cum yet. Do you hear me? Control yourself. Hold!" Then, to delay him from cumming, she reached down and squeezed his balls hard enough for him to have second thoughts about cumming. "I'll tell you when to cum," she said slapping him hard across his face. Seemingly, his cock hardened in her hand when she slapped his face. Maybe he likes that sort of rough treatment, she thought. Maybe his adopted mother slaps him like that. Not wanting to waste another minute with him talking being that he was already to cum, she rolled him over and mounted him. This time fucking him harder and deeper albeit slower, she was determined to have her orgasm before he was no longer any good to her. Having never gone a week without having an orgasm, she didn't think that she could. With her big breasts bouncing up and down and swaying from side to side, he reached up and took hold of them in his hands to finger her nipples. Then when she stared down at him while she imagined that she was having sex with Steven twenty years ago, she felt the heat of her orgasm beginning to consume her. She was the one pretending now. Being that he looked so much like him, a younger version of him, she pretended that he was her Steven. Reaching the point of no return, right there at the precipice of cumming, determined to have her orgasm, she fucked him harder and she fucked him faster. "Oh, my God. I've never had sex like this before in my life. You are amazing Mom," he said. "Yes, that's it. Pretend that I'm your mother. Don't cum in Mommy yet. Hold. Wait until Mommy has her orgasm. Your job is to sexually pleasure your mother. You wouldn't want to disappoint your mother by not giving her an orgasm, would you?" "No, mother. Don't worry. I'll wait to cum until you're ready to cum," he said. Hoping he could hold just a little bit longer, she continued her role play as his mother while knowing full well that was what he needed. "Oh, oh, oh baby," she said fucking him harder and humping him faster. "That's it. Right there. Hump me harder. Fuck me Steven. Don't stop. Please don't stop. Fuck me Steven. Fuck me. That's it. Fuck your mother. Fuck me baby. Gees, I'm cumming. I'm cumming. I'm going to cum," she said. "I love you Mommy," he said in a low whisper. Nearly knocking her out of her orgasm, his words startled her. Many men have said the same thing to her before, "I love you Mommy." Yet, coming from his lips, the words somehow meant more to her. Lost in between two worlds, thinking of him as the Steven, the love of her life and thinking of him as the son she gave up for adoption, she was torn. Lost in the fantasy of thinking that he was her son, how could she have sex with her son? What kind of mother is she to fuck her son? If it wasn't for his cock giving her so very much pleasure, she would have been sad enough to burst into tears. Yet, his sentiment of love so bittersweet while she was having the intense heat of her orgasm, she was stuck in limbo while being pulled back from Heaven to deliver her to Hell. "Oh, yeah, that's it. I'm cumming. You may cum now too, if you'd like and if you're ready. Oh baby, that feels so good," she said when she felt him shoot his warmth inside of her through his condom. "That was good Steven. That was so good. My God that was so very good," she said leaning down to him to kiss him before rolling off of him. * * * * * Every time she called him Steven, the name evoked a memory. Every time she called him Steven, she thought of her original lover and not of him. In the way that she pretended that he was Steven, she remembered what it was like to have sex with Steven twenty years ago. How wonderful things would have been if she was born twenty years earlier and they met then? How wonderful it would have been had he married her instead of his wife? How joyous it would have been if this Steven really was her son and her lover Steven was his father? Only with Steven's unsatisfied penchant for younger women, if she was born twenty years earlier, he would have rejected her for one of his younger students in the way that he rejected his wife for her. * * * * * A sad truth that she hated to admit, Steven was nothing more than a degenerate pig. A man who used his office not only to teach young women but also to deflower them, he took advantage of young, innocent women then in the way that she takes advantage of young, horny men now. Yet, admittedly, it's much different when an older woman takes sexually advantage of a young man that it is when an older man takes advantage of a young women, especially if that woman is a virgin in the way that she was when she met Steven. He used her. Even though she professed her love for him, he didn't love her. If only he knew that his baby boy is out there somewhere, now a nineteen-year-old man, she wondered what he'd say to that. With her not telling him that she was pregnant and with her not aborting the baby, she wondered if he'd be angry that she carried her son to term before giving him up for adoption. She wondered if he'd want to find his son in the way that she's curious about finding her son now. Never thinking much about him before, she's been too busy with the feelings of her patients to consider her own feelings and that of her abandoned son. Now that she's here with a boy of a man who looks so much like Steven and who reminds her of the son she gave up for adoption, after feeling so good having had an orgasm, she's never felt so bad. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 09 * * * * * Unceremoniously removing his cock from her cunt was as if she was removing a plunger from a sink. With him so deep inside of her and with her so very sticky wet, the suction between them was quite severe and strong enough for her to have some difficulty pulling away from him. As if they were two dogs in heat, they worked to pull themselves free. Finally free of him, not basking in the afterglow, saddened by her thoughts of Steven and by the baby she had forsaken, she climbed off of him and off of his bed. Eager to flee, she grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand, wiped herself, and discarded the tissues in his bucket. Then, expecting it and waiting for it, he said something that they all say. "Can I see you again next week?" If she had a dollar every time a man asked her that question, she'd have a stack of money. Actually, being that she's sucked and fucked more than 350 young men, she'd have more than three hundred and fifty dollars, not so much. Three hundred and fifty dollars was worth an hour of her time that she gave to patients to help with their emotional problems. Obviously, she was the one who needed help now with her emotional problems. Only, twisted and torn, he was so different than any man she had bedded before and part of her wanted to say yes to seeing him again. He was such a beautiful boy of a man. "See me again?" She looked at him as if he was nuts. Then, with the sad eyes of a mother forsaking her son again, she looked at him as if she wanted to say yes. "I don't think so," she said caving a little bit. Hurriedly she started dressing quicker than she undressed. "Are you married? Is that why you can't see me again? If you are married, I understand and I promise to be discreet," he said with persevering with pathetic eyes. Always figuring she had made the right choice, marriage over career and psychiatrist over mother, she wasn't so certain of it now. Having played the role of a mother so often and with so very many different men, she would have made a good mother. Actually, somewhat telling that she played the mother while thinking that she was doing that for the men when, possibly, she was playing that extended role for herself. She looked at him lying there looking at her so hopeful that she'd stay and/or agree to seeing him again. "No," she said suddenly wanting to take him home with her as if he was her son. As if he was indeed her son, not wanting to abandon him again, she didn't want to leave. Suddenly, no doubt in the same way that Jennifer Lopez nurtures and counsels her 20 year younger than she is lover, she wanted to nurture him instead of having sex with him. Wanting to hold him against her breasts, she wanted to mother him. She wanted to shower him with affection and with gifts as if he truly was her son even though she knew in her heart that he wasn't. So lost and so lonely, it took this boy of a man for her to see all that she's given up to be a Harvard trained psychiatrist. How can she possibly help anyone, when she can't even help herself? It took this nineteen-year-old child of a man for her to see how ridiculous her life has become with her having weekly sex with anonymous, young men. It's time she put Steven behind her. It's time she found someone else to love and someone who would love her back, so that she could move on with her life. She looked at him again. Of course, she'd have sex with him again too but for some reason, perhaps because he was so young and perhaps because he reminded her so much of Steven, he brought out her motherly feelings. Feelings that she's put aside and denied for the sake of her education and career, she suddenly had now with him. What was that all about, she wondered? Why was he doing this to her? Yet, just as she couldn't imagined playing his mother, she couldn't imagine herself playing the subordinate housewife while waiting for her husband to come home and pretend to care for their children. Never a cold bitch before, she had become not only a cold bitch now but also a bold bitch after Steven dumped her. Yet, with this young Steven, as if he was her opportunity to make things right by mothering him, albeit incestuously mothering him in a sexual way, she suddenly wanted to stay. She wanted to be the mother he never had and she wanted him to be the son she abandoned. Only, when she analyzed her thoughts as a psychiatrist would, it was all so ridiculous. "Are you in a serious relationship?" Not even having a cat or a dog to keep her company, other than her Saturday night sex with a new young man each week, the only serious relationship she had was with her work. "No," she said suddenly sad that she had no one in her life. "Do you have a son?" A son? Ha! She had a son. If she had kept the son she had with Steven, she imagined him looking just like the naked man before her. If she had kept the son she had with Steven, no doubt, he would be him. The only child she had, someone so precious and so lost, she abandoned him to save herself by putting him up for adoption. Why did she do that? How could she do that? Now she wished she hadn't given her baby away when Steven impregnated her. If she still had her baby, her son would be about the same age as Steven. Surprised that she hasn't met someone like him sooner, this was a sick joke being played on her to make her feel that she had made a colossal mistake in choosing her education and career over caring for her child. Something she couldn't envision before, she could clearly see now. She could have had a normal life without Steven, a life with her son beside her. Maybe the reason she met Steven twenty years ago was to have her son. Only, not seeing it that way before and too late to fix it now, she can clearly see it things that way now. "I don't have any children," she said with sadness while wanting to tell him about the baby she put up for adoption. Always wanting children before and thinking that she'd marry Steven, have children, and live happily ever after, he destroyed her dream when he broke up with her. She always wanted a dog but, not fair to the dog, with her always working late and disappearing for hours every Saturday night, she was never home. Now her life is her patients and Saturday night sex. "Then I don't understand. Why can't I see you again?" Certainly good looking and young enough, he wasn't that good looking or that young enough that she'd want to see him again when there were a thousand other men just like him and better. Actually, kidding herself, he was that good looking and that young enough that she'd want to see him again and again. Moreover, there was just something about him that was so different from any other young man that she bedded. As if she had known her before and as if he was her son in another life, there was something about him that she liked. As if he was her missing piece, someone who could make her whole again, there was something about him that she loved. There was something about him that made her want to break her rule and see him again. There was something about him that, for the first time since she's been having sex with men on a Saturday night, made her want a more permanent relationship with him. Yet, other than for sex, why would someone like him want someone like her? Twenty-two years older than him, she was old enough to be his mother. Why would he entangle his life with her? No doubt, they'll be another young, handsome man next Saturday night. Without a doubt, just like him who pretended that he was having sex with his mother while fucking her, they'll be another young man wanting to take her home with him. "Seeing one another again is not a good idea and doesn't work for me," she said with coldness as if he was asking her for another appointment for therapy instead of asking her for sex. Only, with something holding her there, she didn't want to leave. She suddenly had that panicked feeling that a mother has when she loses sight of her child in a store. He was here with her now but if she left him, she knew that she'd never see him again. She knew that if she left him that she'd have an anxiety attack while thinking that she made the wrong decision of abandoning him in the way that she abandoned her baby boy twenty years ago. Yet, just as she was educated enough to know that one had nothing to do with the other, she was educated enough to know that one exactly had to do with the other. Undeniably, she wanted to have sex with him again and again. Undeniably, having never taken a permanent lover before, since Steven, she was thinking about taking one with him now. In the way that he pretended that she was his mother, with him physically reminding her of Steven anyway, she wanted to pretend that he was Steven. She wanted to pretend that she was that innocent, virginal, college coed again. She wanted to pretend that this was her second chance at love. She wanted to pretend that he truly was her son. Only, such torture to do that to herself, she couldn't pretend that any man was Steven or was her son, even this man who reminded her so much of her lost love and her abandoned baby boy. "Okay," he said seemingly accepting her answer without feeling the obvious rejection of it. She dumped her stuff in her purse before looking around the room to see if she had left anything behind. "Okay cowboy. I'm done with this little rodeo. Adieus amigo," she said getting ready to leave. As if she was a prostitute leaving her John at a rented hotel room, she put her hand to the doorknob. To be continued... Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 10 There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. Sex, Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding, feeling, fucking, and forgetting about men. * "Wait," he said looking hurt as if he was the woman and she was the man. "You could stay awhile longer," he said. Obviously in the way that he was looking at her, he didn't want her to leave. "I can't," she said not as emphatically as she said before. Playing her role all too well, she suddenly more felt like his mother than his lover. "What we do together doesn't just have to be all about sex. If you're hungry, I can order takeout and we could watch a movie or we could go out to eat. I know some places that are still open. Actually, if you don't mind, I'd much rather just stay here with you," he said looking so pathetically. "I have to go," she said with her hand still on the doorknob but without turning the doorknob. "It would be nice to just hang out together naked. I've never done that, just relaxed with a woman after making love while still naked. I mean, I've seen that happen in movies all the time but that's never happened to me." "That would be nice to hang around naked, but I must go," she said again but still without turning the doorknob to open the door. "It's just you're different than the other women I've been with," he said. "You're not embarrassed by being naked. Whenever I've been with a woman, someone my age, she didn't even want me to put on a light," he said with a sad laugh. "Seemingly, as soon as we started fooling around, it was time to drive her home." "I guess I'm different from women your age," she said. "I prefer the light to the dark and I don't have a curfew," she said with a laugh. "Maybe we could make love again Mom," he said falling into his role again. "Or maybe we could just talk. Would you like me to order some food? I can run downstairs and buy some coffee. Do you drink coffee or would you like something stronger, a glass of wine." She looked at him and smiled. "I can't stay Steven, really I can't," she said. "Sorry but I must go." Nonetheless, as if she was really his mother, she'd like that kind of social bond with a man young enough to be his son. She'd like to have a cup of coffee with him while talking about everything and laughing over nothing. Other than with her patients, she doesn't talk to anyone. It would be so refreshingly different to have a conversation over breakfast with a young man who reminded her so very much of Steven. "You didn't even blow me," he said with disappointment. "You promised to give me oral sex if I gave you an orgasm and I gave you an orgasm, didn't I?" She looked at him suddenly feeling guilty that she didn't sexually satisfy him in the way that he sexually satisfied her. At the very least, she should stay long enough to make him cum. In the way that he was so prematurely ready to ejaculate before, it wouldn't take her more than a few strokes for him to cream her hand or a few sucks for him to cum in her mouth. "You did give me an orgasm and I realized that I didn't make you cum but I'm sorry. I have to go," she said. He looked at her with such sadness that she was ready to stay. Suddenly feeling that she owed him something, a hand job, a blowjob, and/or an explanation at the very least, she wanted to stay, which is more than she wanted to do with all of the other men that she had sex with on a Saturday night. Suddenly she felt she was a mother leaving her son at college. "At least give me a good-bye kiss." With him being so handsome, she knew that if she kissed him again, she'd never leave. She knew that if he held her in his arms that she's spend the night, something she's never done with anyone before. Instead of walking over to him to kiss him, she looked back at him and blew him a kiss. "I'm outta here. Thank you for a good fucking time," she said with a laugh. "See ya!" As if her heart was breaking again, the same pain that she felt when Steven left her, she felt when she left young Steven. With her hand poised on the doorknob, she was unable to turn it. "I don't understand why you're leaving so fast," he said now showing a face full of rejection, the same face full of rejection that she showed when Steven left her. "Go then, if you must. Just go. Get out! Go! Thanks for nothing. I don't want you to stay." With purse in hand as if nothing sexually had happened between them and with her hand still on the doorknob, she turned to look at him still naked and in bed. As if she was the man abandoning the woman instead of the woman abandoning the man, being that she gave him the sexual fantasy that he always no doubt wanted, to have hot sex with his mother, he'll be okay. Turning to look at him without guilt for having sex with someone so young and without remorse for not staying to make him cum was her way of abandoning him in the way that Steven abandoned her so very long ago. "What's not to understand? I gave you what you wanted, sex, motherly sex at that, and you gave me what I wanted, an orgasm," she said giving him a smile. "I'll see myself out. Bye," she said turning the doorknob and opening the door, she closed the door behind her. * * * * * Same thing this week as it was last week and all the weeks before for the past several years since she graduated medical school, it was just another Saturday night to her. In a different bar with a different crowd of men, Susan was dressed to seduce. Boston has a lot of bars and she could invariably hit a different bar every Saturday night for the next few years and not hit the same bar twice. Yet, even though the bars were all so different, the crowd of men were always the same. With the multitude of men having different faces and bodies, yet their personalities, jokes, pickup lines, and bad, negative attitudes were all the same. No matter which bar she was in and which year it was, they all did the same things and they all said the same things. Boring, it was all getting so boring to find a young man to have sex with on a Saturday night. Having been there and done that over and again, as if she was having a continual feeling of déjà vu, she tired of the repartee needed to make a connection enough to go home with them. It would be so much better, once a man picked her up and she agreed to go home with him, if he would just shut the fuck up and not talk. As if he was a sex machine, all she wanted was to use him for was for mindless sex. Only now, with Steven from last Saturday night haunting her and with him still on her mind, she didn't think of anyone in the way that she thought of him. Steven, Steven, Steven, now another Steven was on her mind. In the way that the first Steven left her physically, he never left her emotionally and mentally. Not going with anyone who approached her, except for Steven last Saturday night, she wished a man would approach her with a different line. Tired of the same old, same old, it's as if these men lack imagination or the motivation needed to get her in bed. This time, instead of bedding a man with a pretty face and a hot body, she wanted a man with a brain in his head. Albeit terribly good looking and smart, she wanted someone like Steven from last week. Missing him, she wished now that she had stayed. Pretty horrible of her to leave him when he practically begged her to stay, she could have spent the night or at least another hour to have something to eat with him. She could have at least stayed long enough to get him to cum in her hand or in her mouth. At the very least, she could have had a cup of coffee with him. "Hey baby, how can I get you to go home with me?" She imagined her ideal man saying something like that to her instead of the same dialogue that all the men say to her when thinking that they're being cool and witty when they're just boring. "How can you get me to go home with you? That's easy. If you promise to shut the fuck up and not talk, I'll do any nasty sexual thing you want," she imagined her reply. * * * * * Paying to play but not with money, she didn't need a man to pay her way but they'd pay to play her sexy game in another way just the same, by giving her an orgasm. Taking out on them what happened to her so long ago, she used young men in the way that an older man once used her. Still scarred and angry, she was determined to get her twisted revenge. Yet not nearly the same in her brutal and inappropriate treatment of men in the way that Steven used and abused her, not allowing the men she had sex with to get close enough to her and for them to be with her long enough to fall in love with her, Steven broke her heart after their torrid, one-sided love affair. Her cherished, personal, prized possession, being the good Catholic girl she once was, he took the one thing that was sacred to her and the one thing that she was saving for her husband-to-be. Saving herself all through high school and prom night when Scott had her panties down to her ankles and his cock out when she they were 18-year-old high school seniors and in the backseat of his car, that was the hardest point to say no. Typically, as her way to preserve her virginity, she gave men hand jobs and blowjobs rather than having sexual intercourse with them. Finally, when she was an 18-year-old college freshman and thinking that she made it through her youth unscathed and with her virginity still intact, as if he was a thief in the night, an incorrigible Don Juan, Steven stole her virginity along with her heart. * * * * * "I love you," she said after he had fucked her and still had his cock still inside of her. "And I love you," he said. Thinking back now, with her always first to tell him that she loved him, he may as well have said ditto. "I want to marry you," she said. Thinking that he would marry her, she was dumb enough to tell a married man that she loved him enough to marry him. Yet, why not? If she told him that she loved him, wouldn't the next progression be that she wanted to marry him? What's so wrong with her telling her that she not only loved him but also wanted to marry him? At that point in their relationship they had been seeing one another steadily for more than three years. Apparently with her no longer held at bay, obviously with his fun over, he was done with her. Only for all that she knew, in addition to being married, he may have someone on the side and as it turned out he did. He had several women on the side. "Once my divorce is finalized, I want to marry you," he said obviously to placate her. "Then, once we marry, my dear Susan, we will live happily ever after," said Steven. She was dumb enough to think that he loved her. Looking back now, she couldn't believe that she thought he'd divorce his wife to marry her. For such a smart woman, how stupid could she be? She was so naïve. She was so gullible to start a sexual relationship with her professor. Still married to his wife of thirty years, she read about his 25th wedding anniversary party on the Internet five years ago. In hindsight, he didn't love her. In hindsight, she realized now that he never loved her in the way he said he did, in the way that she loved him, and in the way that he obviously loved his wife for him to still be married to her. In sadness he didn't marry her and they didn't live happily ever after, as he promised her they would. Now alone and a bit twisted in her payback revenge that turned from him to turn against all men, she didn't think that her unrequited love for Steven would bother her as much as it has for the past twenty years. Yet, still holding a candle for him and expecting him to call her on her birthday or for Christmas or on Valentine's Day, as the years passed without hearing a word from him, not even a note, she suffered in silence. If it wasn't for her education in psychology and psychiatry, always analyzing herself and helping herself with her own internal dialogue of therapy, she may have become a raving lunatic. She may have become one of those women who stalked him and/or even harmed herself and/or murdered him and/or his family. So hurt, she may have harmed herself and/or taken her own life. Apparently, with her being hot enough and old enough to seduce young men while pretending to be their mother, she wasn't crazy enough to harm her beloved Steven or herself. Where other women are driven to get married and have children, after removing men from distracting her, she was driven to complete her education and earn her PhD. Had it not been for Steven dumping her, married with children by now, she may have not earned her doctorate in psychology. Dependent upon a man instead of being dependent upon herself, she wouldn't have the control over her own life that she has now. Unless it was his money, she wouldn't have any money of her own. Yet, being that she's still crazy over him and/or just crazy, psychiatrists and psychiatrists are the craziest people on the planet after all. Apparently, according to her psychology professor, "It takes a crazy doctor to not only diagnose but also help someone who's certifiably nuts." With that bit of self-discovery in mind, she realizes now that she's a little crazy for her to still be in love with a man who never loved her. It takes crazy for her to play the dangerous game of pickup and release that she's been playing ever since she graduated from medical school and discovered that she wasn't young and dumb anymore. Alone and bitter, Saturday night is her night to find companionship and comfort while striking her payback against men. Sad and angry over men in general but still sexually interested enough in men to find them, feel them, fuck them, and forget them, she hates men and takes her sadness and anger out on all men for what one man did to her. * * * * * In the way that men kept themselves safe by ducking in foxholes on the battlefield, Susan kept herself safe by ducking in a bar every Saturday night to arm herself with a new man. As if she was a sniper picking off one man at a time for them to take her home with them, she was just as dangerous. Collecting trophies, she collected young men that were nearly half her age. Otherwise so perfect in every way with a perfect grade point average, a perfect face, and a perfect body, if she had one foible it was having sex with men young enough to be her son. If she had one thing wrong with her, it was that she was certifiably nuts for her to be doing what she's been doing for the past seven years. A true enigma, in the way that she talked and carried herself, she was Jane Hathaway of the Beverly Hillbillies in Ellie Mae Clampett's form, face, and figure. If she had one weakness, it was her need for sex and to get licked long enough and/or laid hard enough for her to experience an orgasm. As if she was a guy instead of a gal, it was all about the hunt, the seduction, the sex, and the orgasm. In the way that most men find them, feel them, fuck them, and forget them, that was her motto too. Not caring much about the wants, desires, and feelings of the men that she used to pleasure herself for one night a week, as if they were nothing more than a human dildo, she only cared about herself. Having already paid her dues in her failure to find love, she gave enough of herself each day during her job as a psychiatrist listening to people's plights, peccadillos, and problems. She used the bad behavior of her patients to justify her abnormal and immoral sexual behavior. Saturday was her one day to relax and the way that she relaxed was by having sex with men young enough to be her son. Knowing the type, she specifically chose men who thought of her as their mom, mommy, and/or mother while having sex with her. Knowing full well that young men are attracted to older woman, especially beautiful, well-kept, mature women with long, blonde hair, blue eyes, a shapely figure, and big tits, she was sexual bait in a bar filled with desirable, horny, young men. Waiting for a nibble, a bite, and a lick while fishing for compliments by appearing receptively approachable, especially after giving the eye to her intended victim, she smiled while batting her long eyelashes. She returned their sometimes inappropriate and/or obnoxious banter with her poignant, articulate, and intelligent conversation. With one thing quickly leading to another, she seldom left a bar alone. Instead of it being their choice to take her home, it was always her choice to go home with them. With them all thinking that they were the lucky ones, if only they knew that they were being manipulated by her for her personal, sexual satisfaction. In the way she looked and in the way she dressed, her way of preserving the species, she threw back the ones that were too young and the ones that didn't sexually interest her and/or mentally challenge and/or physically stimulate her. Always within just a few, short minutes of sitting at the bar while sipping her drink, she got more than a few nibbles on her line from more than a few men. Why wouldn't she? With her movie star looks, she was gorgeously sexy. One of a kind, in a hip bar filled with mostly young people, there was no other woman there who looked better than she did. Nonetheless, the ones who too readily approached her were the ones she didn't want. She wanted those rare diamonds that lay hidden in the dark corners and the far recessed spaces in the back of the room. She wanted the shyly quiet ones who were content watching everyone else having fun while they sipped their drinks before going home alone. Those are the men she knew were there looking for their mothers. Those were the men that she found erotically enticing and sexually arousing enough to seduce them with a look and agreeing to go home with them. In the way that most men are attracted to shiny objects, as if she was a shiny object too, she was doing her best to attract attention without being blatantly obvious about it. Not putting her tits on display or flashing men her panties, she always acted like the lady that she was and the lady that she imagined their mothers would be too. Not looking for a lifetime commitment, a marriage proposal, exchanging vows at the altar, and/or an engagement ring, she just wanted a man for the night. In the same way that men wanted her for sex, she only wanted them for sex too. Catch and release, she just wanted to have some humping and sweating, sexy, naked fun. Just wanting to get laid, so long as they gave her an orgasm, as if the men she picked up at the bar were nothing more than her sexual toy to use, she just wanted to have sex. With no difference in her libido, ready and willing, she was looking for sex in the way that men were looking for sex. Sex, sex, sex, with nothing personal, it was only about sex. Tired from all the listening and even more tired from all of their talking, she was drained by those patients who were unable to help themselves. Exhausted from interacting with a multitude of people who weighed her down with an overload of their personal problems, mental difficulties, and emotional issues, she used sex as her way to eliminate her stress and to feel human again. Ready to play with one selected subject, as if watching a room filled with lab rats or monkeys, she looked around the crowded room to see which one man struck her fancy. Then, when she found one, targeting him, her victim for the night, with just a look and a sexy smile, as if a blue eyed laser shooting across the room, she gave him the eye. Being that she inherently knew which ones to choose as opposed to those who'd just pitch her a line in hopes that she'd pick them, with her having the most valuable player on base batting average, her sexual success rate was near one hundred percent. Giving the bulk of the credit to her sexual success ratio to her training in psychology as a therapist and psychiatry as a psychiatrist, an unfair advantage in the way of a fisherman shooting fish with a gun, she had the ability to read a man from a distance of several, dozen yards. Additionally to her credit, she looked ten years younger than she was. Looking more thirty-something than she did forty-something, the young men who frequented this bar or that bar had already tired of a steady diet of young, dumb women looking for a relationship, a commitment, and/or a marriage proposal. With her someone different and someone new, they moved to her in the way that a moth was attracted by a bright light. Just by stealthily observing their behavior in the way she observed psychological subjects behind a mirrored glass window in Harvard's prestigious grad school while earning her doctorate in Psychiatry and her PhD degree in Philosophy, she could easily pick her prey. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 10 Looking like no therapist or psychiatrist should look who wasn't a sex therapist, with her long, natural blonde hair cradling the sides of her face and cascading down her back, if she was sitting there naked, she'd evoke the image of a modern day version of Lady Godiva. If she was sitting there naked, she couldn't be any more desirable then than she was fully dressed as sexy as she was dressed now. With her being so hot, if she was sitting there naked, no doubt, she'd set off the smoke alarms. If she was sitting at one of the table games in Las Vegas or Atlantic City, dealers would be calling for the eye in the sky to stare down her low cut and partially unbuttoned blouses. * * * * * She wore a short, tight, navy blue skirt that showed the round protrusion of her firm ass and enough of her long, shapely legs to attract the attention of those men who preferred asses and/or long, sexy legs to big breasts. Giving them a full selection of her a la carte menu, legs, ass, or tits, she wore a low cut, steel blue, silk blouse that lit up her big, blue eyes as if they were sparkling emeralds. For those who preferred breasts to asses and/or legs, she showed enough of her deep line of cleavage and ample bosoms to tease their interest and captivate their sexual desire. Straightforward in her sexual desire, she was more than subtle in advertising her God given gifts by highlighting her goods to her best advantage. Painted the color of a Toreador's cape for her to attract the bull, her lips were ready to not only tame the bull and take down the bull but also to see through the bull that testosterone filled men were too quick to give. Difficult not to envision lipstick on their dipstick when seeing the full coverage of her red, ruby lips, what man wouldn't want to kiss those lips before parting those lips with his tongue and later with his cock? So stunningly beautiful and available in a bar full of average, young, emotionally dependent women who didn't know who they wanted and how to get him if they did know which man they wanted, it was no contest. Fatal in their attraction to her and dead on arrival at their apartment when being so controlled by her and while having sex with her, the men flocked to her as if she was a fatal car accident. With her having her pick of men, having no problem picking up the one man that she so wanted, men always gravitated to her. With some women blessed with beauty, Anna Nicole Smith and Christie Brinkley, for example, God help them. Other women are blessed with brains, such as, Supreme Court Justice, Ruth Bader Ginsberg and Hilary Clinton, God love them too. A rarified and dangerous combination, Susan was blessed with both beauty and brains. Whatever she couldn't get with her brains, she was able to get with her beauty. She sat at the bar as if she was a high priced call girl waiting for a John to make her an offer to take her home. Only, not there for the money but there for the sex, she wasn't a hooker. Destroying the one thing that she so enjoyed, being in love with Steven, in the way that she surrendered her virginity and only had sex for love with only one man so very long ago, with nothing more to lose, in the way she'd never trade sex for money, she'd never again have sex for love. Now instead of having sex for love, having sex for anything but for fun would ruin her from having sex ever again. In the way that some men enjoy smoking a fine cigar while sipping an expensive, single malt scotch, Susan enjoyed a young man licking her pussy before she sucked his cock to stiffen him before injecting her with his erect hardness. As if she was their personal for hire sin eater, psychiatric therapy took as much of a toll on her as it did on her patients. After spending her days listening to the misery of others, she needed a break and a safety zone of having empty, meaningless sex with a man she didn't know and would never see again. She needed that human sexual connection to release all the shit she's had to listen to, endure, and comment on during her week of non-stop therapy that she gave patients who could afford to pay her $300 for their 45 minute sessions. Not an easy feat to maintain her professionalism and not laugh at some of the things that some mentally and/or emotionally disturbed people thought problematic, she refrained from crying over and becoming personal involved with the problems and issues of others. Even though she was paid well for helping those who were unable and/or unwilling to help themselves, each one took a piece of her skin. For her to make herself whole again, she had random sex with men nearly young enough to be her son. Then there were those who seemingly she failed when they took their own lives. Too late and too lost, she still felt personally responsible that she was unable to help them. Having Saturday night random sex made her forget about them too. * * * * * With her mind preoccupied on young Steven, she thought of him in the way that she always thought of her ex-lover Steven. She knew that it was because of her thinking about young Steven that she was striking out at the bar tonight. He haunted her and she was unable to shake him from her thoughts. Unable focus long enough to study her new potential sex candidates that she knew were there and waiting for her to give them the eye, she left the bar alone. An easy walk down the street a few blocks, she returned to Steven's apartment. She stood outside looking up at his windows. Hoping he was home, opened the door, climbed the stairs, and knocked on his apartment door. Only when he answered the door, surprised that he wasn't home alone, she was even more surprised by who was with him To be continued... Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 11 There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21. * Sex, Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding, feeling, fucking, and forgetting about men turns sour when she meets Steven. Having already scoped out the room and having spotted him from afar while sipping her drink without making eye contact with anyone yet, she had already chosen her next victim. Easy to spot, he was the one in the suit, the sport coat, the sweater, the sweatshirt, or the expensive cut, tailored shirt. Easy to identify, he was the handsome, good looking, and the magnificent specimen of a man with the hot, hard, muscular body. Impossible to miss him, he was the young man with brown, black, red, blonde, long, short, regular cut, or crew cut hair. The best looking and hottest man in the room, he was the young man with the brown, blue, or hazel eyes. He was the one laughing. He was the one with the boyish grin, the serious look, or the sad face. He was the one who she was sexually interested in him enough to go home with him when he asked her and most definitely, he'd be asking her to accompany him home soon. With her being the wild cougar on the prowl that she was, a trained man eater when it came to sex, these poor men had no idea of her womanly wiles and had no defense against her wicked ways. As if she was a man looking for a woman to fuck, sex, sex, sex, it was just sex with her and nothing more. Her perfect man would be a man who didn't speak and who just listened to her endlessly talk about herself and about her day. Preferring not even to have any conversation, wishing they were mute but still had their tongues necessary to lick her pussy to orgasmic pleasure, she wished that they wouldn't even tell her their name. She'd rather they be anonymous. She'd rather they'd be men who disappeared in the blackness of night after pleasuring her. There was no need for names. Once she left them, she wouldn't remember their name anyway. It wasn't their name that was important to her. What was more important to her was how they looked and how they made her feel with their tongue and cock. Truth be told, she really didn't want to know anything about them. Being that she's a psychiatrist, she already knows too much about too many people without needing to know anything at all about the man sexually pleasing her. All that was necessary was that she was sexually attracted to them. All that they needed for admission into her exclusive, sex club is that they have a ready tongue and a hard cock. If it was up to her, having sex in a pitch, black room, she'd rather have sex with a faceless, nameless cock than with the man behind the cock. After unceasingly listening to the problems of others, her perfect man would be her sounding off board and her personal therapist for the night that she changed as often as she changed her shoes and panties. Her perfect man would be someone who wanted her as much as she wanted him for that one desperate night of groping licking, sucking, humping, and fucking. A one night stand of wild frantic, sweaty passion that would never be repeated and could never be topped, that is, until next Saturday night when she picked another man to lick her and fuck her, she only wanted him for sex. It really didn't matter who they were and what they looked like so long as they were her type and agreeably amenable enough for her to mold and instruct while giving them the best sex they've ever had in their young lives. Short, tall, fat, thin, black, Asian, or Caucasian, she's done them all. There had been so many young men positioned between her legs fingering her, licking her, and fucking her that she's lost count. Obviously, she was desensitized from having one too many lovers. With her encounters were just about sex, the men were meaningless. The men were just a means to an end to receive the sexual gratification that she needed to focus enough to work another week analyzing people with emotional problems not as severe as hers. Where most men would consider her a slut and most women would consider her a whore, she was just as lonely as she was lost and as lost as she was crazy. Steven, Steven, Steven, even after twenty years, there was a spot reserved for him. The memories of him took up so much of her conscious thought. She lost her mind when Steven dumped her. She lost whatever sense of reality when it came to men and sex when she realized that Steven was just using her for sex. With him knocking a screw loose, having a few cards missing, she was no longer playing with a full deck when it came to her personal life, especially when it came to her personal, sexual life. Unable to wrap her mind around the concept of having sex without love back then when she was so young and so naïve. Now with a lifetime of sexual experience of sucking and fucking a multitude of men behind her, having learned the fine idiosyncrasies of having sex without guilt or remorse, she knew how the game is played. Once they're on her hook, she teases them while reeling them in to her man trap, her good looks and her sexy body. Her sexual interludes were all about catch and release. Find them, feel them, fuck them, and forget them. Take what you want and grab what you need, and then leave them feeling rejected and begging for more in the way that Steven left her. Then, next Saturday night, do it all over again. * * * * * Dr. Susan Jill Parker had sex in the same unemotionally detached way that Sara Gilbert had sex when playing Dr. Leslie Winkle in The Big Bang Theory and when agreeing to have sex with Leonard. Susan had sex to get her through another week of listening to the drama and to the personal, unrelenting problems of other people. Something that she looked forward to doing all week, sex was her Saturday night special. She looked forward to having sex as her release of tensions and frustrations that helped her to relax after having to listen to the sometimes inane conversations of those who are too problematic and too mentally disturbed to help themselves. If only her patients could listen to themselves unendingly talking about themselves and their piddling little problems, they'd be as embarrassed as she is bored. In the way that sex has helped her and would no doubt help them, if only there was a way that she could prescribe her patients sex. "Take this prescription and fill it by grabbing the first man or the first woman that you see and have sex with him or her," she imagined saying to her patients. "Thank you Doctor. I'll let you know how I made out when I see you next week. By the way, just a thought, do you think that I could use this prescription to have sex with you?" "No." Only, other than having sex with themselves, no one would want to have sex with some of her patients. In a word, they were crazy. They were as crazy as she was and as crazy as she was horny. Filled with sexual activity with teasing and excitement, her horniness culminated to a crescendo of arousal on a Saturday night. Sex, sex, sex, and more sex, with sex sometimes the root of all evil, sex was sometimes just what the doctor ordered, especially when it came to living her personal, private life. * * * * * Looking forward to graduating and receiving her medical degree and license to help people by listening, talking, and analyzing them, after her failed marriage and subsequent divorce, she was too wrapped up in her own personal problems to be effective in helping anyone. Truth be told with her losing her mind and giving her body to nearly any young man who'd want it, she couldn't help herself. Rebounding from the lost love of Steven, she married Tony to ease her pain. A disaster waiting to happen. A man that she didn't even know, what did she expect marrying a bad, boy Boston cop with too many transgressions and too many secrets. With him having secrets on the job, secrets off the job, keeping secrets at home, and having a secret life that she knew little about, he used her too. Being that she was on her way to being a psychiatrist, it should have been no secret to her that he'd turn out to be physically and emotionally abusive? Yet, being too close to the fire, she realized too late that another man burned her again. With her trying to help him by analyzing him, rather than him talking to her about his issues, the last straw was when he pushed her down the stairs after telling him, in a nice way and in the way she talks to her patients, all that was wrong with him. When she persevered and tried helping him by giving him some, personal psychiatric advice, the last straw was when he used her as his personal punching bag. With him having a 5th degree black belt in Judo, he knew how to hit someone without showing marks, scars, or bruises. All of her injuries were hidden on the inside instead of showing on the outside. After spending tens of thousands of dollars on lawyers to put restraining orders in place after he threatened to kill her, she hasn't seen him since. Now after her divorce, she was done with falling in love with men. Instead of giving up on men and turning to women for sexual intimacy, she concentrated on merely what men could give her physically instead of what she no longer needed emotionally. Having sex with young men was her way to jumpstart her depleted battery of being on the job analyzing crazy people for a dozen years. Now with her no longer dating men her own age, she was just a mature woman looking for some casual, sexual action. With her divorced and with her without children, living alone in Boston's Back Bay, picking up a young men and going home with them to relax was what she did for fun on Saturday night. Always going to their place, never did she take them home to her place. Afraid if they saw her on the street, they'd recognize her but whenever she wasn't on the prowl for young men, she wore her professional disguise. With her hair pulled back and with her wearing big, black rimmed eyeglasses that made her appear more the scientist than the cougar, having such a physical transformation, no man could tell one woman from the other. Whenever she was in the hospital setting, she wore her white, oversized lab coat that gave no evidence to the hot body that she possessed beneath. Acting serious and professional, none of her colleagues would ever deem her a slut never mind the whore that she truly was. In case she got lucky and she always did, she traveled with her small, inconspicuous overnight bag that looked more like an oversized pocketbook. Her way of keeping herself safe by observing, her way of screening men has proven itself thus far. She only frequented the most expensive bars and never went to the same bar twice. Being that she worked as a therapist and had advanced degrees in psychology and philosophy, she depended on her skills as a psychiatrist to read and weed out the whackos from her potential suitors. Not looking for a commitment, she choose younger men who, like her, were just looking for sex. Not much of a challenge, many young men's fantasy was to be with an older woman while, no doubt, thinking that they were having sex with their mother and/or their aunt. With her being 41-years-old and her Saturday night boyfriend being twenty-something-years-old, she gave them what they wanted and they gave her was what she needed. A win/win situation for both, they wanted sex and she did too. Never did she have sex with any young man more than once. Never did she have sex without practicing safe sex. With the first time the last time and with once enough for her, never did she promise to see them again. * * * * * Only tonight was different. Tonight she was preoccupied with the young Steven that she met last Saturday night and who reminded her of the old Steven that she had a sexual relationship with twenty years ago. For some inexplicable reason, instead of thinking about taking home one of the young men who were there at the bar, her mind was consumed by young Steven. Unable to focus, as if hypnotized or drawn by a powerful magnet, she left the bar and wandered down the street to Steven's place. Having never done anything like this before with any young man she had been with, she couldn't help herself from going to his apartment uninvited. As if she was stalking him, she stood outside his apartment building looking up at the windows while wondering if he was home. There was a strong smell of freshly baked bread that permeated the air and she couldn't help but think of the movie, Bright Lights, Big City, starring Michael J. Fox, Jay McInerney's novel. With her looking for young Steven she couldn't help herself from comparing her to Michael J. Fox as Jamie Conway looking for his model, wife, Amanda played by Phoebe Cates. With Jamie always wondering where Amanda was and who she was with, she had those same unanswered questions when thinking about young Steven. While staring up at his apartment, she hoped he was home. She'd like to see him again for her to finally put her mind to rest why she's so attracted to him. More attracted to him than to any other young man she's ever been with, she didn't understand why she found him so fascinating. As if she was a moth, there was a light on in his front room, the living room that told her that he was home. Yet, was he home alone? What if he's not alone? How would she explain herself? How embarrassing would that be? Feeling guilty for her bad behavior, something she never felt before, she was rude last Saturday night. With him inviting her to supper, she should have stayed for something to eat. She should have had a cup of coffee with him at least. Only thinking of herself and her own sexual satisfaction, she should have stayed with him long enough to suck his cock and to make him cum in her mouth but she didn't. Making love with him again and again, she should have broken her personal rule and spent the night. Horny now, she was ready to rectify her selfish sexual transgression by giving him her sexual apology. She opened his downstairs, front door and climbed the three flights of stairs to his apartment. A small place and with each floor housing four newly remodeled studio and one bedroom apartments, his studio apartment was big enough for one person. With the rents in Boston sky high, any place in the city was expensive, especially with his place being downtown just outside of the financial district. Poised between the Boston Common and the historic North End of Boston, the district that included the Old North Church, Paul Revere's house, and many prerevolutionary war cemeteries, Steven didn't need a car. From Faneuil Hall, Beacon Hill, the Back Bay, and to Fenway Park, he could walk anywhere from where he lived, even to Northeastern University where he attended school, if he felt like walking that far. She took a breath before knocking on his door. Won't he be surprised? Then, she wondered, what if he's not alone? What if he's with a woman? What if he's with his adopted mother? What would she say then? Should she say that she's his therapist, albeit more the sexual therapist than the psychological one? What should she say is his psychological problem? None of his mother's business and bound by the doctor/patient secrecy pact, she doesn't have to tell his mother what's wrong with her son. She was nervous about barging in on him yet, she needed to apologize. It wasn't right the way she treated him while rejecting him after he gave her so very much sexual pleasure. At the very least, she needed to make restitution and compensate him by sucking his cock. Certainly after what he did for her by giving her an orgasm, sucking his prick and allowing him to cum in her mouth is the least that she could do to make amends. She knocked on his door and immediately she heard his footsteps. He opened his door and as soon as he saw her, his face lit up as if it was Christmas and she was Santa's well-endowed daughter. * * * * * "Susan! What a surprise! I never expected to ever see you again. Come in," he said. As soon as she entered his apartment, she knew he wasn't alone. There was the smell of a pipe. Steven didn't smoke and she wondered who did. Maybe he was there with his adopted father or maybe he was there with one of his college professors. "Did I come at a bad time? I'm sorry that I barged in on you like this but I was at the bar and..." "The bar? The same bar we were at last week?" "No a different one," she said. "Boston has so many bars." "Come, I'd like you to meet my father," he said ready to introduce her as if they were already in a committed relationship and he wanted his father's approval of her before asking her to marry him. Being that she was more than twice his age, she felt awkward meeting his father. She tugged at his arm to whisper in his ear. "How will you introduce me? That I'm your too old girlfriend and that we had sex last Saturday night? What should I say?" "Just say hi," he said. "I already told my Dad all about you and surprising even me, he's eager to meet you. What are the odds that you'd appear at my doorstep?" A refined and distinguish man, a man who could have been a model had he not become a scholar appeared from around the corner. "Susan. This is my Dad Steven. Dad, this is Susan." "I'm so very pleased to meet you," said Steven offering Susan his hand while giving her the hairy eyeball. Shocked and stunned, she was unable to accept his hand nor give him her hand. "Steven," she said as if she was dreaming. "Steven," she said again but softer this time as if calling him twenty years ago but in a dream. As if she was having her worst nightmare, she couldn't believe her eyes. "Steven can you give us a moment. I need to speak with Susan alone," he said. "Sure. No problem. Actually, I'm late to meet someone. I have to go. Lock up when you're ready to leave Dad," he said turning to Susan. "It was nice see you again. Maybe you can call me and we can do what we did last Saturday night next Saturday night," he said slipping his phone number in her hand. "Bye," he said leaving and closing the door behind him. "Well, well, well, we meet again," said Steven. "What's it been twenty years? Please sit," he said gesturing Susan a chair. "I'm surprised you remembered me," she said sitting with stiffened posture. "With you so busy with all of those other women, young, college coeds taking my place, I didn't think you'd remember any woman older than 20-years-old." "Forget you? How could I forget you? You've haunted me all of these years. I made a mistake. I should have married you," he said. His confession that he made a mistake crushed her. His confession that he should have married her broke her hear all over again. Denied of having children, there was no one she wanted to marry other than Stephen. Maybe had she kept their baby and not put him up for adoption, she'd have a son now. Yet, unable to ruin her life with a constant reminded of her ex-lover, she couldn't love the son of the man who didn't love her. "Would have, should have, could have means nothing to me now Steven," said Susan. "You haven't changed. With your compliments, good looks, and insincerity, you're still the player, the user, the abuser, and the manipulator of young women now that you were then. "You've aged well," he said ignoring what she said about him personally and his bad sexual behavior. "Time has been kind to you. You're more beautiful now than you were as a 21-year-old college senior." "Thank you," said Susan. "You look the same but for some grey hair, a few wrinkles, and a few pounds around the middle," she said staring at his stomach and stopping her eyes from going any lower. "No matter how far I jog and watch what I eat and drink, I can't get rid of my paunch," he said. They fell silent while starting at the floor. Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 11 "This is awkward," said Susan. "So what are you doing with my son?" "Nothing that you didn't do to me," she said giving him a dirty look. "Is this your twisted way of getting back at me?" Waiting for her to respond, he looked at her before speaking again. "With you a psychiatrist, you should know better." "I don't know what you mean Steven and how do you know that I'm a psychiatrist?" "I've kept tabs. I do have friends and colleagues at Harvard, you know, who kept me informed of where you were and what you were doing," he said. "Oh," she said suddenly a loss for words. "Did you know he was my son?" "Actually, I didn't, know he was your son until just now. He approached me," she said pausing after her answer to rethink her next question. "Does he know that we were once intimate?" "No, I never talk about those things with him," he said. "Those things? So, I was just a thing to you," she said. "That's not what I meant Susan and you know it," he said. "After twenty years, let's not get into that all over again. Let's just be friends. Being that we were once lovers, why can't we be friends?" "Perhaps your son is the one who knows who I am, your ex-lover. Perhaps your son wanted to see what I look like. Perhaps your son wanted to know the type of woman his father have sex with before kicking her out of his bed and forbidding him from his life," she said with obvious anger. "Your secret is safe with me. I'm sure Steven doesn't know who you are," he said. "I have to go," she said standing. "Wait. Don't go," he said. "I thought maybe that," he said looking around his son's apartment, "that we could—" "Could what? Suck and fuck for old time's sake?" She gave him a look that would have set him on fire if she was a witch. "Go home to your wife Steven or stop by the Northeastern library. It's still open. Maybe you can entice another young college coed by helping her with her homework while she sucks your cock," she said turning away from him to leave. * * * * * When she turned to leave, Steven grabbed her from behind, spun her around, pulled her to him, and kissed her. A long, wet, intense kiss, he parted her lips and before she could resist his tongue was in her mouth. Then, not taking no for an answer, he reached beneath the front of her short skirt and cupped her pussy through her panty. As soon as his fingers tried to push her panties aside to enter her, she squirmed and pushed him away. "How dare you?" Fortified with twenty years of hurt, anger, and frustration, she slapped him hard across his face and hard enough to knock him back a couple of steps. As if he was opening a curtain, he grabbed her blouse with both hands and with buttons flying, falling, and bouncing everywhere, he flayed open her blouse. "You always had big tits. I missed seeing these," he said touching her breasts, feeling her breasts, and groping her breasts through her bra while kissing and kissing her. As if he was a teenager at a drive-in movie, as soon as she swiped away his horny hands from her tits, he was feeling her ass through her skirt or going up the front of her short skirt to cup her pussy through her panty again. "Steven no! Steven stop! Let go of me this instant!" "Fuck me Susan. You know you want me as much as I want you," he said. "Let's make love again in the way that we used to do." She looked at him. This was her moment to stay or leave. Going from father to son, it would be awkward to fuck Steven after having had sex with his son last week. Embittered by her principles, she was a slut but she wasn't a whore. "If I have sex with you, it's on my terms," she said. "Okay," he said sitting down. "You lead and I'll follow." "Take off your clothes. Strip yourself naked. Show me your cock," she said trying to salvage her modesty by buttoning what was left of her buttons on her blouse. "Sorry about the blouse. I'll buy you a new one," he said. "This was my favorite blue blouse," she said. "I remember your fondness for the color blue," he said standing and walking to her naked. With her hands on either side of his face, she leaned into him as if to kiss him. Only, when he closed his eyes waiting for her to part his lips and grab his cock, she kneed him hard in the balls. A textbook knee, the force of her leg driven up into his scrotum was hard enough for him to collapse as if his legs were wet noodles. "Now go fuck yourself," she said turning to leave. "I'd rather have sex with your son again and again then to ever have sex with you," hoping to make him jealously angry. Instead of making him jealously angry, he laughed while holding himself in pain. "You realized, of course, that Steven is your son too, don't you?" To be continued...