14 comments/ 21344 views/ 14 favorites Perverts' Anonymous Summer Session By: SusanJillParker This is a Summer Lovin' contest story. Please give me the support of your vote. Perverts hold their first support meeting but something goes awry. "Welcome everyone to Perverts' Anonymous, the Summer Session," said Joe, a forty-something-year-old, average looking man. "Actually, being that this is our first meeting, presently, this is the only seasonal session but we hope to have more Perverts' Anonymous meetings in all the seasons and in cities all over the country," said Joe with a prideful smile. "Thank you, Joe," said a few people from the crowd who obviously knew how Overeaters Anonymous, Alcoholics Anonymous, and Narcotics Anonymous works. "When I had this idea to start a Perverts' Anonymous chapter, I first needed to admit that I was a pervert, not an easy thing admit. With my perversion taking control of my life, I had to admit that I needed help, again not so easy to admit. Obviously with the warmer summer temperatures people wear less clothes and, more than any other season, summer is the season that I need the most help controlling my perversion." Joe paused while looking out over the group with sadness. "I feel for you, brother. The summer is my most difficult time too," said someone from the audience. "Seeing you all here ready to tell your story and offer your support to those telling their stories, I wish I had a support group years ago," continued Joe ignoring the interruption. "Much like many of you do, I carried the weight of my sexual perversion alone and in secret from my family and friends. Unless I was obvious in my leer and careless with my intention, no one knew I was a pervert but me." He looked from person to person with sadness. "Bearing the brunt of all my guilt, it was hard carrying that heavy, dark load of perversion alone." "What are the rules, Joe?" A voice from the crowd interrupted Joe's speech again. "Rules? There are no rules here, per se. You attend when you feel the need to talk about your perversion. If we find that we need more rules, we can make our own rules as we go along. For now, the only rules are there's no masturbation in this room, especially while someone is telling their story. Masturbating while someone is telling their story is just wrong. Counterproductive on so many levels, public masturbation is just nasty, especially while at a Perverts' Anonymous meeting. Being that we're all perverts and perverted in one way or another, with some more perverted than others, there are some obvious rules of decorum that we need to follow," said Joe looking out over the crowd. "This is a no smoking and no cell phone area. There's no recording of anyone by video or audio," he said pointing to the no smoking, no cell phone, and no recording signs taped to the wall. "Can we still carry our cell phones with us, so long as they're turned off?" Asked a woman waving her hand, as if she was in school and Joe was her teacher. "Yes," said Joe. "So long as cell phones are turned off for the duration of our session, you may have your cell phones with you." "Is that it? Is that all the rules?" Asked someone else. "Because the nature of this meeting is trying to help one another with our personal perversions, there's no hooking up with anyone while in this room. You can hookup outside and on your own time but not here. We're here to help one another with their sexual peccadilloes and not encourage random sexual activity that will work against them getting the help they need. Lastly, unless invited to speak by the speaker, there are no questions and comments allowed while someone is talking. We want this to be a secure and friendly environment, a place where people feel free and safe enough to tell us their story, without us unfairly judging them to make them feel bad enough not to return," said Joe looking around the room. "How do we begin?" Asked another voice from the crowd. "Being that I'm already standing here, I'll begin by showing everyone how it's done," said Joe putting both hands on the podium, raising his chin, and looking out over the crowd of perverts. "I'm Joe. I'm a pervert and I need help," he said proudly, while surveying the sea of faces. "Hi Joe," said the group as a whole. "My perversion is women's feet. Being that this summer season has been unduly warm, I've been bombarded with visions of women's feet. With all the women's naked feet and exposed toes here tonight, I'm having a hard time controlling myself from staring, leering, touching, feeling, sniffing and licking women's feet and sucking their toes," said Joe with a sad laugh. "Just as the female foot is my pleasure, the female foot is my demon. Even though women's feet are my sexual weakness, unfortunately, most women don't share my foot fetish." "You can suck my toes any time, Joe," said a man in the audience with a laugh. "Thank you, but I'm not into men," said Joe. "Anyway, whether bare, covered in gym socks, netted with nylon, or hidden from view in shoes, I love women's feet. Most women's feet are so delicately divine. Feet, feet, feet, I can't get enough of women's feet. As a way to continue to feed my perversion, literally a fox in a henhouse and possessing the patience of a saint, excitingly, albeit sometimes frustratingly, I work in a women's shoe store helping women select shoes. Needing to make a living and with jobs difficult to find, I can't quit my job for the sake of helping my perversion. Instead, I'm hoping that these meetings will keep my foot fetish in check while working at the shoe store." Some late arrivals entered the room and Joe stopped talking and smiled while waiting for them to take a seat. "If any of you are into up skirts, I could tell you a few stories about some of the exhibitionistic women who regularly shop the shoe store to try on shoes, correction to flash me their panties, that is, if they're even wearing panties," he said with a laugh. "I had no idea what exhibitionists women can be until I squatted down in front of them to fit them with shoes. One particular woman, a good looking blonde, comes in from time to time to try on boots a size too small. Obvious in her intent to flash me her panty, instead of allowing me to correctly size her foot and bring her a boot that fits, she struggles to force her foot in a boot too small. Playing the part of the panty voyeur instead of the foot fetish pervert, I allow her to flash me for the sake of spending more quality time with her feet. Trying on boot after too small boot, while opening her knees wider and raising her legs higher, she gives me a good show of her panty clad, pussy mound and pussy slit," he said while eying a blonde sitting in the front row as if she looked familiar and as if he recognized her. "Is the shoe store looking for help?" Asked a pervert from the audience. "I wouldn't mind working that job, helping women try on shoes, while ogling their panties and pussies all day," he said with a twisted laugh. "Unless invited by the speaker, no comments, please," said Joe playing dual roles as host and as speaker. "Anyway, I had an erection my entire workday, not so much from seeing women's panties and pussies but from touching, feeling, and caressing women's naked and stocking covered feet," he said with a shrug. "Now no longer able to control my sexual perversion, I can't help myself from leering at and wanting to feel women's feet, which is why I started Perverts' Anonymous and why I'm here," he said looking down the line of the women who sat in the first, few rows with their feet so shamelessly, albeit innocently exposed. Obviously, now knowing Joe's admitted sexual perversion was podophilia, the worshiping of feet, specifically women's feet, the most common form of sexual fetishism, they saw him leering at their feet. All the women who sat in the first, few rows tucked their feet back beneath their chairs and out of sight of his perverted, leering eyes, that is, all except for one woman. A brazenly bold but beautiful, blue eyed, busty, blonde woman sitting in the front row, instead of making her feet and toes less obvious by hiding them beneath her chair, as if unmercifully teasing poor Joe, stretched out her long, shapely legs and wiggled, curled, and splayed open her red polished toes in her sandals. Oblivious to a man who didn't have a foot fetish, her erotic foot display may have gone unnoticed had she not been purposely flashing her exposed feet and wiggling her toes to a man who already confessed a serious foot fetish. Admittedly, even if one wasn't a pervert with a foot fetish, calling attention to herself by shamelessly flashing her feet and wiggling her toes, indeed, she had beautiful feet, feet that any man or women would love to massage, lick, and suck for him or her to have his or her way with her pussy. Any man or woman with a foot fetish or not while in the throes of having sex with her, undoubtedly, would want to suck her sexy toes. Looking as if he were a man dying of thirst and needing a drink, wiping his hand across his gaping mouth while staring at her feet, the action of her moving toes made him give her his undivided attention before he collected himself and resumed speaking. "I love anything that has to do with women's feet, shoes, stockings, toenail polish, and foot massages, especially foot massages," said Joe directing his speech to the blonde woman's wiggling toes instead of to the crowd. "My real weakness, I can't give women enough foot massages. Holding and caressing their feet in my horny hands, I love giving women foot massages. With so many exposed feet, the summer is my most difficult time for me to control my foot fetish, which is why I decided to start Perverts' Anonymous as a support group to help those with sexual problems that control their lives," he said repeating himself for more stranglers who entered the meeting late. "Women's feet are controlling my life but now I'm hopeful that I can conquer my dark monster. Thank you," said Joe. "Thank you for sharing, Joe," said the group applauding. "If you'd like share your sexual perversion story with us, we'll not judge you. I'm not a medical doctor, a psychologist, or a psychiatrist. I'm just a fellow pervert who understands how sexual needs can control someone's life. We're all just here to listen, understand, learn, and support your struggle to be free of your dark, sexual passenger. Perhaps there are those who will never get up to tell us their story and share their perversion with us but, instead, who receive help from just listening to the struggle of others with their sexual perversions. That's okay. There's no pressure for anyone to speak. Maybe, one day, they'll want to share their story with us too," he said pausing to look from person to person with a caring, compassionate, and understanding smile. "I implore you to team up with another member as your personal sponsor to help you with controlling your perversion. You must understand that you cannot stop your perversion alone," he said pointing a warning with his index finger while leaning an elbow on the podium. "The sexual urge is too overwhelmingly strong for you to harness it alone. One more thing, being that this isn't a dating club, you should team up with a member of the same sex. Those of you who are gay or lesbian should team up with partners of the opposite sex. Also, it will help you to overcome your struggle more by teaming up with someone who shares or compliments and thereby better understands your perversion." "What do you mean by teaming up with someone who compliments our perversion?" Asked someone from the audience. "Perhaps, someone who enjoys bondage can team up with someone who enjoys discipline or an exhibitionist can team up with a voyeur, that is, so long as they're of the same sex," said Joe. "Just as we wouldn't want a woman who enjoys bondage teaming up with a man who enjoys discipline, we wouldn't want a female exhibitionist who's trying to control the urge to expose herself to a team up with male sponsor who enjoys looking," said Joe suddenly enjoying the spotlight of being the expert on perversions. "Thank you. I understand," said the person who asked the question. "What's your perversion?" Joe stood tall as if he was the main speaker at a self-help seminar. Surprised that there were as many women needing help with their sexual perversions as there were men, Joe looked out over the audience of a mixture of 100 men and women. "What's your perversion? That sounds like a good title for a game show, doesn't it? What's your perversion?" He looked around the room again as if he was an auctioneer looking for the last, high bid. "Would anyone like to share your perversion with us and tell us your story why you feel that perverted sex is controlling your life?" "I'd like to tell my story," said a man in his 50's. Looking as if he was already on death row, he stood and slowly walked to the front of the room. He walked with his head hung as if walking the aisle of a courtroom ready to confess his crime to the court, receive his verdict from the jury, and accept his sentence from the judge. Just looking at him, in the way that he carried himself, slowly walked, and turned his lowered head from side to side while staring at everyone, he looked like a pervert. The type of man that a father would take his daughter's hand and/or his wife's arm and cross the street, when seeing him leering and coming toward him, nonetheless, the man needed to be commended for realizing that he had a sexual problem and wanted help. "C'mon up," said Joe encouraging him with a wave of his hand and clap of applause. Joe's applause evoked more applause from the rest of the audience. The man walked up to the podium to shake Joe's hand and turned to look out over the group to share his story. "Hi, I'm Larry. I'm a pervert and I need help," he said wiping a bit of drool from his mouth while staring at some of the women in the audience. "Hi Larry," said everyone. "The same as Joe, the summer time with women wearing less clothes, is my most difficult time of the year for me to control my perversion. What's my perversion? I'm a voyeur. I enjoy spying on women. That's my perversion," he said pausing his speech to put his head down and to stare at the floor as if he was thinking or had suddenly fallen asleep. Then, the man looked up at the ceiling as if addressing God or an imaginary person that suddenly appeared in the room. "Thank you," said Joe thinking that Larry was done talking. He took a step forward to reclaim the podium and stepped back when he realized that Larry wasn't quite finished speaking. "Sorry." "My sexual perversion started when I was just a boy," said Larry leaning forward to put two, hands on the podium to stare out at the crowd. "I used to play with my Matchbox cars on my linoleum, kitchen floor. Playing on the floor was my pretense to peer up my mother, my sister, my aunts, and my cousin's skirts. Oh, yeah, countless times, I've seen all of their panties over and again. My entire life has been filled with a preoccupation of up skirts and down blouses, mostly up skirts," he said clenching his white knuckled fists before raising his arm high. "I can't get enough of seeing panties, especially bright white, tight, cotton, bikini panties, my favorite panty to see. Not green, red, yellow, and blue, perhaps because I went to parochial school, I love bright white, tight, cotton bikini panties," he said raising his voice in the way that Hitler mesmerized a gathered crowd. "Panties, panties, panties, panties, I love seeing panties." The same blonde, pretty woman who stuck out her sandal clad feet and wiggled her toes at Joe, suddenly hiked up her short skirt nearly to her crotch and parted her knees. As if she was imitating Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, as if she was a baseball player sitting on the dugout bench with his legs spread wide open, obviously an exhibitionist, calling attention to her panty, she slowly crossed and uncrossed her legs without pulling down her short skirt. With her skirt climbing higher and her knees parting wider, she smiled while flashing Larry a deliberate up skirt look of her bright white, tight, cotton, bikini panty. Larry stopped what he was saying to leer and Joe, seeing the woman's obvious panty flash too, wrinkled his brow and silently shook his head at her. Sufficiently admonished enough by Joe to stop her flashing, the woman uncrossed her legs, fluffed down her skirt, and cemented her knees together, as if she was sitting in church. "I can't tell you how many panties, bras, naked pussies, and bare breasts I've seen," continued Larry looking from the blonde to the audience and back to the blonde. "Hoping to see something that I shouldn't see, a down blouse view or an up skirt peek," he said looking at the blonde woman again. "I spend my days riding the subway and the bus line. Like Joe, I've even thought about working in a woman's shoe store. I wish I could, but not with my bad back," he said looking over at Joe and giving him a smile. "Sorry, but I need some water. Suddenly, I'm parched." Joe poured him a cup of water and handed it to him. "Here you are, Larry." "Thank you, Joe," said Larry sipping some water before continuing. "You're welcome, Larry." "On windy days downtown, with those skyscrapers creating quite the wind tunnel and with the backs of women's skirts blowing and billowing up as if flags flying, is one of my favorite places to be. The mall is another of my favorite haunts too. Evoking a memory of playing with my Matchbox cars, staying back a few steps, I follow women wearing short skirts up an escalator and bend forward just as they reach the top to look up at their panties while pretending to tie my shoe," said Larry looking down with face full of sudden remorse. "Pervert," said a woman from the back of the room. "Quiet please," said Joe. "Oblivious to me staring and leering, I can't tell you how many miles I've walked in the hopes of getting an eyeful. I love watching women sitting on the grass in the park and having their lunch with their skirts hiked up as high as my hope and their legs opened as wide as my eyes are ready to see something," said Larry looking at Joe and the blonde woman before abruptly returning to his seat. "Thank you for sharing, Larry," said Joe giving him his appreciation with applause. "Is there someone else, who'd like to tell us their perversion and share their story with us?" "I'd like to share my perversion," said a man standing up and walking to the front. "That's great," said Joe applauding him and evoking more applause from the crowd. "I'm Mike. I'm a pervert and I need help," he said taking his place behind the podium. "Hi Mike," said the crowd. "Just as up skirts and panties are Larry's perversion, tits and bras are my perversion. Without doubt, better than any other season, unless I lived in a much warmer climate, the summer season is my best time to see tits and my most difficult time to control my perversion. I like, correction, I love tits, titties, jugs, boobs, melons, tatas, knockers, breasts, air bags, bazookas, and big balloons. Whether fake or phony, the bigger the breasts the better. Not too small but not too big, my favorite tits are women with racks that are a C cup to a double D cup. Oh, yeah, tits are my thing," said Mike staring at women's breasts in the audience. From his podium perch, Mike stopped talking to look from woman to woman, no doubt, by their reactions, to stare at their tits through their clothes. Under the leering heat of his stare, most women crossed their arms over their chests. Then, thinking that Mike was done talking, as he had prematurely done with Larry, Joe took a step forward to reclaim the podium. "Sorry," said Joe, when he realized that Mike wasn't quite finished. "Please continue, Mike." Perverts' Anonymous Summer Session "I don't even bother looking at B cup, padded bras clad breasts or A cuppers, that is, unless they're on a braless women jogging by me with her boobs bouncing and her nipples making permanent impressions in her tight shirt, or if she's leaning in front of me to give me a free down blouse show of her titties." Again the same blonde woman sitting in the front row slowly, methodically, and unmercifully unbuttoned one of the buttons of her blouse to reveal her long line of cleavage. With the gentle movement of her fingertips, as if pushing away cellophane on a box of imported chocolate covered cherries, she flayed open the top portion of her blouse to reveal the bulging roundness of the top of her breasts and the white lace of her sexy bra. Better than any tits there, she had magnificent, natural jugs. Then, as if she was about to do battle in a women's prison cell with her lesbian cellmate or as if she was wearing an uncomfortable pushup bra that was a tad too tight, she put her hands beneath each one of her C cup, fully overflowing breasts and lifted and adjusted them. Mesmerized and nearly hypnotized by the sight of what she was doing with her exposed cleavage and bra clad melons, with her every salaciously, sexy movement, the tops of her breasts swayed and jiggled as if they were buoys on the water. Then, while looking up at Mike staring at her sudden show of exhibitionism, as if slowly running her palms over a speed bump, she paused at the big impressions her erect nipples made through her bra and blouse. Finally, as if smoothing out any wrinkles in her blouse, she ever so slowly ran her hands down the front of her breasts in the way that he wished, no doubt, he could. "Ahem," said Joe, while making a stern face at the woman. "Please continue, Mike." "I spend hours every day looking at women's tits passing by me in the street or while surfing online," said Mike looking from the blonde, pretty woman to look out at the crowd before staring back at her. "My way of giving something back, my way of helping myself, I mean, my way of helping women with their breast health, I applied for a job as a technician at the mammography department but, no doubt, they only hire lesbian women for that position," he said suddenly looking as sad as he appeared horny when he first took the stand. "I wish I could have a normal life without having to spend my day thinking about, staring at, and masturbating over tits, titties, jugs, boobs, melons, tatas, knockers, breasts, air bags, bazookas, and big balloons." he said still staring at the blonde woman before returning to his seat. "Thank you, Mike, for staring, I mean, for sharing. Is there anyone else who'd like to stare, sorry, I mean, share?" Reminiscent of Carolyn Jones in her walk, the original Morticia in the Addams Family, a slim, albeit very shapely, extremely sexy, and exceedingly attractive Asian woman wearing a short, skin tight skirt stood. As is she was walking while wearing a kimono, she wiggled her way to the front of the room. As if her hair was painted there, she had long, shiny, black hair that streamed all the way down her back to just beyond her waist. She took her place behind the podium and before saying a word, she looked out over the crowd as if looking for her victims. With some audience members saying later that they could smell incense, as if she was a Buddhist monk about to meditate before chanting, as if she was a martial arts expert concentrating before giving an opened fist demonstration, she closed her eyes and put her head back. Then, she raised her head, looked forward to pop open her black eyes and bow to the audience, and smiled. "I'm Christine and I rike to fawk," she said the word 'fawk' with enough forceful conviction that some said later that every time she said the word 'fawk', they imagined they heard the sound of a gong. "Hi Christine," said everyone. "I don't know why it is, but I can't get enough of fawking. Man or woman, I'rr fawk anyone, anytime, anywhere, and any place. Much rike everyone else doing their own perversion during the summer season, I fawk the most during the rong, hot summer season too." Again calling attention to herself from the speaker, the blonde, pretty woman discreetly put her hand to her mouth with her index and middle finger positioned in the shape of a V, while flicking out her tongue, waving it up and down, and licking in between her fingers as if she was licking Christine's pussy. Larry craned his neck to see if the blonde was still sitting like a lady, while Mike continued staring at her exposed bra clad breasts, and Joe looked up from the blonde's beautiful feet to her face and smiled, while shaking his head. "Oh, I'd fawk you anytime, anywhere, and any place, brondie. You're haaawt," said Christine. "Please continue, Christine, without addressing your comments to any one particular person," said Joe shaking his head and showing another face full of disappointment at the hot blonde. "It would be one thing if I fawked for money but I don't. I fawk just for the feering of fawking, of being fawked, and of being used and abused by someone, whether man or woman. I've fawked outside in cars, trucks, vans, motor homes, even on a moving motorcycre. I've fawked at football, baseball, hockey, and basketball games. I've fawked in restaurants, restrooms, at the mawrr, the food court, and in airpranes. I've fawked at work, at schoor, and in church. I'd fawk someone here, anyone, man or woman, if I courd," she said looking out over the crowd with sadness as if she was sad that she couldn't fuck someone in the room now or was sad that she felt so compelled to continually fuck. As if this was the basement of a Catholic church instead of a meeting of Perverts' Anonymous and everyone hit bingo at the same time, a dozen hands went up in the air. As if they were at a baseball game and the ball girl was looking for someone in the stands to toss a foul ball to, men and women competed for her attention. "Me! Me! Pick me," said members in the audience. The attention Christine received put a confident smile on her face. "I've fawked by brother-in-raw, my father-in-raw, my mother-in-raw, and my sister-in-raw. I've fawked all my friends husbands and boyfriends. I've fawked all my friends and all their friends. There's no one I know that I haven't fawked. I'd like to go just one day without fawking and needing to be fawked," she said leaving the podium. "Thank you, Christine," said Joe. "Is there anyone else?" "Pssst," said Larry to Christine, as she slowly wiggled by him to find her seat. "I'll be your sponsor," he said with a hopeful look. "Fawk off," said Christine. "I'd like to share my perversion," said a man sitting to the side by the windows. "Great," said Joe waving him up to the podium. "I'm Bill, a long time pervert, I like flashing my cock to unsuspecting women." "Hi Bill," said the audience. "With the summer's good weather and longer days of sunlight improving my chances of exposing myself to unsuspecting women, I roam the streets watching for victims, I mean, women to flash. Doorways are good places to flash, street corners where I can see in both directions are good too, and even from behind parked trucks. I've flashed on buses, subways, and in my car. As if my exposed prick is a monster, I love it when women stare at my cock with a shocked look on their face. I couldn't begin to count the number of women who've seen my erect prick. I've flashed all those who don't know me, everyone who knows me, and anyone who comes to my house." As if she was wearing a raincoat with nothing underneath, as is she was a lewd and lascivious male flasher, the blonde made a movement with her blouse, as if she was ripping open her coat and exposing herself. Then, with her hand in her lap, she pretended she was a man with a cock in her hand and was masturbating over all the women flashed. Bill stared at her before giving her the finger. "Hey, that's quite enough," said Joe admonishing the woman again. Then, when Joe stared down at her feet, she curled and wiggled her toes. "Please continue, Bill," said Joe without removing his stare from the woman's feet. "I've flashed my mother, my sisters, my aunts, my cousins, my wives friends, my sisters, and my mother-in-law multiple times. Always making it appear accidental, I've flashed the Avon lady, the real estate woman, petitioners collecting signatures, and Jehovah witnesses. I've flashed them all. I've even flashed the hotel maids when I travel. Pretending that I'm a nudist, typically hotel maids slam shut the door, once they see a naked man, but I actually tell them that I'm a nudist upfront. "Pervert," said that same woman from the back of the room. "Many hotel maids still leave the room when they see I'm naked but others, once I tell them I'm a nudist, clean the room with me standing there naked and talking to them. Some look, some stare, and others look away. Some maids have even asked me questions about being a nudist, one reached out and touched me, and another propositioned me for sex. Being that I'm not a nudist and don't know anything about the nudism, I have fun pretending I do. Sadly, now that flashing is controlling my life, before being arrested and having my name permanently listed on the sex registry list, I need help to stop my flashing," said Bill quickly unzipping himself, pulling out his cock, and flashing his cock to everyone in the room. "Eww," said the women. "Thank you for sharing," said the men laughing. "I'd like to share my story," said a tall, busty, big, beautiful, black woman." "Please tell us your story," said Joe. Broad shouldered and thick hipped, as tall and as busty as Serena Williams, she was one hot, sexy mama. "Hi, I'm Kenisha and I'm from Detroit," she said with attitude while looking around the room to see if anyone took exception to her and/or to her hailing from Detroit. "Go Tigers! Go Lions," she said pumping her fist. "Hi Kenisha," said the crowd. "I'm a little nervous," she said waving her hand in front of her face. "I've never told anyone this before, that is, except for the hundreds of men I've been with sexually," she said. She looked at Joe for support and he winked at her, while nodding his head and giving her encouragement with a little wave of his hand. "Just tell us your story, Kenisha. I'm sure it's nothing we haven't heard before," said Joe. "Just as Christine loves fawking, sorry, I mean, fucking, I love sucking cock. There I said it. Whew! I didn't think that I could," she said looking at Joe and smiling. "There's not a man I know that I haven't sucked his cock. All my boyfriends, all my sisters' boyfriends or husbands, my friends' boyfriends or husbands, men that I just met at the bar, my uncles, my cousins, my brothers, my father, my father, and even my grandfathers, I've sucked all their dicks." She looked out over the audience. "I can't help myself," she said putting a finger to her full lips, as if about to suck it. "A natural born cocksucker, a cock sucking machine, I love sucking cock." She stopped speaking suddenly to look over at the blonde woman licking her lips and putting her hand to her mouth as if to yawn. Then, she curled her fingers in a loose fist and moved her hand back and forth, as if she was giving a blowjob. Moving her head up and down and side to side as if she was really sucking someone, she was putting on quite the cock sucking mime show. "Say what? You little, white bitch. What's wrong with you? I'm up here baring my soul and looking for help and you're making fun of me," said Kenisha shooting the woman an angry look. "You dumbass Barbie doll, I'll fuck you up. You look like that skinny, skanky assed, country western singer, Taylor Swift, but with tits. Tell me, honey, are those tits real? My big double D breasts are real," she said putting her hand beneath each one of breast and lifting them and juggling them as if straightening them. Mike stood to look at the blonde woman before staring up at Kenisha's big melons. Her breasts made two, huge, mountainous impressions with a deep, natural valley in between the fold of her tight top. No doubt, if someone was to lean their face between her big boobs and yodel the sound of their voice would echo. "Let's just focus on your story, Kenisha, shall we?" Joe gave the blonde woman a pursed lipped, dirty look. "After they cum in my mouth and I swallow, I'm always ashamed of myself when it's over. Disrespecting myself for being on my knees before a man who's usually equal or inferior to me, I feel bad about myself but not bad enough to stop sucking cock. While I'm stroking a man with his big, hard cock in my mouth and cupping his balls in my palm, I own that motherfucker. I'm in control," she said banging the podium with her big fist. She enunciated the word 'own' and pointed her index finger to the ceiling as if she was in a Gospel meeting in church or was Oprah Winfrey talking about her OWN network. She yelled out the word 'motherfucker' as if the word was the incarnation of the Devil himself. "Wow, what a woman?" Mumbled Mike under his breath. "I love controlling a man with my hand, my mouth, my lips, and my tongue. Controlling him is the feeling that I love to have. Then, when I look up at him and he puts a heavy hand to the back of my head to hump my mouth and fuck my face, I do everything I can to get him to cum in my mouth so that I can swallow him. Hell," she said putting a hand to her hip and sticking out her big, round ass, "it ain't no blowjob, unless you swallow. Isn't that right, sugar," she said looking at the blonde woman. As if telling her to go fuck herself, with a toss of her head, she flicked out her chin at her. Then, as if punctuating her story with a period, she looked at Joe and nodded her head. "Amen, sister," said Mike standing to applaud. "Bravo! Bravo!" "Thank you for sharing, Kenisha," said Joe applauding her. "It feels so good to get that off my chest," said Kenisha cupping a big breast in each hand, as if she was going to serve up her chest to the audience. With her big, black body moving in sections, tits, pussy, and ass, tits, pussy, and ass, Kenisha slowly and rhythmically walked back to her seat. As if his eyes were being eclipsed by two, full moons, Mike's eyes widened as large as her big breasts loomed closer. Cast beneath the shadows of Kenisha's big balloons, Mike smiled up at them as if he had found religion and had seen God and, obviously, he had. "If you need a sponsor," said Mike to Kenisha with a big smile. "I'm your man," he said talking to her tits, instead of looking up at her big, brown, beautiful eyes. "You're the breast man, right?" Kenisha moved a hand beneath one of her big, double D sized breasts and lifted it, as if she was about to toss it over her shoulder. As if he was a goldfish at feeding time, Mike's mouth involuntarily opened with the obvious hope that she was about to fill his waiting mouth with her big tit. "Yeah. I'm Mike," he said still taking to her tits and staring at her mountainous breasts. "Our perversions complement one another. With me loving big tits and you having big tits and with you being a cocksucker and me hoping to have my cock sucked, I think we can really help one another, if you know what I mean. What do you think?" "Gotcha, honey. I know exactly what you mean, baby, and we'd make a good team," said Kenisha shaking his hand and smiling at him before returning to her seat. "Anyone else who'd like to share?" A young, attractive and fairly normal looking 30-something-year-old man wearing a suit and tie stood. "I'd like to share." "Take the podium," said Joe applauding him with the others applauding him too. "I'm Robert and my mother is Tanya. I'm a pervert and I need help." "Hi Robert," said the group. "Incest is my perversion. I love my mother a little too much. She's a real estate agent and always dresses for her job. Every day she looks hot," he said smiling, as if he was envisioning his mother. "As are many men attracted to their mothers, I'm attracted to my Mom. Blonde, blue-eyed, busty, and beautiful, I'd love to strip her naked and have sex with her. Unable to find a job after graduating college, I still live at home. Unlike Kenisha who has guilt after sucking cock, I have no guilt incestuously lusting over my Mom. Only, I know incest is wrong." "Incest is best," said someone from the audience. "Quiet please. Let's give Robert his chance to tell his story," said Joe. "I've gone out of my way to see my mother naked. I've gone out of my way to expose myself to her. Tits and pussy for cock and balls, I'm just as excited seeing my Mom naked as I am with her seeing me naked. Acting as if I have something important to tell her, hoping to see her without her clothes, I impatiently wait and quietly listen at her bedroom door until I think she's undressing or dressing and quickly open her door without knocking. I've caught her naked and topless more than once. Well preserved, looking like a cross between a blonde and much younger version of Mimi Rogers and Raquel Welch, she has such a shapely body for a 45-year-old woman. Routinely, I catch her in her bra and panties. When I catch her so indisposed, acting as if she's not even embarrassed, she stands there not making any move to cover herself and says to knock the next time." "Eww, I love you Mommy," said a woman in the crowd. "We only have the one bathroom and when she's in the shower, I walk in on her on the pretense that I have to pee. If she didn't want me to see her naked, she'd lock her door. Right?" He looked around the room, as if waiting for someone to agree with him. "Maybe she trusts you not to peep on her," said someone from the audience. "So wanting to rip open the shower curtain, I watch her naked shadow behind the nearly transparent, plastic material as she soaps up and rinses off her magnificent body," he said so focused on what he wanted to say that either he didn't hear or he ignored the previous comment. "Then, when I go to my room to masturbate over having seen her naked silhouette, when she's finished with her shower and wearing just a small towel that barely covers the bottom of her cleavage to just below her pussy, she always opens my bedroom door to tell me to knock the next time. I just want to rip the towel from her beautiful, naked body," he said raising his voice. "I wonder what she'd do, if I did. I wonder what she'd do if she was standing there naked." "Maybe if you tickled her or called for pizza delivery, she'd drop her towel," said someone laughing. "Please hold your comments, unless asked to comment by the speaker," said Joe. Robert looked out over the crowd with a sexually excited look. Then, he stepped out from behind the podium, unzipped himself, and reached his hand inside his pants. "Sorry, Robert, there's no masturbating here," said Joe. "Sorry," said Robert zipping his pants. "Please continue with your story," said Joe. "Even though she tells me to knock the next time, when I barge in on her, she opens my bedroom door without knocking and barges in on me. Always, as if she knows what I'm doing, she catches me with my cock in my hand and stroking myself," he said. "Probably because you're always masturbating over your mother," said the blonde woman. When Robert looked down at her, she pulled out a book from her purse, "Mommy, I Moaned." Holding it up in front of her face for Robert to see the title, she started silently reading. Robert looked at her book and then looked at her with a face full of sexual excitement. "Miss?" Joe looked at the woman and shook his head. She returned the book to her pocketbook. "Sorry, Robert, please continue," said Joe. "Even though my cock is exposed and even though I'm still stroking myself, she stands there staring at my erect prick. Just as she makes no attempt to cover her nakedness when I catch her undressing and dressing in her bedroom, an incestuous game we play, I don't hide what I'm doing either. With her obviously enjoying my masturbation show, sexually inspired by her standing there watching me, I stroke myself faster and harder. She watches me shoot a load of cum all over my naked body before she closes my bedroom door. Just as we're both afraid to take the first step to cross that imaginary line of incest, I know she wants me as much as I want her. Perverts' Anonymous Summer Session "Sounds to me like you've already crossed the imaginary line of incest," mumbled the hot blonde. "She always parades around me in her sexy, flimsy, nearly transparent, and low cut nightgown with nothing underneath," said Robert either not hearing or ignoring the blonde. "Every time she leans in the refrigerator, stands in front of the TV in the evening without any other lights on in the living room, or walks by the big bay window in the morning with the sun pouring in, I can see through her nightgown, as if she's naked. Returning the favor, I'm always exposing myself to her. She looks but--" "I think we have the idea, Robert. Thank you for sharing," said Joe. "Is there anyone else who'd like to share their perversion with us?" "I'd like to share," said a cute, redheaded, professional football, cheerleader type. "The floor is all yours," said Joe. As she walked by the men to take the podium, Larry stared at her ass, Mike stared at her breasts, and Joe stared at her feet. "Hi everyone. I'm Jenna." she said jumping around the podium stage with a back flip, a handstand, and a leg split as if she was auditioning for the head cheerleading position instead of telling her story at a Perverts' Anonymous meeting. "J-E-N-N-A, she said while making signs with her arms in the shapes of the letter of the alphabet that comprised her name. "Hi Jenna." "Well, like um, much like Robert, incest is my perversion too. Only, instead of being hot for my Mommy, like um, I'm hot for my Daddy. In case you didn't already guess by my hot body," she said standing away from the podium to toss out her hip and, with a straight forward kick, raised her ankle to her forehead, "like, um, I used to be a cheerleader and a gymnast. Like, um, I enjoy teasing my Dad by having him help me with my holds and poses. Like, um, there's not a part of my body that Daddy hasn't inadvertently touched and felt," she said running her tongue across her lips. "J-E-N-N-A," said Larry under his breath. "I'd love to bend and twist her in a pretzel." "Being that it's been so hot lately, like, um, 90's every day, I live in my barely there bikini. Like, um, home from college, I relax by the pool, while doing handstands, back flips, and leg splits. Double jointed, I can actually put both of my ankles behind my head. "Wow," said Larry, Mike, Joe, and Christine all at the same time. "I'm always falling out of and losing my bikini top. Like, um, oops," she said with a perverted laugh. "Daddy works from home and I always ask him to put sunscreen on my nearly naked body. He takes his time massaging the crème in my soft supple skin, especially all over my ass checks and the side of my exposed breasts. Sometimes, pretending that I don't know he's home and looking, like, um, I enjoy laying out back topless. He thinks that I don't know that he's looking but I know he is. No doubt, like um, father like daughter, as horny as I am, like, um, he's as hot for me as I am for him," she said suddenly looking down at the blonde woman. Again, as if not paying attention to the speaker, the blonde reached in her purse and pulled out another book and held it up for Jenna to see, as she silently read, "Daddy, I Groaned." When Jenna saw what the blonde was reading, as if suddenly dizzy with desire, she reached out a hand for the podium to steady her balance. Then, as if sexually aroused, she inhaled a deep breath, and bit her lip. "Ahem," said Joe causing the blonde to put the book away. "One time, like, um, after having broken up with my boyfriend and feeling so sad and horny, like, um, I pretended that I was drunk. Crying on his shoulder, acting too drunk to know any better, I acted as if my father was my old boyfriend. While he consoled me, like, um, I started French kissing him. When he stopped me from kissing him and finally pulled away from me, I removed my bikini in front of him. Like, um, I actually stripped myself naked. Then, when I spotted his erection, I stuck my hand down his bathing suit and, like, um, wrapped my hand around his cock. I knew he wanted me, but instead of giving me what I wanted, like, um, he put me to bed." "I love you, Daddy," said someone from the audience. "Like, like, um, um, I so want to suck my father's cock and would have had he given me any encouragement. Like um, why is that so wrong to want to give Daddy some pleasure? Like um, why can't I blow my Daddy? When we splash around in the pool he accidentally on purpose feels my breasts, fingers my nipples, and grabs my ass. I continue having sexual fantasies about fucking and sucking my--," "Like, um, thanks you for sharing, Jenna. Like, um, I think we all get the idea," said Joe looking over the crowd before looking at his watch. "We have time for one more speaker before we end the meeting. Is there anyone else who'd like to share?" "I'd like to share," said the blonde, pretty woman. "I'm Susan," she said turning to look behind her without standing. "I'm perverted and I need help." "Hi Susan," said everyone. "Much like everyone else, the summer season is the most difficult time of the year for me too. With the warmer weather, I have the constant need to expose myself. So long as it appears accidental, I so love flashing my body to unsuspecting men. Flashing my panties and/or my tits, I love leaving them wondering if they were flashed accidentally or on purpose." "Please stand and take the podium, Susan, to tell us your story," said Joe. Susan stood just as her short, wraparound skirt, somehow got caught in her chair, ripped wide open, and fell to the floor. Her long, shapely legs, her pussy mound, and her camel toe, evident through her bright, white, tight, cotton, bikini panties, were immodestly exposed to everyone. Unabashedly turning to face the crowd, she made no attempt to cover herself or to retrieve her skirt. "Oops," she said putting her hands to her face as if she was Marilyn Monroe standing on the subway grate and a train passed beneath her to blow up her white dress with a big breeze. "That's the third this week my skirt has fallen off me. Why does this always happen to me? Sorry," she said looking down at her panty before looking up at all those who stared. "Please don't look at my panties," she said turning her back to the audience to bend at the waist. When she took her sweet time to retrieve her skirt from the floor, Larry stood up on his chair for a better look of her panty clad ass and in between her legs. "I'm so very embarrassed," she said turning around again to face the audience while wrapping her skirt around herself. As if she was a female version of Buster Keaton reincarnated and as if she was wearing breakaway clothes, when she walked to the podium, she somehow caught her blouse on a loose nail and ripped it wide open. Recoiling in feigned shock, she struggled to pull her blouse free of the nail. Then, as if her bra was a jack-in-the-box and she was already so tightly wound, her front snapping bra literally flew open to expose her perfect, C cup breasts. Now Mike stood up on his chair for a better look of Susan's tits, titties, jugs, boobs, melons, tatas, knockers, breasts, air bags, bazookas, and big balloons. "Sorry," said Susan with a laugh while making no attempt to cover her nakedness. "If I wasn't such an exhibitionist, I'd be embarrassed, but I'm not. Exhibitionism is my sexual perversion," she said throwing her hands up in the air and jumping up and down with her breasts bouncing while still on full display, as her skirt fell to the floor again to expose her panty. "I'm an exhibitionist." "I know you," said Joe staring at her panty and then staring at her feet before looking up at her face. "I'd recognize your panty and feet anywhere. You're that woman who comes in my shoe store to try on boots a size too small while flashing me your bright, white, tight, cotton, bikini panties. "Guilty," said Susan with a laugh. "And I know you," said Larry. "You're that woman on the bus and the train who always flashes me your panty and bra. "Guilty again," said Susan with a shrug. "And I know you," said Mike. "You're that woman on the beach who loses her bikini top, just as I walk by you and again as I walk by you going the other way." "Sorry, but I love flashing my tits," said Susan. "I don't know you but I rove you," said Christine. "Let's fawk. You're so haaawt." "Let's get her," said Joe. "I'll take her feet." "I'll take her ass," said Larry. "I'll take her tits," said Mike. "And I'll take her pussy," said Christine. The three men and one woman chased Susan around the room, until a Catholic Priest and Nun appeared from out of nowhere to stop the action. "In the name of God, unhand her," said the Nun holding up her crucifix as if warding off the Devil. "I'm Sister Mary Kathryn Elizabeth from the order of the Most Holy Virgins and I have plans for rehabilitating this young, sexy, beautiful, exhibitionistic woman." "Oh, no you don't, Sister Mary Kathryn Elizabeth. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost," said the priest signing himself. "Over my dead body will you take this beautiful girl into your convent of lascivious lesbians. I have plans for this woman on her knees and prone at the altar. I'll take over from here," said the priest. "She's coming with me to my rectory." "Father O'Malley, what are you doing here?" "I was going to share, I mean, I noticed a member of my flock and I wanted to listen to what--" "You ought to be ashamed, Father." "You should ashamed too, Sister. What are you doing here?" "Me? Um, I, um, was collecting for the poor and needy. Yeah, that's it," said Sister Mary Kathryn Elizabeth. Joe looked from Sister Mary Kathryn Elizabeth and Father O'Malley to Susan. "Let's get her," said Joe. Joe, Larry, and Christine grabbed poor Susan and ripped off her panties while Kenisha grabbed Mike. She lifted her top and bra and impaled Mike's mouth on her nipple. Going from one breast to the other, he sucked one breast while caressing the other. Then, with Mike still attached to her big breasts as if he was a Remora fish attached to a shark, Kenisha fell to her knees, unzipped his pants, and reached her hot, horny hand inside. She pulled out his cock and started sucking him while he caressed her big tits and fingered her black, erect nipples. With Joe prone on the floor feeling Susan's feet and sucking on her toes, Larry was on his knees tossing Susan's salad, and Christine was on her knees licking Susan's pussy. Father O'Malley and Sister Mary Kathryn Elizabeth were fucking and sucking in the back of the room. "This Perverts' Anonymous meeting hasn't helped me. I'm going home to fuck my Mommy," said Robert. "Like, um, this meeting sucks. I'm going home to suck my Daddy," said Jenna. That was the first and last Perverts' Anonymous Summer Session or any session Perverts' Anonymous had. THE END This is a Summer Lovin' contest story. Please don't forget to vote.