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Subject: {ASSM} Flirting with Exhibitionism and Incest (5)
Date: Fri, 2 Jun 2000 06:10:14 -0400
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Flirting with Exhibitionism and Incest (5)
Greetings --
Here's another installment of my ongoing nude autobiography. :)
As you can tell from the last post, things had begun to progress from
the tame and erotic to the much more highly charged sexuality that Carla
and I came to enjoy. The incident in which Carla gave me a blow job and
masturbated herself literally around the corner from my mother fueled
all kinds of perverse fires within and between us.
Watching afternoon and evening TV with Mom became a fairly regular
past-time that fall. I used to do it before, naked and with Mom that
summer, but Carla added a new dimension to the fun that fall as her
presence around my house became more and more frequent. I still liked
to lounge around nude with both Mom and Carla present, but the more we
did it, the more I was surprised by Carla's unabashed, daredevil,
vivacious nature. She loved to push the envelope, even more than I did
at times (this will grow even more clear if I write my follow-up series
to "Flirting with Exhibitionism and Incest," which focuses on my
apartment life with Carla. That story details Carla's slow and steady
slide into a kind of depravity that eclipsed my own and our incredibly
wild sexual fun and eventual split as a result of her literally
insatiable, lust-crazed nature; if I continue to get positive feedback
on this story and if I get requests for Carla's story, I'll certainly
hammer it down eventually).
I'll give you an example that will underscore the kind of eye-opening
behavior Carla engaged in around me and my mother. In many ways, her
antics made my nudity seem tame. I know that's an incredible statement,
but you judge for yourself. I remember one night when we were watching
the tube. Carla and I were on the couch and mom was in her favorite
lounge chair, legs stretched out on the ottoman in front of her. I was
nude, Carla was in a short black T-shirt that she'd borrowed from me
after another one of our sex-romps, and Mom was in a nightgown and robe.
The lights were out in the living room, but enough light shone from the
TV to splash us all in its swirl of ever-changing hues. During a
commercial break, Carla and my mother started to talk about some aspect
of the show we were watching. As they did, Carla ran her hand lazily
and non-challantly up and down my thigh. Little by little, her pretty
red finger-nail-polished hand came closer and closer to my flaccid
member, lying lazily on my upper thigh. Finally, her fingers made
contact with my phallus and Carla cupped it gingerly and wiggled it back
and forth, back and forth, never missing a single word of the sentence
she was vocalizing. I was amazed. My mother didn't seem to take
notice, but in retrospect, I'm sure that she did because she seemed to
love to stare at me when I was in the nude (which was most of the time,
as long as my father was away on his once-weekly out of town trips, and
my sister made herself scarce). Carla treated my phallus like a
conversation piece she'd idly picked up off a coffee table and
absent-mindedly fumbled in the course of a quiet evening. She pretended
it was the most natural thing in the world to be fondling me, moving her
fingers up and down my now semi-hard shaft, entwining it in and out of
her splayed fingers and jiggling it into a longer and thicker state, all
this while holding a conversation with my mother who was just a few
short feet away!
Luckily, the show started again and my mother's eyes returned to the
television. I tried to push Carla's hand away, but she just nudged me
in the ribs and smirked at me. I eventually managed to push her away
and settle myself down. Later, I tried to scold Carla and tell her she
may have been taking things a bit too far, but she just brushed me off.
When I tried to protest some more, she silenced me with her expert lips
and tongue, not on my mouth, but on my penis.
"You were saying," she mumbled between sucks, never completely letting
my engorged phallus slip out of her mouth or off her lips.
"I just think that sometimes --" But then I felt Carla's right hand
cups my balls and her left one circle around my buttocks and suddenly a
wet finger probed deeply into my anus and wiggled around even as Carla
swallowed me deeper from the front, all the time gazing up at me with
arched eyebrows and innocent light-blue eyes, her lips stretched snugly
around my hardness. Well, that was the end of my protesting for awhile.
Another more troubling incident occurred a few nights later. The night
was chilly, even with the heat on (this may have been late October
because we all decided to watch a horror movie that night), but I still
liked the feeling of going around nude -- and yes, the feeling of
exposing myself to Carla and Mom. Carla used the cool temps as the
perfect excuse to drag a "blankie" (her term) from my bedroom and to the
couch when we joined mom in the living room for another night of TV.
She covered us up with it as we sprawled close to one another on the
couch (Mom was in her usual lounger). It wasn't long before I felt
Carla's exploring fingers all over my shaft, and, not surprisingly, it
wasn't long before I started to grow around and between those fingers,
springing out and away from Carla's hand from time to time. The lights
were dim again and I didn't think there was much danger in allowing her
to fondle me under the quilt, but then I saw the undulations her fingers
were making on the blanket's surface and the way it tented up
occasionally, and I knew that if my mother glanced over, she would know
exactly what my girlfriend was doing to me underneath the blanket. I
quickly readusted the blanket and, as best I could, covered up the
movements produced by Carla's fingers. Needless to say, she kept me in
a state of perpetual anxiety for the next couple of hours, pumping my
phallus to hardness as she casually conversed with my mother or laughed
or commented on the film, then easing off and allowing me to return to a
semi-hard state, only to begin a furious pump-job that had me close to
cumming within a minute. She was uncanny! She seemed to know when to
stop her ministrations. And then, as the movie reached its climax,
Carla made sure I reached mine, pumping with a passion until I jetted
rope after rope of sperm all over my stomach and chest. She then
proceeded to swab me down with it, all in the presence of my mother, all
but a few of her actions concealed by Carla's "blankie."
Of course, I don't think it would have mattered to Mother if we had
decided to let the blanket drop and let her see the masturbation show.
After all, it wasn't more than a week or two later that my mother caught
me in the act -- literally -- of pleasuring myself and this time, there
was no way to disguise my actions as playful gestures or anything else.
I was caught with my hard-on in my hand, stroking away and just seconds
away from bringing myself to orgasm. And that, dear readers, put an
entirely new spin on matters.
More tomorrow!
Tony
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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