Searching For Mother. free porn video

Warning

This is a tale of my search for professional help with my breastfeeding and domination obsessions with Escorts and Dominatrices in the U.K. Its pretty full on. Don’t read it if you are offended by prostitution or adult nursing or water sports or anything else. Some of it has appeared before on Literotica, but this is a revised and expanded text. I am the original author.

Introduction

Some twenty or so years ago, I was depressed. I have never had a lot of good physical health, and I felt exhausted after so many health and personal crises over so long. I wont bore you with it all reader, but I decided I should stop trying to be something I am not in my personal and sexual relationships, and to cut a long story short, and following my overcoming the depression, I ended up visiting dominatrices and escorts looking for play nursing experiences and so on. I was going to indulge what had been, up to then, a more or less furtive passion for women with very large breasts,and play at being the rather pathetic needy little boy that I now felt was my real sexual persona. Hitherto, I had been just pretending to be what I thought was normal, and so had probably been boring my two wives and one mistress for getting on for half my life. I was not, and am not, interested in any kind of normal sex;I wanted to worship a woman's body, to feed from her, to serve her with my mouth as much as I could,because I had realised that the core me was, despite my adult appearance, just a useless little boy.

I quickly found that I wasn't that unusual, although a lot of other men like me also wanted to dress up as babies, wear nappies/diapers and unlearn their toilet training. That, I found, was not for me. So, that meant it took time to find the right lady and there were some strange experiences along the way- not all of them terrible, by any means- but not always hitting the right note either. So these are some of the more successful ones.

1) Alice

But eventually, I did find a lady who became my first true Mother-substitute. She was pleasingly well built, of an Afro-Caribbean background, with very large floppy breasts, so heavy that they hung down over her big belly, large and fat around the nipple area, the nipples themselves being very black and thick. She had the right combination of strictness and warmth and having made me undress in front of her, she made me undress her. Before very long I was cuddled up to her on her bed, holding her massive breast and sucking blissfully, feeling warm and peaceful. My penis, often uncertain in its habits,swelled and throbbed to fully erect, although she had not touched it. I already knew this was exactly what I wanted, but I was overwhelmed with joy and almost cried when I tasted her milk. She didn’t have a massive flow, but I could taste it on my tongue and as we continued and switched from one breast to the other, I noticed that the nipple on the breast I wasn’t sucking dripped, very slowly. She held me very tightly, from which I concluded she found the experience at least as pleasurable as I did,gasping and sighing as we just lay there in ecstasy. Eventually, she told me quite firmly to stop, and then she rearranged herself on the bed and told me to kneel on the floor, between her open thighs. Of course, I thought I knew what I was doing and almost buried my face in her lovely big vulva, but she pulled me away and instructed me just how she wanted to be licked, which was gently and slowly, starting at her large lips and moving inwards and upwards. So I took my time over it, and when she climaxed it was extraordinarily violent, almost suffocating me between her enormous thighs and drowning me in her juices. I felt very privileged and happy and we lay on the bed apart from one another in languorous euphoria. But it wasn’t over.

She got up and produced an old fashioned china chamber pot from a wardrobe. Placing it on the floor where I could clearly see her, she squatted over it and pissed. This was indescribably erotic, and reminded me of the time in my early teens when I had furtively watched my aunt piss in a pot as I watched her through a knot-hole in the wooden beach hut we had rented when the whole family was on a seaside holiday. I had been aroused by the sight of a woman pissing then, but somehow had forgotten about it, and it reinforced my feelings of being excited to bursting point, but also of being subject to this lovely large woman's authority. When her strong stream died away and she was still squatting over the pot, golden drops still falling from her, she looked at me with an expression that was between a big smile and a sneer. “ Don’t you want to drink it?” she asked. Of course, I did , and even more so because I had never drunk urine before, nor had it ever occurred to me before that moment that I would ever want to. I was also in a frenzy to get down on all fours and put my face in the pot and drink it up like a dog, but she restrained me , and put her arm around me as she gently tipped the contents of the pot into my open mouth, mouthful by mouthful. The taste of her warm piss was so wonderful, somewhere between the taste of slightly flat wine and some sort of lemon cordial, it was just as if she had poured me out a glass of the most refreshing thing you might want on a hot summer day, and I was so thirsty.

“That tastes so good” I said “ I never knew pee could taste like that.”

“ Doesn’t my milk taste better?” she asked. Well, now she mentioned it, it did. It was warm and very sweet, but not thick like cows milk. But I had always hoped and believed that breast milk would taste beautiful, whereas pee I had always assumed would be bitter and unpleasant. I told her so, and she was evidently pleased with what I said because within seconds we were cuddled up together again, my mouth latched on to one of her enormous breasts, and I had her milk again to mix with the after taste of her urine. We lay like that for ages more, the only movement being the soft changeover of breasts to my mouth. Then I became aware that she was slowly wanking herself while I sucked, and eventually she lifted her nipple from my mouth and gave herself up to another shattering orgasm. My arm still lay her across her big belly as she came, and I am sure I could feel her insides almost rippling beneath the skin, and she grunted rhythmically, in a very satisfyingly erotic way.

After some minutes of lying still, waiting for her breathing to calm down, she turned her attention to my pathetic stiff little penis, which had been quivering and dripping for for what seemed like hours now. She held it lightly between her thumb and forefinger and told me that she wanted her little boy to get all that sticky stuff out of him now. “ Oh yes Mummy!” I gasped, and quickly did as I was told, kneeling to one side of her and stroking it while she lay there looking at me, a huge smile on her face.

“ I want you to shoot your cream over me.” she said ”Show me how you play with yourself.”

So I wanked myself slowly and sensuously, until I couldn’t stop myself any more. “Oh, I'm going to come Mummy!” I gasped and shot drops of sticky spunk all over her lovely big belly, letting pleasure flush over me like a warm breeze, my white drops of cum in a perfect line on her black skin.

This remains perhaps the most perfect sexual experience I have ever had, and I had to wait until I was over fifty before I experienced it. After that I visited Alice ( I never knew if that was her real name, but I think it was- it seemed natural enough) many times. As on that first occasion, she was incredibly generous with her time; on that occasion I had booked and paid for just two hours, but ended up being there nearly five, and I was embarrassed because I felt I should give her more money, but I hadn’t brought any more with me. However, she just laughed it off and after that I came for “ the afternoon” and paid her about double the two hour rate.

The idea of paying a lady for this sort of experience may strike some people as distasteful, but I would ask them to consider a moment. At that time, obviously, I had real life commitments and that included my marriage, which I valued. The commercial transaction limits what could be seen as the danger of an emotional bond- it is an acknowledgement that we are both adults enjoying an activity that (hopefully) gives us both pleasure but that we are not having to pretend that we are something to each other that we are not. In that respect, I believe it it is more honest, and besides, most ladies doing escort and dominatrix work need to earn money, and I am very happy to pay them to indulge me. It is a joy when they, as Alice did, so obviously indulge themselves as well, but as with real c***dren, its all about me in the end, and I accept I have to pay for that.

Every afternoon with Alice followed much the same pattern as the first. She told me she still had milk because her teenage daughter had also had a daughter of her own, and while Alice was looking after the baby when her daughter was at work, it seemed natural to her to offer it her breast , if only for comfort. According to her, though her daughter was her youngest c***d and though it had been getting on for sixteen years since she had weaned her, only a few days of suckling her granddaughter brought her flow back. Though I know that for other women, it takes much more effort and pills and potions besides, I believed Alice completely, as I also know other women find the mere sound of a crying baby will stimulate their nipples and create a desire to feed. I had contacted Alice only a couple of months after the weaning of her granddaughter and I just happened to get lucky. Hers was the only breast milk I have ever tasted, and while it was very sweet,the memory of her nursing me like that is very precious.

I continued seeing Mummy Alice every month, and sometimes more often, for almost two years. Then, once again I was ill, and had to have an operation followed by five or six weeks convalescence. When I saw Alice again, and latched on to her enormous heavy and floppy breasts, her milk trickled into my mouth just as it had the first time, but somehow , she didn’t seem to enjoy it as much. Also, I noticed, the flat was not as tidy as it used to be. She lived in a pretty run down area, but her home was always neat and tidy- or it had been. Something had changed, but I didn’t know what. I would have done anything I could to help. But I couldn’t find the question which would give me the answer. Whatever was wrong- and I have to face the unpleasant truth that it could simply have been she was bored with me – I could not find out what it was. The last time I visited, the place was in a mess and it was hard to find space even to put my clothes. Worse, the next day I noticed I was covered in little red insect bites- fleas, bed bugs? I couldn’t tell. When I rang Alice again, I tentatively suggested she meet me in a hotel. It wasn’t that I really wanted to do that, because hotels mean that other people might get involved, chiefly receptionists and so on, but whatever was going on with Alice, I wanted to try and return to the intense fun we used to have. However, to my complete distress,she was offended by my suggestion and sadly, that was that. I never saw her again.



2 Yvonne

It took some time for me to find another Mummy, but eventually I found Yvonne, a big and very buxom lady who had modelled for the sort of magazines that catered for men obsessed with very large breasts. Well, that would be me then. Some of her pictures are still out there on the internet, but they are all very old. I don’t know precisely how long it had been since she had last done a photo shoot, or whether it was merely that the photographers art had managed to make her look younger than her actual age, but I felt, however un-gallantly, that she had filled out just a little bit since those pictures were taken and there might have been just one or two of what may best be described as laughter lines in her face. Howsoever that may have been, and I really am not complaining, her breasts were nothing less than magnificent. Really big, but also really firm, jutting out from her chest almost like airships, only the weight of them dragging them to the most pleasing of downward angles, and her skin was so fair and white, you could see the blood vessels through the skin, like fine blue threads. The really large areolas around the nipples were a light soft brown and the nipples themselves thick and a darker brown. The first time I saw her ( and every subsequent time, since she never quite remembered who I was, or if she did, she couldn't remember what it was I wanted) she received me sitting on the edge of the bed dressed in a tight jumper and a short skirt. I had to haltingly and somewhat nervously explain what I was after. I find these things quite easy to write about, but almost too difficult to actually speak, and she was initially concerned that I was some sort of virgin. However, when she thought she understood me, she told me to stay in the room we were in and get undressed, while she got changed elsewhere.

Already, I felt this would be nothing like I had enjoyed with Alice, with whom I had so enjoyed gently unzipping her dress and unhooking her bra before kneeling in front of her and taking off her shoes and stockings and voluminous knickers , heavy with the scent of her always damp private parts. However, these thoughts were banished when, after I had got undressed and sat nervously naked in an armchair, Yvonne re-entered the room topless, giving me my first view of those amazing breasts as previously described, and clad only in the sort of corset that provided no support to them, but had suspenders to which she had attached sheer back stockings with seams up the back, thus accentuating her bare behind, since she had dispensed with knickers as well. I couldn’t help but gasp. She stood over me, her nipples right in front of my face.

“Well, little boy, have you been good?”

“Yes, Mummy,” I answered, but I still wasn’t sure whether this was what I wanted and nor was my penis, still disinterestedly limp.

“If you have been good,” she said “Mummy will let you suck. But do you know what will happen if you have not been good?”

“No, Mummy.”

“Mummy will spank you. Hard.” My treacherous member started to swell up at this point, and she took that for a vote in favour of spanking.

“I think you have been bad.”

“Oh no, Mummy”

“Oh yes!” she said, and she yanked me out of my seated position so that I was standing, then tucked me under one arm so that I was bending forward, and held me there- she was strong!- and really hit my poor bottom hard with the flat of her hand, repeatedly. To be honest, this was not the first time I had been spanked, but this was much harder than anything I had experienced in the past, and it really hurt. I yelled, my eyes certainly watered and it might be said I cried. She had such a grip on me ( I had not suspected she could be that strong- even though I accept I am not much of a physical specimen, I was taller than her even though she was wearing heels) and I was so overwhelmed by the feeling of being crushed into her side while her palm and fingers landed repeatedly on my soft bum cheeks, that by the time I became aware that I might actually be shedding tears, it was over. The whole thing had probably lasted less than a minute, but my backside was on fire, I felt I might collapse if she let go of me, and I couldn't stop making a silly noise.

“Oh, there, there!” she cooed “Stop making that noise now.”

She let go of me just enough to pull me around to her front and push my face into her cleavage. I tried to stop vocalising, and to get my breath, but it was hard, and my bum felt like I had sat on an oven. If anything, I felt I was going to cry more now she had stopped and my face was enveloped by her beautiful breasts. I became aware that my stupid penis was now completely rigid and in some part of my mind I was angry at how far outside my control it was.

In some clumsy way, without moving my face , she manoeuvred us both back to the bed, and we arranged ourselves so she could put a nipple in my mouth. This was heaven. My bum still hurt,my face was wet and she really had reduced me to being a stupid tearful little boy. I could do nothing but suck, and I did. This wasn't the same sort of nursing as I had experienced with Alice. At her breast I had opened my mouth wider to suck right over the nipple area , so that the nipple itself was up against the roof of my mouth. With Yvonne, I sucked hard at the nipple in a way that it is perhaps more overtly sexual, whereas Alice, possibly by having actual experience of breastfeeding, moved my mouth to how she wanted it and gently entreated me to suck harder. Yvonne sighed and cuddled me tighter to her the more I sucked her nipple itself, so I kept on doing it, and after a while my bum hurt a little less, and she moved me over to her other breast and played with the nipple I had stopped sucking with her free hand, lying with her head back, her eyes closed and her mouth just slightly open, breathing in long heavy sighs.

After long minutes like this, she gently pulled her breast away, and smiled down at me.

“Are you going to make Mummy feel nice now?” she asked.

I needed no further prompting to move down the bed and placed my head between her thighs. My bum was no more than a distant glow now, but I was very ready to obey her without any further indecision. Tentatively, I licked her lips, but that was the wrong thing to do.

“You pathetic little boy, lick me properly!” she growled. I put my tongue straight on her clit, and was rewarded with a throaty moan.

“Oh! Better! Good boy!”

I licked her rapidly and as hard as I knew how, but I could sense she was still impatient. After a a few more minutes, she pushed my head out of the way, reached down and pushed her fingers into herself with one hand and frigged herself with the other. I could only watch helplessly as she came, with much heavy breathing and long moans. There was a minute or so silence, while I just revelled in the sight of her lying there with her hands in and on herself, her enormous breasts pushed upwards by her arms, erect nipples pointing at the ceiling, her eyes closed and her shoulder length brown hair, so neatly brushed before we started, lying in some disarray on the pillow.

You might wonder if working ladies really have orgasms with their clients? In my experience, they do. Yvonne was putting on a show for me, I accept- but it didn't involve acting; or, if it did, she need not be have been doing that line of work at all as surely a brilliant career in T V or films awaited her.

With a sigh, she got up and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Kneel here,” she said pointing at a spot on the carpet in front of her knees and slightly to her right. Like a good boy I did just that.

“Show me your pathetic little dick.” she said.

I reached for my penis, still hard but, as she had amply demonstrated, utterly useless to her, and lifted it up a bit, so she could see how stiff I was. With a very light touch of one hand, she caressed it for a second or two, causing me to gasp with pleasure, and smiled.

“You silly little boy. Do you think I am going to pull it off for you?”

“No Mummy.” I said.

“You are going to have to show me how you do it, aren't you?”

“Yes Mummy.”

“Are you going to wank your little thing for me? Show me how you do it when you haven't got a Mummy to supervise you?”

“I want to do what you want Mummy. I want to be a good boy.”

“Right then. Ask me nicely, and I will let you suck on this luscious nipple...” here she lifted up the breast nearest to me and ran her left hand idly over the length of it and then pulled her nipple just a little more erect “ ..and supervise you pumping your little boys useless spunk out for my pleasure.”

“Oh thank you Mummy.”

Trust me, at that moment, I really was grateful.

“Please may I nurse and be supervised in wanking myself empty, please?”

“I think you can. But I don't want you to get any mess on the carpet.” Here, she reached over to a bedside cabinet and produced a saucer, which hitherto might have been used as an ash tray. She put it in my left hand, then she gently lifted her breast to put the nipple in reach of my mouth, and I inclined my head to enclose it with my lips and tongue.

“Now, suck and wank yourself off, like the pathetic little thing you are. Make sure you put all your mess in that saucer.”

I wanked myself as carefully as I could, and sucked her nipple tenderly, knowing it would be the last time I would be allowed it for that day. She encouraged me by saying ' That's right!' and ' Good Boy!' at odd intervals. Eventually, I felt myself starting to come and took her nipple into my mouth as far as I could, and pointed my swollen glans at the saucer I was holding. My cum shot out in lumpy loads, and I grunted with pleasure, before I let go of her nipple with a long sigh.

“Was that good? What do you say to Mummy?”

“Thank you Mummy”

“What for?”

“Thank you Mummy for supervising me and letting me come”

“Good boy. Now take all that muck with you upstairs, put it down the loo, and wash your silly thing and make sure its clean.”

As with everything else, I did exactly as she said, and returned to the room to find her still sitting on the edge of the bed. I could not help but look at her lovely breasts again, but she noticed my gaze, and told me I could get dressed.

As I did so, she asked “Was that good?”

“Yes, very good, thank you.”

“I enjoy playing with submissive men. In fact, it's my favourite thing in this job.”

“I noticed you were having a good time.” I said.

“How are you getting back?” she asked.

“On the train.”

“Well, when you are on the train and thinking about the lovely time we have had, I shall be wanking myself off again. Think about that.”

Did she? Or was saying that all part of the show? I don't know. When I did get outside, I looked at my watch and noted that I had had the time I had paid for more or less exactly, yet to my notice she had never looked at a watch- she wasn't even wearing one. I had to admire her professionalism. That was the real difference in the experiences I had had. Alice charged for her time but was very free with it, and when you were with her, she was basically herself. Yvonne, was a skilled professional who charged for realising your fantasies.

I debated with myself for some time about visiting Yvonne again, but in the end , it was no contest. I knew perfectly well I wanted her to spank me really, even though it hurt a lot, and that when she told me how pathetic and useless I was, I actually felt good about that.

Nor was it always the same in subsequent sessions. Admittedly, I had the difficulty I have already mentioned about how she didn't seem to remember anything about the last time whenever I visited, so I had to ask to be treated like a little boy and call her Mummy every time (maybe it was part of the humiliation, but I couldn't be certain) but once she started by having me attend her while she took a bath and made me soap all the parts of her that needed soaping, which led to her coming before I had even so much as kissed her nipples, which disconcerted me a bit, but after that and after I had dried her thoroughly we had a very satisfying nursing session, and only then did she find an excuse to spank me. On another occasion she was naked with only a very mumsy sort of housecoat on, which she made me unbutton to expose her breasts. That may have been the session when, for the first time, she let me watch her piss, then took a towel and soaked it in her urine and rubbed it all over my cock and balls. I really enjoyed that. Besides being spanked, she always made sure that I had to wank myself while she watched me, verbally humiliated me as I did it, then made me thank her abjectly afterwards for allowing me the privilege. I loved it.

But one thing I did not love was the phone ringing in the next room. This was a mobile with a distinctive ring- I always assumed it was other punters ringing hopefully, since the convention was that you rang in the morning, and she saw you in the afternoon of that day or another day. But it was a good day if it didn't ring at least once during our time together. For the most part she ignored it, and I tried not to hear it. I know she had an answering system because I had spoken to it once or twice myself. But in one session, the phone rang and she smoothly asked me if I wouldn't mind her answering it because it might be her sister who would be needing a pick up from the airport. I said I didn't mind, of course, but when I thought about it, it was odd since if it had been her sister, and she did need picking up, what was to become of the session I had booked? Of course, it turned out not to be her sister, but indeed it was another punter wanting instant gratification. She got rid of him, resumed her role and on we went. But some months later, the exact same thing happened again, and she asked me the same thing again, and of course, I remembered, whereas, as I already suspected, her memory was poor, and she had forgotten she had done this to me before. Again,it turned out not to be her sister, but I hated the sudden ejection from our fantasy world, and I did not know what the true reason for her answering these calls at these times were, or why she had to make such an absurd excuse.

The third time it happened I said, “I know, it might be your sister who needs picking up from the airport...” in a fairly deadpan way, which obviously struck home. It ruined the session, for again, it was not the fabled sister,and she was obviously too cross to resume her role properly, and we could not get the atmosphere back. That was the last session we had. I had enjoyed nearly everything we did, she was beautiful and inventive and knew how to excite me very well, but in the end I was just another face in the crowd to her, and on a personal level,we had never got to know each other well enough for her to have any confidence in my discretion if she told me the truth about why on some days, she had to answer that phone. In writing about it, it seems such a small thing now, but it upset me at the time, and I decided to resume my search.

3) Olivia

Again, it took some time. By now I was using the internet and e-mails and I found Olivia on a well known site for “punters”, as I had learned clients of working ladies were called. Olivia was not too keen on what I was looking for, or so she said, but when we met up there was no actual difficulty at all. We had agreed that I would not call her Mummy, and she had no problem with anything else I had proposed. She lived in a bungalow in a small town south west of London. The front was well screened from the road by a large hedge and a tree, and you entered by lifting the latch on a tall iron gate in the hedge, but instead of approaching the front door a few steps immediately in front of you, you followed the path round to the side of the house, where she had left a door open. Through the door and you were standing in her kitchen and she would be leaning against a tall stool. “ Hello boy” she said.

Olivia was big. She was tall, taller than me, with long red hair only slightly grey at the roots, broad shoulders and a big fat belly that she took no trouble to try to conceal. She was older than me, and I would have been about fifty six or seven by this time,so she would be in her sixties. She had piercing grey/blue eyes, and a broad mouth and lips which seemed always to be on the verge of laughing at you. She walked slowly and was always a bit breathless. Its ironic I should mention this, because I am exactly the same nowadays.

I had to undress in front of her, leaving my clothes ( with the all important envelope) on the kitchen table. She would only be wearing a long kaftan but once I was standing naked in front of her, I felt oddly vulnerable. My unreliable dick was as always only just about making its mind up, so she would encase it in her big warm hand and maybe wank it once or twice. Once I was hard, she reached into a drawer and produced some lengths of pink ribbon. The smaller length she tied around my balls and finished with a bow. The larger length went around my hips and in a loop below the glans of my penis,flattening it against my belly and then she again tied it all in a small bow neatly over the penis. Then she remarked on how I was a pathetic sissy before we went into the bedroom, which was only next door to the kitchen.

The king size bed was covered in a plastic sheet, which didnt look very inviting, but I was soon to learn the utility of it. Olivia pulled off her kaftan, and revealed a breathtaking sight. I have already mentioned her belly; it was enormous, and hung over her genital area in an apron. Her breasts were possibly the largest I have ever seen in real life. They hung down, flabby and stretched where they began at her upper ribs but enormously thick and bulbous from the middle onwards, each breast swelling outwards, fat and quivering like jelly. Her nipples were thick and red, but had very small areolas in comparison. As she manoeuvred herself on to the bed, so she lay almost dead centre ( I would soon discover why), her belly rolled back and the enormity of her cunt was revealed. It was like a great slash between her legs. It was mostly shaved, but she had thick fat outer lips that fell open, so that she gaped. I could even see her clit while I was still standing by the side of the bed, a thick short knob, very red. My unreliable penis became much more reliable with her. It strained against the ribbon she had tied it up with, so it was now almost too tight. I could feel it throbbing.

The plain truth is, I find fat on ladies very erotic and exciting. There is a limit somewhere. I have seen porn pictures of women so fat and with so many folds of skin, it was like they were disappearing into themselves. That is too much and does nothing for me. But Olivia, probably larger than any woman I had been with before, made me very hot and excited when she was naked. I couldnt take my eyes off her. I was standing there with my mouth open, when she started giving me my orders.

“Boy! Lie by my side and suck my nipple. Now. Not that one, come around the bed and lie on this side.” She slapped the plastic sheet with her left hand. “ Come on! Quickly!” I did as I was told then, and I always did whenever I was with her. I lay there and sucked “ Suck harder! You pathetic little sissy!” I sucked like I had with Alice, mouth wide, sucking hard, but I got no thanks.” You sad excuse for a man.” she would say, “ You are fucking useless. You are just like a little boy! Your tiny prick is no use to anyone. Your poor wife, how unfulfilled she must be!” At length she would quieten as I kept on sucking as vigorously as I could though I had to position my face so that her huge breast didnt cover it entirely and suffocate me, but just as I began to think I was having some effect,she would say “ Boy! Get up! Go round the other side! Suck the other nipple! Do it now!”
I ran around the bed, my throbbing penis trying to escape its bonds as I went. “ You are a pathetic little sissy boy! Your prick is useless! You can't fuck!” My mouth enveloped the other nipple and I began to suck as hard as I could. “ Harder! Suck harder!” she ordered.

Unlike my previous encounters, sessions with Olivia were not restful. I spent my time running round the bed sucking at one breast then the other, while she hurled almost continuous abuse at me.
I dont know how long this went on for, but eventually she gave a different order. “ Get back on the bed! Do it now! Get your head between my thighs. You pathetic excuse for a male. Lick my cunt!”

I went straight for it, put my face right in to her huge cunt and found her immense clit, which I didnt so much lick as suck. She kept up her flow of invective albeit she did start to sigh and groan a lot more between telling me how useless I was and my dick was.

Eventually she warned me “ When I come, I'm going to piss too. Get ready to lick it all up!”

And sure enough, she gave a mighty groan, and a great deluge of her juice nearly drowned me and within a second or two this was followed by a thick stream of urine, as she pissed like a horse. I couldnt have taken it in my mouth, I would have choked, but the pressure of our bodies on the plastic sheet allowed it to pool around her thighs and I began lapping it all up as fast as I could. The ribbons were really cutting into my dick and my balls now, but I ignored the pain and kept at it. Olivia was laughing.

“Theres a stream of pre-cum running out of your useless prick, you pathetic little boy. Make sure you drink all that up too.”

As I say, I always did as I was told, and my reward when I had finished lapping up cum juices and piss which I really enjoyed, was being told to lie back. She sat up and quickly took the ribbons from around my dick and my balls wrapping them around her forearm, and I thought she might wank me off, but she simply wrapped her long, hot and heavy body around me and with my face in her cleavage, we both went to sleep for a little while. I dont know how long we were like that, but when I woke, which was after she did, my penis was painfully rigid and pressed hard into her belly. She rose and with some effort got off the bed, then came around to my side, grabbed my balls and made me walk painfully behind her back into the kitchen. Then she let go of my balls.

“Stand there!” she ordered. I stopped.

“ I dont want a mess on my kitchen floor” she remarked and came behind me and tied my wrists behind my back with some of the ribbon, returning the rest to the drawer it came from. She also had a box of condoms in that drawer and she unwrapped one and slid it over my throbbing and dripping penis. Then, as she had when I first undressed in front of her, she cupped my penis in her hand and leaned close to me, her long red hair brushing my cheek.

“You are a pathetic, dirty, little boy. I dont spend very long on making pathetic, dirty little boys come. You will come when I tell you to” she said quietly and authoritatively,and with that she began to wank me very slowly. After maybe three or four strokes she just said quite quietly “Come!” and I did. I had absolutely no control over it, I filled the condom right up, groaning and sobbing as I did so. My orgasm shook my whole body. Olivia just stood there, her face right in front of mine, smiling broadly.

Then she slipped the condom off me, untied my wrists and said “ You can get dressed now. Would you like a cup of tea?”

Thats how we spent the afternoon. As with Alice, there was no clock watching and we would linger over tea and biscuits afterwards. At that and subsequent sessions, which always followed the same pattern more or less, I was always called Boy and I didnt call her anything or say anything much, I just followed orders. She had total control of my penis, and I was so grateful for that, as it was starting to be more and more floppy, a trend that continued to the point that I can never get more than about three quarters hard now. Occasionally, she told me she didnt want licking, she didnt give a reason, and I just carried on running around the bed sucking at her breasts until she fell asleep. Then I would lie down and wait to be taken into the kitchen and relieved of my load.

Over tea, I learned a number of things. She had never been married, never had c***dren, which surprised me as up to that point I had entertained the notion that it was c***dbirth that gave ladies huge breasts and vagina's like she had. She had never, so she said, been in love, although she had had an unreciprocated crush on another girl when she was at school. She had lost her virginity to an early boyfriend, though technically, the handle of her own hairbrush was the first entrant into her vagina and had removed her own hymen by just pressing very hard with it. She had suspected she was infertile, as she had had lots of sex with many many men, usually without protection and she had never become pregnant. She thought that physically she was a bit of a freak, and that she might really be intersex, that she was bigger and taller than most of her school friends and later most of the men she dated, who typically found her height and later her increasing weight to be more than they were comfortable with. I thought she was beautiful.

Once when I was licking her, she told me that hundreds of men had fucked her, that her cunt had had gallons of cum in it, and that all I could do was lick her and dream of licking all that mess out of her. When she said things like that, I felt really excited and my dick throbbed in sympathy. I dont really know how she knew how I would be turned on by remarks like that. She, like Yvonne, admitted that she really liked, even preferred, submissive men but they were hard to find, she thought.

Real life intervened again; I was ill, and then she was. We emailed each other a few times, but eventually she didnt reply. I think she passed away. Her ads were no longer on the punter site I had used. She had become, almost without my knowing it, a really close friend. I missed her.