Diva The Girl who tried to break Ben s Dick
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A Step Mother's Sin - Ch. 2: Mistake Two, I Join Him free porn video
Chapter 2 - The next day: my second huge mistake, I agree to join him...
I awoke and went to work, but I spent most of the following day deeply distracted about the relatively innocent interaction with Robert the night before. I was anxious on several fronts. The embarrassment of the incident notwithstanding, I also had to admit that the image of his very large, very erect penis was etched indelibly in my mind’s eye. The memory was arousing me despite my best intentions. I could not rid my mind's eye of the image of Robert's erection, no matter how hard I tried, nor could I control my physical reaction to this image.
My vagina leaked continuously, keeping the gusset of my panties damp the entire day. By the time I was leaving to return home, I felt like I had wet myself. I was confused by my constant arousal, and I was ashamed by the fact that my mind kept revisiting the very vivid image of Robert's large, thick erection. I could not stop thinking about my stepson's very hard dick.
Finally, five o'clock arrived and I went home.
That night, over dinner, Robert broached the subject once again. I was going to have to address what happened.
“Mom, I think we should talk about last night.”
“Okay, you start”
I was buying time until I could get my thoughts together.
“Do you know what I was doing when you came down the steps?”
Okay, let’s take a clinical approach to this situation, I thought. “I assume you were masturbating.”
“Yes, I was. Are your okay with me doing that in your house?”
“Of course I am. That is a normal, healthy activity for a young man your age. There is nothing wrong with that, nothing to be ashamed of,” I reassured.
“Do you do it?” he asked.
Oh my, I thought; this has taken a nasty turn. Surely he could see me last night. I took a deep breath before responding, “Yes, I have been known to masturbate on occasion.”
“How often do you masturbate, mom?”
“Robert, I am not comfortable discussing this with you.”
“Mom, you are trying to tell me that masturbation is normal, healthy and there is nothing wrong with it. Yet you don’t want to talk to me about a normal, healthy activity that you admit you do. Which is it?”
I did not want to discuss this with my stepson, but I realized he was right; we should be able to discuss this normal aspect of human sexuality like two adults.
“Okay, you are right. It is a little embarrassing, but there is nothing wrong with it, and it is normal.”
I took a long sip of my glass of merlot, trying to garner some liquid courage that would allow me to continue this embarrassing conversation.
“Yes, I masturbate, or try to, several times a week.”
“Try to?” Robert questioned.
“Yes, I try to. Here is a little known fact about your mother. It is often difficult for me to reach a climax. So I often try, but most of the time, I do not fully succeed.”
“Why do you have trouble cumming?”
“Whoa, you're not even going to use the clinically correct terms, are you? You are going directly for the street slang? Okay, we’ll use terms you are comfortable with. I guess I have trouble because I am easily distracted and struggle with the feeling that, on some level, sex is wrong. But I know that is silly way to feel. I realize that sex, and in particular masturbation, is normal and healthy. Nonetheless, these irrational feelings I have do interfere sometimes.”
After a bit more back and forth, I cleared the table and went up stairs to change. I returned wearing the t-shirt that I normally wear to bed. The shirt came down to my upper thighs, so my pale green cotton panties were modestly hidden underneath.
Robert had selected the movie 'Mandingo' from a cable station. He was on the couch wearing only a pair of loosely fitting gym shorts. Lying there bare chested, I could see he had a wonderful physique. His arms and chest were muscular and well defined. His abdomen was flat and tight. He reminded me of his father when Jim was that age. The fact that his father was the only man with whom I had had an orgasm brought back memories of wonderful sex. I missed that aspect of being married. I missed having a man in my bed regularly.
Mandingo was a sexy, R rated film about the old south and slavery, and contained considerable interracial sex scenes between the wife of a slave owner and her favorite slave. It was a steamy film.
As the scenes became more and more explicit, I could see Robert’s penis begin to grow and stiffen under the thin material of his gym shorts. Between the images on the screen and the very vivid memories of Roberts’s erection from the previous night, coupled with the growing tent in his gym shorts in front of me, I was becoming increasingly aware of my own clitoris and the growing wetness of my vagina. I also knew that my nipples had grown completely erect and were clearly visible through my t-shirt.
I was aroused and knew that, upon going to bed after watching this film, I would masturbate tonight; and I knew I could make myself cum tonight. I needed a release.
Suddenly, right there in front of me, Robert reached down and slowly massaged himself through his gym shorts. I was curious, aroused, and I tried not to act shocked. He was now obviously fully erect. After stroking himself on the outside of his gym shorts for a minute or two, he turned his head, looked directly at me as he continued to stroke himself, and said coyly, “I will if you will.”
I blushed and feigned not understanding what he was saying. In fact, I was not entirely sure I did understand what he was saying.
“You know, mom, it’s normal, healthy and there is nothing wrong with it. Join me.”
He stared shamelessly at my erect nipples before lowering his gaze to my barely covered crotch. He raised his eyes as if to say, 'Well, how about it?'
There was no longer any doubt about it, he was inviting me to masturbate with him!
“Oh, I couldn’t do that with you. It would be wrong. And it would be embarrassing.”
“You yourself told me it is normal and healthy. Come on.”
Staring directly at me, with a sly smile, he placed his hand inside his gym shorts to stroke himself skin-to-skin.
I know now, as I knew then, that I should have politely gotten up and excused myself at that moment. I should have gone to my bedroom, eliminated the temptation and masturbated in private. But I didn't.
I would like to claim I do not know why I did not get up at that moment; but the truth is I was very, very aroused by this whole perverse situation. Despite all logic and reason to the contrary, I slowly reached down as Robert watched, spread my thighs ever so slightly, fingers between my legs, and touched myself through my panties.
The gusset of my panties was very wet now, and my clitoris was very sensitive and erect.
I watched intently as Robert arched his hips, raising his buttocks off the couch, and pulled his gym shorts down to mid-thigh, placing his erect penis in plain view. It was the largest penis I had seen, thickly veined, with a well defined head and a slight purple tint. I was estimating it was seven to eight inches, and was thick. It was thicker than the vibrator that I had in my night stand, which was the largest item to work its way into my pussy up to that point and time. The large veins encasing the thick rigid shaft gave Robert's erection a dangerous, sinister appearance. His cock looked like it could split a tiny woman like me in two. It was the largest erection I had encountered in my thirty nine years.
I continued to massage my clitoris with tiny circles was I watched Robert stroke himself with increasing speed. I was on the verge of climax, but something was stopping me from crossing the line to orgasm. I could not make myself climax while Robert watched. I think I knew I should not be doing this, and my remaining conscience served as a barrier to my climax. But I remained right on the edge.
Our breathing began to synchronize and became faster, deeper and more labored. I could tell Robert was approaching orgasm. I wanted to witness it. I wanted to experience my stepson’s climax.
Suddenly, his loins stiffened, his pace quickened and he began to convulse as he ejaculated long thick strings of semen. The thick, white ropes of sperm shot up five or six inches from the head of his cock and landed on his abdomen and lower chest.
I was in awe the way the white ropes just suddenly appeared in the air before landing on Robert. I realized that I had never actually witnessed a man ejaculating like this before. I was so aroused.
I was amazed at the strength, volume and distance of his ejaculate. At least four very large spurts erupted from his pulsing cock. Semen covered his belly and chest with a gooey mess. The fragrance of the semen filled my nostrils. I had never been so stimulated in my life, yet I could not reach and orgasm.
As Robert lay back panting and sated, I got up and said, “Don’t move, I will clean this up.”
I went to the bathroom to get a wash rag. I soaked it in warm water and returned. His penis had started to grow soft; but Robert's penis remained thick and heavy, and firm.
Sitting down on the couch next to him, I scooped a small dollop of semen from his chest with my left index finger while simultaneously I beginning to wipe the semen from his abdomen with the warm, wet wash cloth in my right hand.
I brought semen on my left index finger to my nostrils and inhaled the wonderful fragrance of my stepson's sperm.
"Robert, your sperm smells very nice, I like the way you smell."
Robert's penis arched up noticeably and began to grow as I inhaled his scent. Robert obviously liked watching me smell his semen. It was very sexy, indeed.
Then Robert lay back, closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the wash cloth. Then I made yet another mistake. I took his semi-flaccid penis in one hand and wiped it with the warm wash cloth. Already quite large, heavy and stiff, his cock immediately began to grow and pulse under my touch.
Instinctively, not really thinking about the morality or ramifications of my actions, I continued to gently massage his penis with the wash cloth as it grew hard. The experience was surreal, and almost dream-like. I really did not feel that I was on control of my actions, but rather a player in a scripted play.
I saw a passion in Robert's eyes which I had not seen in any man's eyes in decades.
“Is this okay?” I asked as I stroked him back to erection.
“Oh, yes,” he moaned appreciatively, arching his hips slightly with each gentle stroke.
I knew I was crossing yet another barrier that should not be crossed, but the sight and scents of the scene had me intoxicated with lust. I was wet, aroused and not thinking clearly at all.
Robert leaned forward and ran his hand up my inner thigh. I froze. I did not intend to have him touch me or for this to go any further. I had not intended for this to go as far as it already had. I tensed up momentarily, keeping me thighs pressed together, denying my step son access to my gushing pussy.
Robert merely said, “Relax. I just want to touch you for a moment. I just want to feel your excitement.” He gently separated my legs and his fingers gently explored the gusset of my very damp, almost soaked panties. After several tense seconds of pressing my thighs tightly together, I slowly relented and parted my legs a few inches.
As I relented, I reasoned, 'How can I deny Robert touching me while I am touching him?' I knew I should not have been allowing any of this, but we were past the point of making the right decision now; and I clearly did not have the will, strength or desire to release his beautiful hard-on and leave this moment.
Robert’s touch on my clitoris, separated from his fingers by only a think piece of fabric, was electric; a slight moan escaped me, revealing how much I enjoyed and needed his touch. It had been over five months since I had been with a man.
The last man with whom I had achieved an orgasm, in fact the only man with whom I had ever achieved an orgasm, was Robert’s father. And that was before the divorce, three years ago. I wanted to be touched.
Robert quickly found my erect clit and massaged it through the thin cotton material in a gentle but arousing manner that had me rocking my hips and moaning as I pumped his penis in my fist.
Robert pulled aside the leg of my panties so he could access the opening of my vagina freely. I opened my legs wider and slid a bit closer, giving him better access. I was so wet, so aroused, and so open, that Robert had no trouble locating my opening. He inserted first one, then two fingers deep inside me.
And as his fingers entered me, Robert got up from the seat next to me, and moved to a kneeling position in front of me. I released his penis as he did so, and watched as his erection arched straight up on its own. Kneeling in front of me, the crotch of my panties was pulled asideTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
I awoke and went to work, but I spent most of the following day deeply distracted about the relatively innocent interaction with Robert the night before. I was anxious on several fronts. The embarrassment of the incident notwithstanding, I also had to admit that the image of his very large, very erect penis was etched indelibly in my mind’s eye. The memory was arousing me despite my best intentions. I could not rid my mind's eye of the image of Robert's erection, no matter how hard I tried, nor could I control my physical reaction to this image.
My vagina leaked continuously, keeping the gusset of my panties damp the entire day. By the time I was leaving to return home, I felt like I had wet myself. I was confused by my constant arousal, and I was ashamed by the fact that my mind kept revisiting the very vivid image of Robert's large, thick erection. I could not stop thinking about my stepson's very hard dick.
Finally, five o'clock arrived and I went home.
That night, over dinner, Robert broached the subject once again. I was going to have to address what happened.
“Mom, I think we should talk about last night.”
“Okay, you start”
I was buying time until I could get my thoughts together.
“Do you know what I was doing when you came down the steps?”
Okay, let’s take a clinical approach to this situation, I thought. “I assume you were masturbating.”
“Yes, I was. Are your okay with me doing that in your house?”
“Of course I am. That is a normal, healthy activity for a young man your age. There is nothing wrong with that, nothing to be ashamed of,” I reassured.
“Do you do it?” he asked.
Oh my, I thought; this has taken a nasty turn. Surely he could see me last night. I took a deep breath before responding, “Yes, I have been known to masturbate on occasion.”
“How often do you masturbate, mom?”
“Robert, I am not comfortable discussing this with you.”
“Mom, you are trying to tell me that masturbation is normal, healthy and there is nothing wrong with it. Yet you don’t want to talk to me about a normal, healthy activity that you admit you do. Which is it?”
I did not want to discuss this with my stepson, but I realized he was right; we should be able to discuss this normal aspect of human sexuality like two adults.
“Okay, you are right. It is a little embarrassing, but there is nothing wrong with it, and it is normal.”
I took a long sip of my glass of merlot, trying to garner some liquid courage that would allow me to continue this embarrassing conversation.
“Yes, I masturbate, or try to, several times a week.”
“Try to?” Robert questioned.
“Yes, I try to. Here is a little known fact about your mother. It is often difficult for me to reach a climax. So I often try, but most of the time, I do not fully succeed.”
“Why do you have trouble cumming?”
“Whoa, you're not even going to use the clinically correct terms, are you? You are going directly for the street slang? Okay, we’ll use terms you are comfortable with. I guess I have trouble because I am easily distracted and struggle with the feeling that, on some level, sex is wrong. But I know that is silly way to feel. I realize that sex, and in particular masturbation, is normal and healthy. Nonetheless, these irrational feelings I have do interfere sometimes.”
After a bit more back and forth, I cleared the table and went up stairs to change. I returned wearing the t-shirt that I normally wear to bed. The shirt came down to my upper thighs, so my pale green cotton panties were modestly hidden underneath.
Robert had selected the movie 'Mandingo' from a cable station. He was on the couch wearing only a pair of loosely fitting gym shorts. Lying there bare chested, I could see he had a wonderful physique. His arms and chest were muscular and well defined. His abdomen was flat and tight. He reminded me of his father when Jim was that age. The fact that his father was the only man with whom I had had an orgasm brought back memories of wonderful sex. I missed that aspect of being married. I missed having a man in my bed regularly.
Mandingo was a sexy, R rated film about the old south and slavery, and contained considerable interracial sex scenes between the wife of a slave owner and her favorite slave. It was a steamy film.
As the scenes became more and more explicit, I could see Robert’s penis begin to grow and stiffen under the thin material of his gym shorts. Between the images on the screen and the very vivid memories of Roberts’s erection from the previous night, coupled with the growing tent in his gym shorts in front of me, I was becoming increasingly aware of my own clitoris and the growing wetness of my vagina. I also knew that my nipples had grown completely erect and were clearly visible through my t-shirt.
I was aroused and knew that, upon going to bed after watching this film, I would masturbate tonight; and I knew I could make myself cum tonight. I needed a release.
Suddenly, right there in front of me, Robert reached down and slowly massaged himself through his gym shorts. I was curious, aroused, and I tried not to act shocked. He was now obviously fully erect. After stroking himself on the outside of his gym shorts for a minute or two, he turned his head, looked directly at me as he continued to stroke himself, and said coyly, “I will if you will.”
I blushed and feigned not understanding what he was saying. In fact, I was not entirely sure I did understand what he was saying.
“You know, mom, it’s normal, healthy and there is nothing wrong with it. Join me.”
He stared shamelessly at my erect nipples before lowering his gaze to my barely covered crotch. He raised his eyes as if to say, 'Well, how about it?'
There was no longer any doubt about it, he was inviting me to masturbate with him!
“Oh, I couldn’t do that with you. It would be wrong. And it would be embarrassing.”
“You yourself told me it is normal and healthy. Come on.”
Staring directly at me, with a sly smile, he placed his hand inside his gym shorts to stroke himself skin-to-skin.
I know now, as I knew then, that I should have politely gotten up and excused myself at that moment. I should have gone to my bedroom, eliminated the temptation and masturbated in private. But I didn't.
I would like to claim I do not know why I did not get up at that moment; but the truth is I was very, very aroused by this whole perverse situation. Despite all logic and reason to the contrary, I slowly reached down as Robert watched, spread my thighs ever so slightly, fingers between my legs, and touched myself through my panties.
The gusset of my panties was very wet now, and my clitoris was very sensitive and erect.
I watched intently as Robert arched his hips, raising his buttocks off the couch, and pulled his gym shorts down to mid-thigh, placing his erect penis in plain view. It was the largest penis I had seen, thickly veined, with a well defined head and a slight purple tint. I was estimating it was seven to eight inches, and was thick. It was thicker than the vibrator that I had in my night stand, which was the largest item to work its way into my pussy up to that point and time. The large veins encasing the thick rigid shaft gave Robert's erection a dangerous, sinister appearance. His cock looked like it could split a tiny woman like me in two. It was the largest erection I had encountered in my thirty nine years.
I continued to massage my clitoris with tiny circles was I watched Robert stroke himself with increasing speed. I was on the verge of climax, but something was stopping me from crossing the line to orgasm. I could not make myself climax while Robert watched. I think I knew I should not be doing this, and my remaining conscience served as a barrier to my climax. But I remained right on the edge.
Our breathing began to synchronize and became faster, deeper and more labored. I could tell Robert was approaching orgasm. I wanted to witness it. I wanted to experience my stepson’s climax.
Suddenly, his loins stiffened, his pace quickened and he began to convulse as he ejaculated long thick strings of semen. The thick, white ropes of sperm shot up five or six inches from the head of his cock and landed on his abdomen and lower chest.
I was in awe the way the white ropes just suddenly appeared in the air before landing on Robert. I realized that I had never actually witnessed a man ejaculating like this before. I was so aroused.
I was amazed at the strength, volume and distance of his ejaculate. At least four very large spurts erupted from his pulsing cock. Semen covered his belly and chest with a gooey mess. The fragrance of the semen filled my nostrils. I had never been so stimulated in my life, yet I could not reach and orgasm.
As Robert lay back panting and sated, I got up and said, “Don’t move, I will clean this up.”
I went to the bathroom to get a wash rag. I soaked it in warm water and returned. His penis had started to grow soft; but Robert's penis remained thick and heavy, and firm.
Sitting down on the couch next to him, I scooped a small dollop of semen from his chest with my left index finger while simultaneously I beginning to wipe the semen from his abdomen with the warm, wet wash cloth in my right hand.
I brought semen on my left index finger to my nostrils and inhaled the wonderful fragrance of my stepson's sperm.
"Robert, your sperm smells very nice, I like the way you smell."
Robert's penis arched up noticeably and began to grow as I inhaled his scent. Robert obviously liked watching me smell his semen. It was very sexy, indeed.
Then Robert lay back, closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the wash cloth. Then I made yet another mistake. I took his semi-flaccid penis in one hand and wiped it with the warm wash cloth. Already quite large, heavy and stiff, his cock immediately began to grow and pulse under my touch.
Instinctively, not really thinking about the morality or ramifications of my actions, I continued to gently massage his penis with the wash cloth as it grew hard. The experience was surreal, and almost dream-like. I really did not feel that I was on control of my actions, but rather a player in a scripted play.
I saw a passion in Robert's eyes which I had not seen in any man's eyes in decades.
“Is this okay?” I asked as I stroked him back to erection.
“Oh, yes,” he moaned appreciatively, arching his hips slightly with each gentle stroke.
I knew I was crossing yet another barrier that should not be crossed, but the sight and scents of the scene had me intoxicated with lust. I was wet, aroused and not thinking clearly at all.
Robert leaned forward and ran his hand up my inner thigh. I froze. I did not intend to have him touch me or for this to go any further. I had not intended for this to go as far as it already had. I tensed up momentarily, keeping me thighs pressed together, denying my step son access to my gushing pussy.
Robert merely said, “Relax. I just want to touch you for a moment. I just want to feel your excitement.” He gently separated my legs and his fingers gently explored the gusset of my very damp, almost soaked panties. After several tense seconds of pressing my thighs tightly together, I slowly relented and parted my legs a few inches.
As I relented, I reasoned, 'How can I deny Robert touching me while I am touching him?' I knew I should not have been allowing any of this, but we were past the point of making the right decision now; and I clearly did not have the will, strength or desire to release his beautiful hard-on and leave this moment.
Robert’s touch on my clitoris, separated from his fingers by only a think piece of fabric, was electric; a slight moan escaped me, revealing how much I enjoyed and needed his touch. It had been over five months since I had been with a man.
The last man with whom I had achieved an orgasm, in fact the only man with whom I had ever achieved an orgasm, was Robert’s father. And that was before the divorce, three years ago. I wanted to be touched.
Robert quickly found my erect clit and massaged it through the thin cotton material in a gentle but arousing manner that had me rocking my hips and moaning as I pumped his penis in my fist.
Robert pulled aside the leg of my panties so he could access the opening of my vagina freely. I opened my legs wider and slid a bit closer, giving him better access. I was so wet, so aroused, and so open, that Robert had no trouble locating my opening. He inserted first one, then two fingers deep inside me.
And as his fingers entered me, Robert got up from the seat next to me, and moved to a kneeling position in front of me. I released his penis as he did so, and watched as his erection arched straight up on its own. Kneeling in front of me, the crotch of my panties was pulled asideTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
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