The Formula
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Aunt Michelle's Secret Formula free porn video
DISCLAIMER: All characters in this story are fictional and over the age of 18.
SUBJECT: A young masturbation addict is sent to a dominating older female who has a special interest in his secretion. (tags: milf, masturbation, soft femdom, handjob, big tits, older female vs younger male, dirty talk, cum denial, prostate stimulation, milking)
Aunt Michelle’s Secret Formula - Chapter I
I got out of my car along with my mother. We were no longer talking about “the incident”, and I was so ashamed that I couldn’t raise my eyes from the ground. I was a teen age boy then and I was a scruffy looking toothpick of a lad. Immediately after " the incident," my mother told me:
- No wonder, you are so scrawny. You barely eat, instead you just hang around the house all day doing THAT thing!
The truth was I really did it this time. I've discovered masturbation from some classmates just two years before, and now my whole life was spinning around it. If I was alone at home, I was most likely with my pants around my ankles and furiously working the engorged cocklet with my fist. I must have gushed and sprayed on every surface. The sheets and desk chair all bore markings and crusty “streaks”, almost jet-like, as I churned hot sperm 7-8 times a day. I just could not stop.
A few days ago I was battling my own record. My mother went to bed early that night so I went to my room and started (as usual) to play with my weaner thinking about a girl in my class or the fast wanks we’d hit in the locker room. Class colleagues were doing it quickly. We often rubbed one out in the dressing room during the 3-4 minute break, each of the boys would strangle his red headed prick and make it spit on the cold tiles before going about their business.
But Teo told me – he’s a better built colleague with an adult size member and perhaps even more perverse than I am: "Oh, mate, you're an idiot if you just give it a fast wank. You gotta milk it for hours. Milk it for all it’s worth. Here, just look at how I do it" he told me, shaking his dick from the base to give the flesh monster a more voluminous size. "Look how much bigger it gets from a healthy milking session!"
Indeed, his dick was an a****l in itself. A single-eyed snake that occasionally winked at the muzzle, spitting out some tearful sprouts while the foreskin rolled up and down like a collar over the shiny head.
So that night I followed his advice. When I felt I was gonna ejaculate for the first few times, I just stopped and left my pecker calm down. I've done it a few times and I've seen it really was a lot better. I wanted to see how much longer I can keep going. I got out of bed and walked around the house with a raging hard on, bouncing my member left and right as a mature male dick, and pulled out the used magazines that Teo had lent me. "These are the best," he told me with a coy smile, while rearranging his dick better in his pants again. When I first came home with them I realized why. The papers were swollen with moisture and almost glued together. He had not missed any picture no matter how ugly the woman was, or how dirty the scene. In fact, the harsher the scene, the more semen was spilled. It looked like he had unloaded a tankful of jock-cum on the image of some skinny teen girl bouncing like mad on some Congolese mechanic’s beer-can-sized fuck stick. Girls were impaled, older women were lewdly sucking boys’ asses, lascivious breasts were sprayed with glistering cum, erect phalluses were stretching mouths, pussies and little pink a-holes.
I sat down nicely on the edge of the bed and spread my wanking material next to me. I have pulled my pajamas pants under my balls, because I discovered that there was a little love button there that I liked to press. And I spread my legs to allow myself more access to my aroused dick and balls. What followed was pure madness. One hour? Two? Who knoes. I pistoned my dick with my eyes peeled to those porn magazines, stopping only to turn the page from time to time. I could feel Teo’s spirit as page after page the crusty batter marked where my hunky colleague couldn’t hold it anymore and spilled his meat gun.
When I felt the cum climbing out of my blossoming manhood and “make the fountain” as my cousins used to say, I would take it a little slower and just let my whole body tremble as my nipples became harder than pebbles.
The last hour was horror. I completely lost control and if anybody would have walked inside they would have assumed I was in some deep possessed trance. I was throwing my head back and forth, squirming and moaning like a stuck pig or yelping like a puppy. The pleasure was out of this world. I was completely lost in a cocktail of sensations while one hand was pounding up and down my crotch, and another held my tightening testes as if they were about to fall off because of the pleasure overload. I was sweating underneath, and was basically laying in a puddle of my own secretions, as my hand was noisily working the pulsating meat shaft that was now leaking what seemed like honey dew and would continue to leak. I was in my world. I was in ecstasy.
I did not realize it at first, but a few moments later I saw my mom staring in the door and staring at me, stupefied. And of course! Her boy was spread-eagled and bare-legged on the bedside, dirty magazines everywhere, and completely lost in the ecstasy that the up and down motion around his swollen, sore meat was generating. I froze for a few seconds looking directly in my mother eyes. She caught me right on the cusp. Normally I should have stopped, I should have found some silly explanation (like I was just scratching an itch, which in a way, I was) but because of my surprised state (and because my brain was basically mush by this time) I forgot to do it and instead… hit three final FATAL strokes to my inflamed member.
- Good LORD! my mother screamed and started making the sign of the cross across her chest and shoulders. At that moment I chirped like an injured a****l and involuntarily released a shitload of accumulated sperm that started to gush uncontrollably from my erect turret. I tried to stop what I was doing and pull something over me, but the body did not listen to me anymore. With my eyes still locked into my mother's, I kept shaking spasmodically, looking like someone glued my ass to the bed while my legs danced around in the air and the white spunk artesian made its number. After the 5-6 strong jets that jumped at the beginning, it was now just dripping like a frozen ice cream on a cone, which was still pulsating under the action of prolonged ecstasy.
I think my face has changed as though I begged forgiveness from my mother for the uncontrollable orgasm that now hovers through my leg muscles. What followed was a monster scandal. “How long have I been doing this?” “That's why I do not study for school. That's not normal. I'm going to go crazy, I'm going to go blind, I'm going to be impotent”. She then added that “she loves me, I'm her baby but we need to find a solution for me before I destroy myself”. My mother was ready to do everything in her power to save her little masturbating boy from perdition.
- I'm taking you to Michelle. It's the only solution.
- No ... not at Michelle’s ... I mumbled, but in the same time I felt my dick twitching slightly in my pants when hearing my older aunt’s name.
- I'm taking you to Michelle and that’s that. She has cured other boys like you. Tomorrow we shall go there.
That night I did not close an eye. I haven’t seen my aunt since I was ten, maybe eleven. And I remembered it very well. A woman as beautiful as she was authoritarian. She was a cross between a barbie doll with big pounding lips, blue eyes - which she highlighted with a set of false eyelashes - and an Amazon she-warrior, because she was tall and she always wore heels or tall boots. But what always smacked you about Michelle, were her breasts. Those ample, flesh filled jugs that have always completed her hourglass figure. My mother always took along when she’d buy clothes and everytime we would stop in the lingerie store where she would point out some huge cups (big enough to put your head in and fall asleep forever) and say, "Look. The H Cup. Like your aunt Michelle." I do not know what the H cup means, but they were huge. I always wondered how she could stand up straight without the sheer weight of her ample bosom pulling her down. And if she happened to wear a shirt when returning from the office, every button seemed moments away from popping out, drawing holes between them, through which one could see the breast meat hidden inside and the lace bra holding the bouncers at bay. They were fabulous. They were great. And maybe the only reason I've never dared to masturbate myself by imagining how my dick would disappear between the two giant breasts was because I feared her like hell.
And now my mother was sending me to see her.
-TO BE CONTINUED- ( o Y o )
SUBJECT: A young masturbation addict is sent to a dominating older female who has a special interest in his secretion. (tags: milf, masturbation, soft femdom, handjob, big tits, older female vs younger male, dirty talk, cum denial, prostate stimulation, milking)
Aunt Michelle’s Secret Formula - Chapter I
I got out of my car along with my mother. We were no longer talking about “the incident”, and I was so ashamed that I couldn’t raise my eyes from the ground. I was a teen age boy then and I was a scruffy looking toothpick of a lad. Immediately after " the incident," my mother told me:
- No wonder, you are so scrawny. You barely eat, instead you just hang around the house all day doing THAT thing!
The truth was I really did it this time. I've discovered masturbation from some classmates just two years before, and now my whole life was spinning around it. If I was alone at home, I was most likely with my pants around my ankles and furiously working the engorged cocklet with my fist. I must have gushed and sprayed on every surface. The sheets and desk chair all bore markings and crusty “streaks”, almost jet-like, as I churned hot sperm 7-8 times a day. I just could not stop.
A few days ago I was battling my own record. My mother went to bed early that night so I went to my room and started (as usual) to play with my weaner thinking about a girl in my class or the fast wanks we’d hit in the locker room. Class colleagues were doing it quickly. We often rubbed one out in the dressing room during the 3-4 minute break, each of the boys would strangle his red headed prick and make it spit on the cold tiles before going about their business.
But Teo told me – he’s a better built colleague with an adult size member and perhaps even more perverse than I am: "Oh, mate, you're an idiot if you just give it a fast wank. You gotta milk it for hours. Milk it for all it’s worth. Here, just look at how I do it" he told me, shaking his dick from the base to give the flesh monster a more voluminous size. "Look how much bigger it gets from a healthy milking session!"
Indeed, his dick was an a****l in itself. A single-eyed snake that occasionally winked at the muzzle, spitting out some tearful sprouts while the foreskin rolled up and down like a collar over the shiny head.
So that night I followed his advice. When I felt I was gonna ejaculate for the first few times, I just stopped and left my pecker calm down. I've done it a few times and I've seen it really was a lot better. I wanted to see how much longer I can keep going. I got out of bed and walked around the house with a raging hard on, bouncing my member left and right as a mature male dick, and pulled out the used magazines that Teo had lent me. "These are the best," he told me with a coy smile, while rearranging his dick better in his pants again. When I first came home with them I realized why. The papers were swollen with moisture and almost glued together. He had not missed any picture no matter how ugly the woman was, or how dirty the scene. In fact, the harsher the scene, the more semen was spilled. It looked like he had unloaded a tankful of jock-cum on the image of some skinny teen girl bouncing like mad on some Congolese mechanic’s beer-can-sized fuck stick. Girls were impaled, older women were lewdly sucking boys’ asses, lascivious breasts were sprayed with glistering cum, erect phalluses were stretching mouths, pussies and little pink a-holes.
I sat down nicely on the edge of the bed and spread my wanking material next to me. I have pulled my pajamas pants under my balls, because I discovered that there was a little love button there that I liked to press. And I spread my legs to allow myself more access to my aroused dick and balls. What followed was pure madness. One hour? Two? Who knoes. I pistoned my dick with my eyes peeled to those porn magazines, stopping only to turn the page from time to time. I could feel Teo’s spirit as page after page the crusty batter marked where my hunky colleague couldn’t hold it anymore and spilled his meat gun.
When I felt the cum climbing out of my blossoming manhood and “make the fountain” as my cousins used to say, I would take it a little slower and just let my whole body tremble as my nipples became harder than pebbles.
The last hour was horror. I completely lost control and if anybody would have walked inside they would have assumed I was in some deep possessed trance. I was throwing my head back and forth, squirming and moaning like a stuck pig or yelping like a puppy. The pleasure was out of this world. I was completely lost in a cocktail of sensations while one hand was pounding up and down my crotch, and another held my tightening testes as if they were about to fall off because of the pleasure overload. I was sweating underneath, and was basically laying in a puddle of my own secretions, as my hand was noisily working the pulsating meat shaft that was now leaking what seemed like honey dew and would continue to leak. I was in my world. I was in ecstasy.
I did not realize it at first, but a few moments later I saw my mom staring in the door and staring at me, stupefied. And of course! Her boy was spread-eagled and bare-legged on the bedside, dirty magazines everywhere, and completely lost in the ecstasy that the up and down motion around his swollen, sore meat was generating. I froze for a few seconds looking directly in my mother eyes. She caught me right on the cusp. Normally I should have stopped, I should have found some silly explanation (like I was just scratching an itch, which in a way, I was) but because of my surprised state (and because my brain was basically mush by this time) I forgot to do it and instead… hit three final FATAL strokes to my inflamed member.
- Good LORD! my mother screamed and started making the sign of the cross across her chest and shoulders. At that moment I chirped like an injured a****l and involuntarily released a shitload of accumulated sperm that started to gush uncontrollably from my erect turret. I tried to stop what I was doing and pull something over me, but the body did not listen to me anymore. With my eyes still locked into my mother's, I kept shaking spasmodically, looking like someone glued my ass to the bed while my legs danced around in the air and the white spunk artesian made its number. After the 5-6 strong jets that jumped at the beginning, it was now just dripping like a frozen ice cream on a cone, which was still pulsating under the action of prolonged ecstasy.
I think my face has changed as though I begged forgiveness from my mother for the uncontrollable orgasm that now hovers through my leg muscles. What followed was a monster scandal. “How long have I been doing this?” “That's why I do not study for school. That's not normal. I'm going to go crazy, I'm going to go blind, I'm going to be impotent”. She then added that “she loves me, I'm her baby but we need to find a solution for me before I destroy myself”. My mother was ready to do everything in her power to save her little masturbating boy from perdition.
- I'm taking you to Michelle. It's the only solution.
- No ... not at Michelle’s ... I mumbled, but in the same time I felt my dick twitching slightly in my pants when hearing my older aunt’s name.
- I'm taking you to Michelle and that’s that. She has cured other boys like you. Tomorrow we shall go there.
That night I did not close an eye. I haven’t seen my aunt since I was ten, maybe eleven. And I remembered it very well. A woman as beautiful as she was authoritarian. She was a cross between a barbie doll with big pounding lips, blue eyes - which she highlighted with a set of false eyelashes - and an Amazon she-warrior, because she was tall and she always wore heels or tall boots. But what always smacked you about Michelle, were her breasts. Those ample, flesh filled jugs that have always completed her hourglass figure. My mother always took along when she’d buy clothes and everytime we would stop in the lingerie store where she would point out some huge cups (big enough to put your head in and fall asleep forever) and say, "Look. The H Cup. Like your aunt Michelle." I do not know what the H cup means, but they were huge. I always wondered how she could stand up straight without the sheer weight of her ample bosom pulling her down. And if she happened to wear a shirt when returning from the office, every button seemed moments away from popping out, drawing holes between them, through which one could see the breast meat hidden inside and the lace bra holding the bouncers at bay. They were fabulous. They were great. And maybe the only reason I've never dared to masturbate myself by imagining how my dick would disappear between the two giant breasts was because I feared her like hell.
And now my mother was sending me to see her.
-TO BE CONTINUED- ( o Y o )
Nova
- 17.05.2020
- 15
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