97, BOYHOOD TO MANHOOD IN A WEEKENDre Issue free porn video

97, BOYHOOD TO MANHOOD IN A WEEKEND
You have no idea what a birthday may bring, this is a story of a boy`s change of life, helped by a very understanding mother stick with it, it`s a slow starter
Ok, well my name is Peter, and this is about when I was a hormone riddled youth, I don’t usually do u******e stuff, but although the real story starts at 17/18, to explain myself fully I need to go back a year or three to my 12th year, when I was a gangling shy k** just to set the scene. I lived in Folkestone in Kent [UK] at that time, and we are talking 1960, when the town had a busy beach, an Olympic size outdoor swimming pool, and an old indoor pool called the marina, which had seen better days. I was a keen swimmer, but as I said I was a painfully shy lad, gangling and nervy of girls, who I had not mixed with much in my life and my all boy`s school not being conducive to mixing with them at all.
Being a keen swimmer, my mother had suggested I joined the local club, it meant I could swim all winter with the club using the old indoor pool, and no-doubt she also secretly felt would broaden my outlook and help me mix with girls a bit more.
I had swum since I was eight and I had taken to the water like an eel, by 10 I would swim back alone from my friend`s fathers fishing boat the ½ mile or so from the boat at the pier head to the inner harbour as the thing left each evening! [Health and safety eat your heart out!]
So good was I that at 12 I was asked if I would sign up for the club junior lifesaving course. The age group ranged from 12 to 16 after that the club deemed you to be an adult!
To do the course, we were split into pairs, now that was fine, but I stood 6ft at my 12th birthday and being so tall it was difficult to pair me with a partner of even near my size for the dry land drills, practising the holds etc it was hopeless. Most of the group ranged from waist high to perhaps my shoulder, there was always an odd number too I remember, so I being the “odd man” I found myself paired for simplicity with the daughter of the instructor, she was a shy willowy blond of about 20 named Avril who was training to be an instructor and she was the only loose body available to make up the numbers.
She was a shapely girl with a sizeable bust, was Avril and I suspect she hated the whole process of working with a boy as much as I, especially with a gangling dozy youth like me as I was wary of working with her, especially for physical contact drills and having done this course she must have realised the implications of the fourth drill instantly, as once the casualty was reached, to save the panicking casualty struggling the rescuers hands would be on the casualties chest regardless of sex or any other implications and the raised elbows holding the casualties arms up and securely out of the way.
As I said I was a shy lad and the first time we did the dry drill she demonstrated on me, her hands duly arrived on my scrawny chest with her stood behind me up went the shoulders and elbows and I was pinned securely against her ample bust....simples.
Well that was easy enough....but we then had to change places.... Well it was the tits you see, the ladies in my mates ‘parade’ magazine had tits, my mum even had tits, but I had never so much as even touched them by accident never mind seen a pair by chance or even one in real life! Here was I about to place my hands on this wonderful if reluctant shapely older girl and being told to do it....shit that was scary stuff for this young lad belive me.
Nowadays a lad would jump at the chance, but this was the 1960s and the proprieties were always strictly observed in every respect.
Sheer terror gripped me, her dad was the instructor and he was watching, so I chickened out by sparing her blushes and mine by placing my hands either side of her upper body and below the offending parts.
At that Avril`s Dad, who happened to be the course leader and the instructor marched up and demonstrated to the rest of the class how easy it was to escape my grip, by waggling and waving her arms about and saying it was dangerous. He went on this was no place to be bashful, her life and yours could and would be in danger, basically I was to get a grip.
Revelling in every moment of his daughters acute embarrassment, he took my hands and placed them firmly flat on her fantastic breasts, the nipples, by now erect came directly under my by now sweaty palms and they surprised me never having realised they became erect. Avril was as red as her suit, I was equally glowing I was sure my short and underdeveloped prick was stretching my swim shorts stiffly and showing, which was why I was mortified.
That particular drill being over, on command we all stepped back like soldiers and the instructor carried on with the next drill, my tent being a source of embarrassment to say the least as I did what I could to hide it.
Fortunately for me I was behind Avril and the lady either didn’t notice or perhaps she was more diplomatic than to mention it being already embarrassed by her father`s insistence of my placing my hands on her bust.
Surprisingly each week, she re-appeared and worked with me, it wasn’t that she needed the course as she already had the certificate and it was not to be mauled about by me surely, she looking like she could have had her pick of the men in the club, perhaps it was just to defy her dad, I have no idea but the scenario was soon commonplace each week, both in practise and in the pool week after week, as I touch her breasts each time her nipples stiffened instantly as did my undersize dick. Avril never spoke of it once, either she was tactful or too shy herself and she scuttled away to my relief after every session with just a hasty “goodbye see you next week” looking a little flustered.
With hindsight she may have been turned on, but being me and so sexually backward I just enjoyed the game and always looked forward to that particular drill. I admit it did fuel a number of jerking sessions and of course I had a crush on Avril a mile wide....
Seven of us passed that course and the following higher one though it took a few months then we all moved on to other things, sadly I never saw her again, as she joined the navy, but if she ever reads this ...a big thank you Avril you made my young life colourful and memorable!
My prowess at life saving made me a few bob in the summer providing cover with clubs cubs, scouts, church groups or any bunch of organised swimmers, perhaps I was cheap and available rather than good. Strangely I was never asked to work with the guides... I though, was the talk of my school class peers, all the lads in my group wanting to know what a breast was like to touch and there were numerous volunteers for life saving courses though most didn’t stick it being quickly paired with juvenile partner`s, Avril had been one of the few advantage of my great height!
My own mum was at that time a shapely, 36year old; though until Avril, I of course had not noticed! She had a good shape if a bit matronly and though not massively breasted, she had enough to set my mates hearts a flutter! She was then, 5ft 8” tall and about 9½ stone.
On one occasion quite early in the course she asked me to show her how to help someone in difficulty in the water with her not being a strong swimmer, I went through some of the simpler dry moves, I chickened out at the 4th method however to her apparent surprise and I now think disappointment.
As I said I was shy!
Life burbled on, school, the Saturday job, paper round, all filled my time, as well as swimming club most evenings and odd jobs plus as I said odd bits of lifesaving and though I say it myself I was filling out and becoming quite tidy and fit for my age though the shyness killed any advantage that should have brought.
Like all lads of that age our hormones rampaged, and as the computer age had not dawned, the only options in those days were magazines like Parade, Mayfair, Fiesta, and Health and Beauty that we boys wanked over. we tried spying on one another`s mothers, sniffed panties from the laundry basket and even pulled tricks like drilling holes in the changing room walls, a brave attempt that failed drastically due to double skinned walls!
The female species though still had me foxed, though my shy ways still meant that other than Avril my now departed, blond casualty, my sex life was sparse and self inflicted to say the least, not for want of trying on my part but from want of self confidence.
My own and my mates attempts at views especially up-skirt at my own mum`s body or my aunts, or visitors or whoever must have been noticed by my targets, because I soon began to notice the laundry basket would be empty more frequently, and more care tended to be taken by the ladies in changing, or showering, a tissues box appeared in my room and it was all very frustrating.
Me not being a dancer, (I never have and never will I am afraid, lacking both rhythm and incentive) it meant that disco and that type of avenue was not for me, so my meeting girls was, well, chancy to say the least and when it happened it mostly was doomed to tongue tied failure!
My dad was not the boy for ‘the chat’ he being less than communicative by nature and since the war he had had a speech impediment anyway, He worked as a seaman on the train ferries from Dover, so it was left to my mother to ensure I was educated about sex and as my next birthday approached, she must have decided to combine the two occasions.
In the weeks before the date of my birthday I noticed a strange change in the atmosphere, odd little questions, well, not questions as such, more sly comments to drag information from me. Stuff like had I had a girlfriend, had I read much on the subject of sex, what had I learnt at school, stuff like that, all innocently slipped in with the usual day to day crap.
I perhaps had hoped to turn the tables and in what appeared an un-guarded moment did let slip that I did not understand why women didn’t stand up to pee and on another occasion that though c***dbirth was covered at school, I had no real idea about lady-bits, but mum didn’t bite and neither comment brought forward any explanations as I had hoped.
My dad working on the ferries as a crew member worked 2 full trips on and 2 off at that time and sadly he was on a mid-afternoon sailing on Saturday on the old “Twickenham ferry” an ancient train ferry and as my birthday was Sunday luck had it he was to be away till Monday afternoon. I had just left school and had joined the services and was awaiting my draft papers, so after my very last paper round on that Saturday morning as soon as I got in I found he had waited for me before leaving. He presented me with a fantastic camera, second hand true, we were not rich and it probably came via one of his customs friends who had confis**ted it, that`s how I had a good Swiss divers watch on my wrist since last birthday and as the camera was a good one, I suspected this was the case here! With my dad you didn’t ask where he got it, Anyway he mumbled, he was “proud of me for joining up,” then told me to “listen carefully to my mum,” which I thought a bit odd, that he would see me on Monday afternoon, before he went off out to the station, bag in hand for Dover and his ship. Mum had gone shopping, so I was left to fit the first roll of film and try and work out my new camera.
Not a lot happened till after tea, when mum sat at our table with a writing pad, as I thought catching up on her correspondence.
She said that from tomorrow, my birthday and the world would think of me as a man; she was proud I was joining up and that it was time to put away c***dish things now as I would need to be that man. She said she knew I was curious about women and was she was determined that tomorrow she was going to rid me of that shyness once and for all.
There was however three proviso`s; the first that whatever I was told, shown or learnt, I was to tell not a living soul about its source ever. Secondly, I must agree to use the knowledge wisely throughout my lifetime and third that I must do exactly as I was asked tomorrow.
Naturally I quickly agreed, I trusted her totally and here she was going to equip me for a new life away from home which I knew would be both hard and an adventure and anyway.
I had been in love with her since I had been able to understand women were different so I wasn’t going to argue!
“tomorrow after breakfast you will get my secret present, something I have noticed you have wanted to get your hands on since you went on that lifesaving course but you must remember those promises” she then bade me goodnight and then began pottering about in her kitchen for a while leaving me somewhat bemused, to find my way to my bed.
My god’ I thought, how the hell was I expected to sleep with a vaigue promise like that. I spent a restless night belive me, and I was up and having lit the living room fire by 8am drinking tea while watching the sky lighten on this grey November day. Wind buffeted the rain, slashing it against the windows and I was glad that I was not with dad out on the rough channel that I knew would be buffeting that flat old train ferry.
No pictures today with the camera, I thought. Sipping my tea and eagerly waiting my mum`s arrival. After a time I realised she was not leaping out of her bed, so I decided to get some cornflakes to stave off the pangs. In the kitchen I found leant against the cereal box an envelope marked ‘Peter’ and a parcel.
Bowl in hand I returned to my chair by the fire to chomp on my soggies, and open what I took to be my birthday card and present.
It contained 6 rolls of film with a tag saying this is for the look of the thing if your aunts etc ask what you got.... lovely idea, and now intrigued I opened the card wishing me the best in my chosen service career, also there was an envelope in my mother`s neat handwriting again marked ‘Peter very personal.’
The bowl forgotten with trembling hands I opened that sealed envelope, inside a letter, though more of an instruction, it read;
My dearest peter,
Your father and I know over the years you have struggled with your shyness, the services are no place to be shy or worried about the opposite sex so we have come to the conclusion that you need to be educated properly about it. Dad has trouble communicating as you well know so reluctantly it has fallen to me to set you right.
Please don’t question anything, just do precisely as your told here, I am doing this for you and its taking a lot to overcome my own inhibitions to help you with this even Though I have wanted you sexually since you came home excited about that swim partner of yours all those years ago, I was jealous of your hands being on her body then, but i****t is taboo as you know and that held me back.
So I have decided this is your, well our one chance and it can only last till Monday when like a sandcastle in the tide it must be gone and forgotten.
My body is your birthday present son and to ensure it is your present and not to satisfy my lust, I am going to take measures to ensure I am just yours, at the start. I will be bound, gagged and blind-folded to save my blushes initially to insure I don’t influence you in any way.
I shall be ready, on my bed, you may do whatever you will with me and too me, explore me use me do whatever your mind wishes, but just remember I am forever your dads partner so don’t damage me for him.
He knows about me teaching you and he expects us just to talk so Later you may ask me whatever you wish and I promise I will answer as honestly as I can.
But my own lust has overcame thoughts of i****t and I am determined to share a more hands on experience with you, dad and I married late as you know so just once in my lifetime I want a young virile youth as a sexual partner, I hope you find this is acceptable and you understand and won`t think ill of me.
Later when your curiosity is sated, perhaps we can really make love, for I am yours, till Monday when at midnight like Cinderella I turn back from lover and teacher to being your mother and as it would break your dads heart, we must never ever mention this weekend again even to one another.
Use this time wisely it’s my present to you and a very happy and I hope memorable birthday.
Mum.
My breakfast was instantly forgotten, I was up those stairs like an athlete. Their room door was shut but realising her situation if she wasn’t k**ding me, meant she could not answer the door I boldly pushed it open and found true to her word that she was lying on her bed her hands bound lightly to the bedrail, a gag in her mouth and her eyes blindfolded. She was in a thin nightdress and goose bumps showed she was feeling cold.
A note by her head proclaimed: A happy birthday Peter I am all yours you may cut the clothing from me its old.
My mouth fell open as I stood looking down at my mum securely mine. My first instinct was to release her from her captivity, but a little voice inside screamed NO she`s sacrificed herself here for you, it would be unkind to refuse such a magnificent gesture. I was also as Horney as hell, so that may have had a bearing....
Thus it was that with trembling hands I began to gently trace the contours of her hidden if cool body. The breasts, those soft, pliable mounds I had so long wanted, were slacker than my ex swim partner, but the nipples were easily found, standing stiff and proud like circular pyramids under the soft night dress and it wasn’t all due to the cold.
My tool was instantly hard as I felt each nub, nipped at them, pinched the rubbery tip through the thin clothing, remembered the many times with Avril and how I had longed to take the nubs in my fingers like this.
Here I was with mum`s tits in my hands the Promised Land, Shangri-La, heaven, I took the scissors she had left on her bedside table, snipped the neckline hem and tore the thin materiel open to reveal the pale white orbs of her lovely breasts.
Nothing in this world could describe this boy’s ultimate fantasy lying before me, her body heaving a little as her excited breathing had increased, the rise and fall of those fantastic breasts, her flat belly, the thin white panties covering her hips and that final taboo even health and beauty could not this time blank out.
She was my beloved mum and today she was mine! It was almost too much, my stiff cock strained at my trousers desperate for a hand to grip it. I couldn’t take my eyes off of this magnificent woman who was giving me the most sacred thing a mother could ever give her son.
Was this a secret that every family had I wondered? How many other boys received such an incredible gift from their mothers on their coming of age birthday`s. Did other mothers teach their sons how to become men or was I just exceptionally lucky.
I had to concentrate, stop rambling; she could not see me, speak or stop me doing whatever I wanted, as perhaps what we both wanted this anonymous sexual tryst.
The panties next then, my hands slid down over those smooth hips, griping the thin materiel, I slowly oh so slowly savouring this moment of total wonder as those immaculate white bits of thin lacy cloth revealed first my mother`s pubic bush, the unseen hair, uncut, and to me perfect before revealing every-man`s dream.
Mother`s hips soon raised she too wanted the panties gone; she groaned as I kissed the bush then continued the relentless removal of those all revealing pants. The white froth slid away and was off in seconds, they went I know not where, my eyes fixed like laser’s on that sacred triangle. She slowly opened her legs knowing my eyes would be boring into her womanhood; here it was the ultimate in a lad`s fantasy, soft lips, darker than the surrounding skin, dare I touch this had been taboo for so long?
Yes I dare, gently like a butterfly I touched the soft velvety folds of damp skin, and I knew I must kiss this wonderful new plaything. As I did she groaned, it is not a groan of un-happiness, her knees are opening slowly, the soft lips parted and a wet very pink open gap appeared. So this then is the famous love tunnel that I had never before seen.
My fingers explore, as her juice`s dampened my eager fingers, I tasted the stuff, I was instantly addicted. I noticed the hooded little nub at the head of the pink tunnel, eager fingers peeled back the hood, her groans were louder now, I prodded the little nub her whole body instantly stiffened...wow what a reaction!
Holding the hood with my left hand, my right fingers nipped at the nub and the result was again spectacular her hips leaped upwards she groaned as her breathing increased. She slowly returned to the bed after I leapt back, so I did the whole thing again, proving it was no one of, here then was the button that causes the maximum effect and I have never forgotten that lesson or that moment.
I kissed the nub and the effect this time is even more fascinating, moans and writhing of those hips her pubes raised as if to ensure the contact would not be lost. Her breathing was becoming laboured now so I release the gag fearful of her need for oxygen, she thanked me, I went to remove the blindfold but she said she needed that on to save her blushes and for me to go back please to what I was doing so well. I am more than happy to oblige, she was soon urging me on desperate for her own climax. My tongue slapping at that nub lapping the juices, burying its self into the folds of the soft velvety lips, chewing on the hairy bush in a frenzy of any tiny fantasies my fetid brain could come up with.
She began to shake, it was her first climax with me, though I neither understood it or had a clue as to what was happening, terror gripped me, what had I done...had I triggered a stroke perhaps like when gran died, alarmed I stepped back and she shouted for me “not to stop please not to stop!”
Confused now I did as bid and the effect was even more startling, her body convulsed under the effect of my tongue on that nub, her breaths in gasp, her fingers gripping the bars of the old bed-head, her knuckles white, her head thrashing from side to side. She had begged me to continue so I didn’t dare stop, till finally she screamed for me to cease and desist as she could take no more.
At some point, though I had not noticed, I had filled my pants with my seed, but so intense had her climax been I must say it had not registered. We both returned to the real world, she shivered and I realised she was cold, I released her wrists, and she removed her blindfold. Slightly red faced and saying she was desperate to pee she slid from the bed, setting off for our toilet but turning after a second or so to take my hand and lead me to our bathroom. She stepped up into the bathtub faced me then opened her bladder, quietly letting me see just where her stream left her body and explaining that as I had said I wondered how women do this trick with no dick she felt I should see.
Well now I knew...and together we laughed. Then she dried herself and dusted her sex with talc, before taking me back to her bed. This time both of us under her blanket, both naked as she explained that she had wanted the first few moments together to be all my own work, with her not able to influence me one little bit.
I asked how she had secured herself, both wrists being tied. She smiled then said she had heard me go downstairs so she gagged and blindfolded herself, then tied the other hand, before using a small weight, she had wrapped her wrist then just dropped the weight, it was enough, she was secured, however she said that she had expected me earlier I had been a long time and it had struck cold waiting so long!
It was my turn to explain that I had lit the fire for her downstairs, as I had not expected to be entertained up here, and I had waited for her before going for the cornflakes.
She gently kissed me, and oh so slowly we began to fondle one another, it was no longer mother and son it was lovers.
By now I was stiff again; this was to be her time as well. We explored one another, her hands on my prick proved just too much for me and I sprayed seed all over her, she said that was a fine compliment and it would make me last longer next time.
I suckled on her nipples, I needed at the soft flesh, I tasted her sex, and then finally she fed my tool into her body to make love. It was out of this world, I came again this time deep inside her warm cavity, and it was beyond words can express.
We slept a little then in an entwined embrace, before we did it again, together we reached that combined climax; it was beyond my limited comprehension.
We talked, I asked about this and that and she either explained or showed me, she fleshed out the dry, school sex instruction, she told me of periods, of c***dbirth all from a woman`s perspective and of contraception, and diseases. She was neither shy, nor talking down to me just matter of fact clear concise instruction. It was marvellous I learnt more on the subject in that morning than in my life so far, we were both by now ravenous, so at my insistence we went naked, down to the kitchen where she cooked bacon and eggs, while I did tea, bread and butter.
We sat, still unashamedly naked in front of the fire eating this late breakfast and chatting. It seemed so natural, the firelight reflecting from her smooth skin, on this dark damp and stormy November day, as we sat at the table eating to keep us going, as we both expected the next hours would be a sexual marathon.
It suddenly came to me about her lack of contraception, but she assured me she had been in her words “fixed” just after my birth, she suggested we used the warm hearth rug for a while, and together we explored the joy of the fireside in what I now know as cowgirl position, she blew me, she wanked me, she loved me and precious time passed, it was soon teatime and though as fit as a flea from all that swimming I was becoming exhausted, still naked we cooked again, ate and dozed in front of the warm fire.
Determined not to waste those precious hours, as soon as I awoke I had to have her again, she roused herself and said it was the nicest call she could remember. The fire nearly out, we staggered off to bed; we slept soundly her hand gripping my tired dick and my fingers up inside her warm wet body.
Dawn broke still wet, grey and windy; I worked on her clit till she awoke. She went to the toilet, to my surprise telling me to relight the fire in the living room and to run a bath.
I did as she asked, then together we bathed, me enjoying the feel of her slippery soapy skin, taking great care of her breasts and sex you can be sure.
We breakfasted, me fetching in the milk in just my dressing gown, it was still doorstep delivery in those days, and a widowed neighbour sloshing along in her raincoat eyeing my lack of clothes and naked feet and grunting a surprised greeting. Her sad life I mused as grey as the weather.
The meal over my lover decided to offer me something she said she had always wanted to try. Shedding her dressing gown now the room had warmed; she knelt down and then got onto all fours. She had me lubricate her tight backside with some margarine and then telling me this was ‘anal intercourse’ she instructed me to force my prick into the tight rosebud she waggled before me.
Now this was somewhat out of my zone, but it was her weekend as well as mine and force she said and if that`s what she wanted force she would get. A finger-full of marge smeared onto and into the tight ring, and then in with my finger which brought forth a loud groan, when finally the tip of my cockhead found its target, it got a grunt. I asked if she was sure and ready and no doubt gritted teeth, she nodded, and grunted “do it” so I just rammed it into her.
Wow, as it stretched her ring did she scream, her body convulsed and the tight hot grip round my staff increased tenfold.
I asked if she wanted me to withdraw, but she said the pain would subside and to remain still for a bit she would ‘cope’, but if I did it again to be gentle, which I happily promised to do. We lay still, joined, while she regained her composure.
To my surprise she then said;”God Peter that was so good, it was lovely and painful at the same time. Start gently now and we will see how we go!” I did just that, it was heaven, she gasped at me “harder”, I tried, again she groaned, “go on hard as you can” at the back of my mind I did not wish to hurt her, but she begged “please,” harder, harder, HARDER, by now I was hammering into her butt like a crazed Jigger pick, “GOD” she called, “go on wreck me, hurt me, fill me, oh pleeease,” and together we came like crazy, me pumping seed deep into her bowels and her shaking her head, gasping and groaning .
My shrivelled tool slid free after a while, she lay wrecked, desperately trying to get her senses back.
Later I asked about her need for that pain, she said “She had always enjoyed sexual pain, but your dad would have no part of it, she said she had not had any real pain sex since before she met dad, and I had done well.”
I asked why Anal and she said “again your dad would never do that saying folks who did that in his words “was a bunch of turd burgling arse bandits!” Which, for my dad was a speech!
So being me I asked her “As this is a one of opportunity is there anything else dad won`t do that you have the hot`s for?” then to convince her I added “this will probably be your last chance,” Reading this now it was a tasteless comment, but she ignored the gaff and sat mulling over the offer as if weighing up the options against my capabilities.
After a while she asked if I was serious, would I do whatever she asked regardless. To which I assured her I was happy to do anything she wanted, so she explained that her father, my late grandfather had been a sadist, luckily her mother loved pain so they were a perfect couple.
As a girl her dad would spank her over the knee and naked in front of her brothers “as an example” for the least thing
Later he took her virginity while her mum held her hand and still later would take her anally and hard each time with her mother present; it seemed he did that to her mother as well occasionally.
On one occasion he had placed needles through her mother`s nipples while she stood and watched and then made her mother work round the house all day naked, the boys being at school. According to her, her mother cried all day, but had a large number of climaxes just from the pain. She had always wondered about the effects of those needles.
Mum looked at me with a hard to explain look and I realised what she wanted me to do, she needed to try that pain, she had wondered all these years about it. I said “where do we get sterile needles on a wet Monday without going out?” She said she had the needles, and had wanted to try the thing but had chickened out each time she had tried on herself the pain being just beyond what she could self inflict.
I asked “if you are sure I will do it for you but only if you realy are absolutely sure” She said she was absolutely certain as she had wanted to try that pain this last 25 years but she knew she needed to be secured and gagged but only if I could bring myself to “do the business” and she wanted no half measures. There could be “no chickening out,” she said, once started it must be completed and not removed for a whole hour regardless of her pleas; if I couldn’t do it properly we would not try it all.”
I assured her I would only do it if she really did want it, but what were we to do for the hour though?
She suggested that if her hands were secure behind her, I could do to her whatever I wished, have her perhaps over the table end, “to pass away the time!” She insisted though the gag remained in for the whole hour and that she needed to be “really secure, while I placed the needles but un-gagged when the needles were removed”
Well I had agreed, so she went off and returned from their hiding place with three 3” long thin needles, sterile, and still in a package, she said she had had four but tried and could not go through with it herself.
She fetched some new rope that she had bought for replacing our old washing line, though dad hadn’t so far managed to do the job.
She sat astride a dining chair and placed her breasts over the high back, then looked at me expectantly, so I began to tie her to the chair.
She begged me to be sure it was realy tight, so she couldn’t move back, which I did with a rope under her bust and round her body. She nodded her approval and then she placed her hands behind her back for me to use the tail end of the rope to secure her hands, to me that was as erotic as it ever gets.
I asked if she wished the pins to run top to bottom or side to side, she chose top to bottom one from the top and one from underneath and then suggested as there was a third one, I could use it anywhere I wished after the first two were in properly placed but it had to be removed before she was released from the chair. I asked if she was certain and she nodded, quietly asking first that I did the two just as her father had, very slowly and with much care. I mentally marked precisely where from and to she wished the things to go and was surprised at them being in the most sensitive location the areola [though I only knew it as the ring!]
She reminded me about a gag as she didn’t wish the neighbours disturbed, so a flannel rolled up was soon in between her teeth, it was held in by a scarf knotted tightly at the rear of her head.
Her eyes were bright as buttons expectant and never leaving my hands as I broke out that first needle, you could feel her fear as I placed the tip of that steel onto the top of her left areola and let it rest, she knew as I did nothing would stop me from doing what she had craved all those years.
Her eyes like saucers now, as I looked at her for her permission, no words could convey that moment as she nodded her fearful assent.
Pressure now, as the tip first pierced her pink skin and then slowly to the accompaniment of her muffled scream that needle slid relentlessly through the meat of her soft breast. The little point oh so slowly bust from the lower skin, accompanied by her long drawn out moan, tears running from her eyes.
I waited a moment or two, her eyes never left mine as if willing me to complete the job, but fearful of me doing so.
I broke out the second needle, she knew now what to expect, I lifted the left breast supporting the heavy meat by the nipple. Again the tip of the needle found the areola; again I looked deep into her eyes and said “ready?”
Tears still coursed down her face as she gave a nearly imperceptible nod. Forcing the tip through the skin and supporting the needle I released the breast. This willing victims own breast weight, now slowly oh so very slowly took that needle up through itself.
To both of us watching mesmerised to our fascination a small pointed hillock of skin slowly rose just at the edge of that tender ring and as the sharp tip slowly tore itself through the skin, again accompanied by the whimpering moan and the tears of a woman in to me unimaginable pain. I allowed her to settle then removed the rope, leaving her secured hands. Then I helped her up, turned her to face the table then slowly made her bend forward till her breasts and nose touched the surface.
She moaned again, as I slid myself into it must be said a very wet sex, ramming myself at her caused her needles to grate painfully on the table-top, she immediately climaxed, it was massive convulsion of mega proportions, her breathing heavy, noisy if still muffled cries, the whole nine yards. That caused me to fill her body which in itself added to her moment.
When she returned to our world, her eyes begged for release, but I pointed to the clock, “you have another 20 minutes sweety, sorry, but you would not thank me if I released you yet!”
Her eyes showed she was resigned to her fate, she knew I would do her bidding to the letter
I fingered her clit again as we both watched the wall clock avidly, that minute hand moved slowly and with each few moments came another climax of sorts, though my fingers were getting tired strumming at that clit.
Time nearly up I now I turned her to that old chair and she straddled the seat sitting patiently waiting release, but I still had the third needle; her tear filled eyes followed my hands as I broke out that last needle. I raise the tip to her left nipple, pricked the tip just on the tip of the pink nub, her eyes wide I looked askance at her, she closed her eyes, not bearing to watch, then came the permissive nod.
This time I rammed the thing in hard and fast about an inch or more, direct through the nipple and towards her body. Her scream was muffled but loud, her head shaking side to side with the pain.
I let her settle a little, and then I slowly eased out that needle, causing yet another long scream.
I released the gag then before I slowly removed the right then the left needle. She was chewing her lips, trying desperately not to scream the whole time, it was soon over and I released her bound hands.
We dosed the tiny marks with antiseptic, before I made tea, hot and sweet, nothing having been said as she came down. We sat in companiable silence drinking the tea, and then she began to talk. She thanked me sincerely, which surprised me, saying she would never have ever understood her mother`s reaction that day and then she related the whole thing again, asking my take on it.
The third needle she said had thrown her, and how her mother had worked all day she had no idea as the pain was to her out of this world. She said she was glad we had done it, but was glad it was only for that hour and that she would never have it happen again, though the climaxes she had had on that table were something else.
Together we cooked tea. After the meal we went round the living room and tidied up checking that there was nothing incriminating for dad to find, then together we showered and then made slow and tender love, it would soon be midnight and Cinderella became mum once more and we knew we must revert to mother and son.
I have never forgotten that weekend, nor the lessons learnt, and till now I`ve told not a soul. My unsuspecting dad`s, long gone now, in fact so has Mum, on her death bed she whispered to me that our Cinderella weekend had been a highlight and a gentle smile I hope of fond memory, crossed her face as she quietly touched her left nipple and her last words to me were “Thanks Peter!” as she slipped away.