mommys helping hands pt 2
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Mommy's Darling 1: Lipstick Boy free porn video
Mommy's Darling 1: Lipstick Boy
By Billie Lovelace
When I was growing up my mother wanted to weaken my masculine aggressiveness. She was a
glamorous, full-bosomed woman who'd had her fill of macho men. My father was a macho
pig and she wanted me to be different.
Mother never spanked me. She didn't have to. She weakened my masculine identity by
manipulating my need for maternal love and approval. Then she trained me to identify
erotic excitement with the more feminine side of my personality.
Whenever I got out of line mother would remind me she'd never wanted a son. She was
hoping for a girl and was disappointed that I turned out to be a boy.
"Why couldn't you have been a girl?" she'd ask. "I don't like boys. They're too rough
and aggressive. I should have put you up for adoption the day you were born."
Then she'd become cold and distant. She'd threaten to abandon me or put me in an
orphanage if I turned out to be like my father. I was terrified. Mother was all I had
and I needed her love and approval. So I tried hard to please her -- and what pleased
her was for me to be gentle and submissive and take an interest in things feminine.
When other boys played cowboy or soldier, I remained close to mother. I cooked, did
housework, shopped for clothes and went to the hairdresser with her and her
girlfriends. Mother liked me when I took an interest in her interests -- and I was
desperate for her love and affection.
Sometimes mother would call me into her bedroom and make small talk as she sat before
her vanity -- brushing her hair, painting her nails, and doing her makeup. She was
usually wearing little more than a bra, panties, garter belt, nylons, and heels.
Sometimes, she might also have on a filmy peignoir or negligee, or a slip. I loved
these intimate moments together. Mother was very beautiful and I was fascinated and
fell in love with the way she seductively painted her lips and the way she tipped her
head and smiled at me when putting on her earrings. She must have sensed the love and
fascination in my eyes. Years later I realized she was deliberately seducing me --
using feminine beauty and charm to weaken my masculine identity.
Once, after seductively applying layer after layer of shiny red lipstick, she turned
toward me and said, "Would you like to try it, sweetie? Wear lipstick like mommy? Just
for fun, honey. It'd make mommy so happy."
She noticed my puzzlement and confusion. On the one hand, I was a boy and boys don't
wear lipstick. On the other hand, I adored my mother. She was so beautiful. I wanted to
please her and be just like her. Still, I was a boy.
"No, mom," I replied, "lipstick's for girls, not boys."
"Don't be silly," mother responded. "Don't you think I know that? I'm not saying you
should wear it all the time, or outside, or to school. Just here, darling. Just for
fun. Just for mommy. To make her happy. Please, honey? I'd love to see how you'd look.
I bet you'd be darling."
I paused. All at once mother's smile was replaced by a severe scowl. She closed the
tube of lipstick and placed it on the vanity.
"Well," she huffed, "if you don't want to please your mother, you can go live with
someone else. Or go to an orphanage. But I want you out of my room. I don't want to
have anything to do with a boy who doesn't love his mother enough to play a harmless
little game with her. Tomorrow I want you out of my house. You can find someplace else
to live or I'll put you up for adoption."
I was scared -- really scared! This time it sounded as if she really meant it. So I
quickly changed my tune.
"I was just kidding, mommy," I said, "just kidding. I'd like to try lipstick. Honest, I
would. It would be fun." Hoping to make amends, I then added, "And maybe some nail
polish too. Could I, mommy? Try nail polish? Just this once?"
Mother's frown was immediately replaced with a big smile and I knew I'd said the right
thing. "That's a good boy," she said. "That's a boy who loves his mommy."
She picked up the tube of lipstick and grinned. She removed the cap and seductively
twisted the bottom. I was mesmerized as the phallic tip of the shiny red lipstick
slowly emerged from the tube.
"Okay, darling," she said. "Pucker up and let me get started."
Mother painted my lips and fingernails a matching shade of red -- and she added
mascara, eye shadow, and rouge. Then it was time for a necklace and some sexy clip-on
earrings. She made me look in the mirror and I hardly recognized myself. Except for my
hair, I looked like the kind of pretty, made-up girl you see in pre-teen beauty
pageants.
Then mother drew me to her large perfumed bosom. "Oh darling," she said, "you look so
pretty. You've got such a sweet, girlish mouth. You should have been a girl. Then we'd
have so much fun dressing up and shopping clothes and shoes and getting our hair and
nails done together. Wouldn't that be nice, sweetheart? Mother and daughter. You'd be
my sweet little girl and I'd teach you everything I know about looking and feeling
pretty."
Her roaming hands found my little nipples and began, ever so gently, to stimulate them.
Then she placed her painted lips on mine and gave me a kiss -- first a delicate soft
one and then hard passionate one. I was eleven-years-old and had never been kissed on
the lips. Desperate for mother's love and affection, I submissively yielded as she
opened my lips with hers and aggressively thrust her tongue into my mouth. At the same
time she continued to fondle my nipples, setting up a connection in my mind between
wearing lipstick and erotic excitement.
That night, as she put me to bed, mother sat by my side and once again lightly touched
and caressed my sensitive nipples. "Does this feel nice, darling?" she asked. "Do you
like what I'm doing?"
I knew what I had to say, whether I liked it or not (though, of course, I did like it).
"Yes, mother. It feels so good. Please don't stop."
She smiled. "I only do this for sweet little boys," she said, "who dress and act like
sweet little girls. Are you my sweet little boy, honey? Do you want to wear lipstick
and be mommy's darling?"
"Yes, mommy," I said.
"Yes, what, dear?"
"I want to wear lipstick and be mommy's darling."
Mother smiled. She leaned over and gently touched her lips to mine. Then she left me
alone with my thoughts.
I was totally confused. On the one hand, I enjoyed pleasing mother and was thrilled by
her seductive touch and soul-searching kiss. On the other hand, I was a boy and boys
aren't supposed to wear lipstick and ear rings. Maybe if it remained private and
limited to makeup and jewelry, it would be okay. But, as I was soon to learn, mother
had no intention of keeping my feminization private, or of limiting it to makeup and
jewelry.
To be continued
Safiya
- 08.05.2022
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