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Sex Secrets Men Never Hear free porn video
Sex Secrets Men Never Hear
by Jill Crokett
This is a true story. Names and locations have been changed to protect theconfidentiality of those involved.
A few years ago my very close friend and co-worker Sharon and I were talkinga bit of "girls-ears-only" type of girl-talk while driving back home to SouthernCalifornia after a weekend real estate seminar in the Bay Area. We had takena couple extra days, making an adventure out of the long weekend, taking ina bit of the Coast Highway on the way north, and an obscure Central Valleyvineyard on the way home.
With weekend meeting in San Francisco over, we were making our way home ata leisurely pace on a Sunday, heading south toward houses, jobs, relationships,and offspring. The stresses of our middle-aged lives had been temporarily lifted,and as we rolled along we laughed up a storm, poking fun at our men, neighbors,in-laws, and co-workers. It was a "girls' weekend out" and we were making themost of the last hours of it.
We stopped at a minor-label Central Valley winery for brief tour, not forgettingto visit the tasting room. The good-looking, early-thirties-something guy servingup the "tastes" patronizingly flirted with us, and we, a couple of slightlyoverweight, late-40-something, blond-highlighted businesswomen did our bestto flirt back, giggling among ourselves like a couple of schoolgirls.
We probably had a little bit too much "taste", and as the car lazily resumedits southward trek down I-5, the wine further unlocked the gift of gab in bothof us. Girl-gab for sure. It was the kind of talk that men, even husbands,never hear. Complaints? Lots. Regrets? Sure. As the two of us passed the timewith chit-chat and secret whispers of old college-era boyfriends, the talkcomfortably progressed to sex; the kind of girlish sex-talk that male earsnever hear. Then, like deer in the headlights, the conversation suddenly ranhead-on into a secret from the dark corners of my youth.
Sharon, still a bit giggly from both the wine and the sexual conversation,asked me "When was the first time you ever saw a guy's thing?"
She could tell from my silence that my response, if it came at all, wouldshift the air of the conversation to a more serious tone. She waited patientlyand listened.
As her inquiry rolled through my brain, my thoughts drifted back to a fardifferent time and place some 40 years ago; the Deep South of the mid 1960s.
As memories long buried flooded my consciousness, the wine prompted me totell Sharon a story that I'd never told anyone before.
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I had essentially grown up in a home with no males. My father and motherhad divorced when I was barely seven, and after that I only saw my dad aboutone week out of the year. His work had taken him to Seattle, were he eventuallybegan a new life with a new family.
I was an only child, growing up in a house occupied only by myself and mymother. Although mom did finally remarry when I was fifteen, and my step-daddid eventually become a strong masculine figure in our previously all-feminineenclave, that late exposure to male-ness came long after I had already discoveredhow and why boys and girls were different.
A year after my parents divorced, mom and I moved back to her hometown onthe Texas Gulf Coast where her sister and mother lived. Aunt Beth and grandmalived right next door to one another in a clean but modest working class neighborhood.My mother must have desired a bit of privacy because she rented us a smallhouse several miles from their neighborhood, even though we could have rentedone there.
Soon after we were settled mom got a job as a lab technician at the localhospital on the afternoon shift, so I rode the bus to my aunt's house everydayafter school.
Staying at my aunt's house after school was fun, and I instantly bonded withmy new "big sister", my cousin Ann, who was a whole year-and-a-half older thanme, and would, over the coming months and years, explain to me the entire realmof womanhood, boys, and sex. Ann was always mischievously entertaining, andI thoroughly enjoyed my frequent sleepovers where I always shared her room.It was a time of discovering my "girl power" and the blossoming of a senseof sisterhood within me.
Aunt Beth was a somewhat petite but rather strong, compact woman; about 5feet, 2 inches tall and slim at the waist, with short black hair which shenever made much fuss over. Unless she was heading to church, early-thirties-somethingBeth always wore a simple one-color, fitted-waist housedress of the "DonnaReed" fashion. Mom's younger sister had a willful personality and alwaysspoke with an air of authority. She was definitely the dominant adult it thathousehold, and at times she could be quite strict. She was religious too, firmlybelieving in the Bible phrase "spare the rod and spoil the child."
Aunt Beth's husband was a tall, broad shouldered, good-looking oil-fieldworker named Ray. Ray was a quiet man who always wore a flannel shirt. I don'tever recall him saying one word to me. Uncle Ray, as I called him, worked onan oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico and was usually gone for three weeks at atime. Looking back on the situation, I guess Beth's stern demeanor grew fromboth the frustration and necessity of wearing both parental hats in a householdwhere two spirited pre-teens were growing up in a somewhat challenging working-classneighborhood.
My widowed grandmother was a rather serious woman in her late fifties wholived alone in a small, white, asbestos-shingled frame house next door. Itwas almost identical to Aunt Beth's house, and the back doors of the two framebungalows were not more than ten steps apart. As a matter of fact grandma wasover Aunt Beth's house so often that they might as well have all lived underone roof.
Grandma always came over and kept an eye on us kids whenever Aunt Beth hadto run to the store or had to attend one of her ladies' church-group meetings.The only time when grandma watched over us kids in her own house was when UncleRay first got home after being out on the rig for a three week stint. If thatwere the case, Ann and Will and I had to pick up our dolls and comic booksand hike next door to grandma's for the first 24 hours of his return. We weretold that he and Aunt Beth needed some "quiet time" together, and we were strictlyforbidden to bother them during that first day of his return. If we were goodand didn't bother them, on the second day Ray would pack up the whole crewof us and take us out for a big fried shrimp dinner in his station wagon.
Grandma was strong, stout woman of about 57 who wore her hair in a tightbun. Her personality exuded a silent dominance over the household.
At eleven, Cousin Ann's older brother Will was three years older than me.He was sort of a tough-acting, showoff kind of boy. I thought of Cousin Willas a good-looking "older" boy who I looked up to. As an eight year old girlI was definitely fascinated with him, as I had never before observed a boy "closeup" before.
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Early one evening there was a distinct anxious tension in the air as AuntBeth, Grandma, Ann, and I sat at the dinner table. The two adult women nervouslypicked at their food and shot brief, tense stares at one another. It was ahalf hour past supper time and Will was still not home after leaving to playin the neighborhood two hours earlier. Aunt Beth was steaming.
Suddenly the phone rang and Aunt Beth answered with a long reach to the kitchenwall. I could tell from her voice that the topic of conversation was serious.
There was a corner drugstore about six or seven blocks from the house, butwe were strictly forbidden to walk up there without permission. From what wecould tell from Beth's half of the conversation, it was the police on the phone.Will had been caught shoplifting a pack of cigarettes at the drugstore. Theowner had agreed not to press shoplifting charges against Will if the policewould drive him home and have his parent's pledge that they would keep himout of the store.
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Ann and I stared out the living room window as a shiny, black and white policecruiser pulled up to the curb in front of the house. Aunt Beth stood in theopen doorway and glared out as a uniformed police officer led Will, his headhanging down in shame, up the short concrete walk to the front door. We couldalmost feel Beth's humiliation as one of her fellow church members who liveddirectly across the street stared out her front window at the scene. Seeingher, Aunt Beth knew all too well that the story of the police bringing herdelinquent son home would soon be distributed throughout the congregation.
After Aunt Beth spoke with the policeman briefly, she signed a paper forhim and he turned and walked back to his squad car. By now several neighborkids had gathered around it.
Aunt Beth shut the front door and turned and stared coldly at her son. Shethen looked to her mother. Grandma looked back at her and motioned with hereyes toward Ann and me. Aunt Beth turned to Ann and me and told us to go toAnn's room, shut the door, and stay there until we were told to come out. Ihad no idea what was going on, but Ann seemed to know something was up.
We immediately retreated to Ann's room, which was a short distance down ahallway from the living room, leaving Aunt Beth, Grandma, and eleven-year-oldWill standing silently in the center of the living room. From the window inAnn's room we could see the back steps, and into the back yard. A few momentslater we saw grandma leave through the back door and briskly walk over towardher house.
"She's going to get the strap" Ann whispered to me as she peeked out thewindow at our grandmother.
At that time I didn't know what Ann already knew from experience, which wasthat my grandmother kept a short, cut-off piece of an old leather belt hangingfrom a nail on the wall inside her small enclosed back porch. The strap wasabout half a belt length and apparently had been in the family for some time.A short handle was fashioned with black tape at one end of it.
Ann quickly told me about Grandma's strap, and she theorized that Will wasgoing to get a taste of it.
As grandma disappeared from view I heard Will say in an almost crying voice "Nomama, No mama please, please no."
I thought that was strange, because Grandma had not returned with the strapyet. From the sound, I thought Will must be getting punished already. I waswrong.
Ann held her finger up to her lips to tell me to be silent as she slowlycrept up to her closed bedroom door. I followed right behind her, peering overher shoulder. As Ann ever so quietly cracked open her bedroom door, both ofus got a clear view directly down the hallway into the center of the livingroom.
What I saw for the next few minutes I will never forget as long as I live.My Aunt Beth was standing in front of Will, pulling his T-shirt off over hishead. His shoes had already been untied and slipped off his feet.
As Will continued to plead, Aunt Beth now knelt directly in front of himand slid her fingers underneath the front waistband of his blue jeans. As shemoved to unsnap his jeans, Will grabbed her hands and tried to move them away.With a sudden jerk Aunt Beth pulled one of her hands free of his grip and slappedhim across the face. As he began to cry in shame she ordered him to place hishands on the top his head and not move them.
As the 11-year-old boy stood bare-chested with his hands atop his head likea prisoner, Aunt Beth, still kneeling, once again moved her slender fingersunder his waistband and unsnapped the button of her son's blue jeans.
I was an eight and a half year old girl who had never seen a boy undressedbefore. My heart pounded out of my chest with anticipation as I peered overAnn's shoulder through the cracked doorway and stared down the hall into theliving room. I actually was afraid that my rapid breathing and pounding heartbeatwould reveal our act of disobedience.
Aunt Beth quickly unzipped the blue jeans and firmly pulled them all theway down to Will's ankles, immediately grabbing his legs at the calves andlifting his feet out of the pant legs one at a time.
As I watched the boy stand there in nothing but his white briefs with hishands on top of his head, I heard my grandmother enter through the kitchendoor. I could not yet see grandma from my viewpoint, but I could see that Beth,who was still kneeling, turned to look at her. My cousin's face, framed byhis upturned arms, wrinkled up in an expression of horror followed by a sobwhen he saw what my grandmother had returned with. The strap.
"The short pants too" grandma ordered to her daughter, as my 32-year-oldAunt Beth, still kneeling, turned her gaze to her son's crotch. My heart poundedas Beth slipped her slender fingers under the elastic waistband of her 11-year-oldson's underwear.
With one motion Beth obediently stripped down Will's underwear, pulling thewhite briefs down to his ankles and ordering him to step out of them. The boywas now completely naked as his sister, his mother, his grandmother, and afemale cousin, all gazed upon him. Will was circumcised, and I was fascinatedby the large, darker knob-like head that adorned the end of his small shaft.His smooth, bird-egg-like balls are so different than anything any of us girlshad. Gazing on this naked boy was a moment I knew I would never forget.
For whatever element of humiliation Will suffered from being stripped nakedin front of his mother and grandmother, it was nothing to compare with whathe was to endure over the next 15 minutes.
This sounds we heard coming from Will over the next 15 minutes were unlikeany I had ever heard in my life. As his sister and I watched, the two strongwomen laid the naked boy on his back across what was called a hassock, whichwas really just a large upholstered foot stool that went at the end of an easychair. Once Will was on his back the two women grabbed his ankles and liftedthem up over his head in the same position one would use for diapering a baby.
Grandma used her strong hands and forearms to grab his ankles, bending hisknees and pushing them to his underarms. In this position his knees were forcedto spread open at either side of his chest, causing his butt to protrude upward.From our view, Ann and I could now see his asshole, with his balls now seemingto sit atop his stomach. As Grandma used her heavy weight to firmly securinghim in this position, Aunt Beth picked up the strap and with all her mightproceeded to welt the boy's round, upturned bottom.
Will's screams soon turned into a sobbing cry. He cried like a baby, gaspingfor air as the strokes rapidly marked his boyish butt cheeks. He jerked andquivered as Aunt Beth strapped him as hard as she could, and as he jerked aboutI watched intently, totally fascinated in seeing his dick and balls dance about.
As the proceedings ended we closed the door very slowly and quietly, andno one except Ann and I knew anything of our spying. Grandma went home, butwe heard Will continue to cry for nearly an hour after her strapping.
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A year or so later, Ann and I were playing in the backyard. It was one ofthose days when Uncle Ray had just come home from a three-week tour of dutyon the oil rig, and us kids were staying at Grandma's for the afternoon andevening. It was quite overcast and the clouds were threatening, and Ann wenton into Grandma's house while I continued to play with my Etch-a-sketch atthe picnic table in the backyard. There was no fence between Aunt Beth's backyardand Grandma's backyard, and us kids played back there as if it were one bigbackyard.
Suddenly there was a clap of thunder and in my sudden rush to get insideI totally forgot that it was an afternoon that we were to stay a Grandma's.Frightened by the thunder, I instinctively ran into Aunt Beth's back door,where we usually stayed. As I walked through the kitchen I looked about, wonderingwhere everyone was, totally forgetting that we were supposed to be next-doorat Grandma's.
As I moved a through the living room I suddenly heard the muffled sound ofmy Aunt Beth crying. The sound seemed to be coming from her bedroom. Thinkingsomething was wrong I walked down the hall to her bedroom door, which was openedjust a few inches. As I listened I heard Aunt Beth crying steadily, interspersedwith interjections of "oh my God, oh my God."
As a 10-year-old, I really didn't have any idea what was going on. As I peeredthrough the cracked bedroom door I could clearly see Uncle Ray's nude backsideand broad shoulders turned facedown, his narrow butt moving forcefully up anddown in rapid, determined strokes. To my shock I saw my petite, five-foot-twoAunt Beth's feet and ankles sticking up over each side of Ray's shoulders.I didn't know it at that time, but Aunt Beth was getting her brains fuckedout.
Frightened, I wanted to leave, but I was afraid my movement might alert themto my presence. I stood frozen still for a while as Beth continue to screamand actually cry as her pussy was pounded.
I tiptoed back toward the kitchen. By this time Ray had apparently cum insideher, because before I knew it he was coming down the hall to the bathroom totake a pee. I hid behind a chair in the living room. I heard him urinate andhe then walked back out of the bathroom and headed back toward the bedroom.
As he walked out of the bathroom, for a brief moment I caught a glimpse ofwhat a grown man's semi-erect penis looked like. It was huge. For a long timeafter that I thought that Aunt Beth must have been really crying in pain, notecstasy. I didn't understand how my petite Aunt Beth could take all that insideher. Ray was really hung.
Maybe it was just because he had just come, and his dick was still quitefull, but as a little girl the sight of it made a real big impression on me.To this day I do believe that the crying noise Beth made was real crying, butnow I know it was a crying of love and ecstasy. The sight of Uncle Ray's monstertool did make me fear sex for a while, but that all ended when I first fellin love when I was 16.
Just as I made my way into the kitchen and tried to slip out the back door,Aunt Beth suddenly walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water. She wascompletely naked.
"What are you doing here" she yelled in a shocked voice. I washonest and I told her I had simply walked in the wrong backdoor. She didn'tknow I had seen them fucking, and she didn't make a big deal of my intrusion.
"Go back to Grandma's" she said, and nothing further was ever made of it.Uncle Ray took us for the big fried shrimp dinner the next day, just like healways did.
It didn't dawn on me then, because I was a 10-year-old girl, but lookingback on it I now realize that Aunt Beth's pussy was clean-shaven. Probablya little homecoming treat for her man Ray. He really did have a huge tool,and he really did fuck the shit out of her.
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Several years after watching Ray and Beth fuck, I had my first orgasm whilesitting in the bathtub at home. Mom was at work and I was old enough to stayhome by myself now. I turned the water on and lay on my back, spreading mythighs open and putting my heels up on the sides of the tub. I bent my kneesand scooted my pussy up under the water flow. As I was slowly stimulated toarousal by the flowing water I had two fantasies to choose from.
One of those fantasies was big, strong Ray giving Aunt Beth's tight shavedpussy a really hard, fast fucking with her legs high up over his shoulderswhile she screamed and begged for mercy.
The other was Aunt Beth strapping my completely naked Cousin Will's buttcheeks while my grandmother firmly held him in the diaper position. I camethat first time thinking about Will getting stripped and having his butt weltedby those two strong, dominant women.
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