Jun 19, 2008

Jun 10, 2008

Sugasm 135

Thanks to Sugasm.com for posting a link to my story Political Maneuvers!!


The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #136? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
The Angel and the Devil
“Upon looking at my creamy white and feeling my soft lips you would think I am an angel.”

How To Approach A Dominant Woman
“Wrong way: Perhaps you know me from my blog….”

Intimate
“Lying back so the full aura from the lamp lights the area in question, I spread my legs and let him see.”


Mr. Sugasm Himself

Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice
How does one trust?

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See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Jun 6, 2008

Lovely Ladies

Sugasm 134

Big thanks to the folks at Sugasm for picking up my story Cerebral Trainee Subject: Susan Part 2 for this week's post!


The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #135? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Tantra is work and a two way street
“Tantra is hard work and is not all light and orgasmic play.”

Nyotaimori
“She smiles wantonly, but says nothing.”

Submit
“But when you’re really attracted to someone, and part of that attraction is to their dominance, it almost gives you a second wind for pain.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice
Discussing a lifestyle event with strangers

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Jun 2, 2008

Political Maneuvers

I detest Family Politics. It's like living in a soap opera that you can't escape. But there are times when the pressures of the family can have some benefits if you look at it right.

Madeline is the matriarch of my wife's family. The old bird is slightly to the right of Atilla the Hun and a little more rich than William Randolph Hearst. She kept the purse strings pulled tight, dangling them over the heads of her children from the time they were born and always threatening to remove them from her will if they caused her any grief.

Despite a few scrapes with the law and never finishing anything she started, my wife's sister Anne maintained a tenuous grasp at staying in her mother's good graces. That could all change, though, if Madeline learned of who Anne had been spending time with. Anne was strictly forbidden (the way a five year old is forbidden from touching the stove) from having any contact with her former fiance.

Like I said; a soap opera. And, like all soaps, this story needed a villain. I was more than happy to step in.

I approached her one night at her apartment--inviting myself over with the ruse of needing to discuss the perfect birthday gift for my wife--armed with photographs of Anne and her ex-fiance taken only the week before.

It's not that I wanted to cause Anne any distress. It's just that I wanted her.


"What the fuck? You followed me!?!" she screamed.

"I did. You'd been acting... differently, lately," I replied as calmly as I could.

She collapsed onto her couch, her head in her hands, and started crying. "Can't you fucking see? I was happy! Happy!"

It was always a drama with Anne.

"You can still be happy, Anne. But I want to be happy, too."

Her tears, half crocodile/half genuine, began to recede. "What do you mean?"

"Simply this; I've been attracted to you since the day I met you. I'd be willing to make sure Madeline never sees these pictures as long as you'd be willing to, uh, fulfill my needs."

"You mean... you want to fuck me? That's sick! You're my sister's husband!"

"I don't see anything sick about it, Anne. Your sister's a wonderful woman, but she doesn't satisfy me in the bedroom. I know you're a hot piece of ass, and that's what I need. Think of it as saving her marriage and saving yourself a lot of grief by putting out for me." I was amazed at how calm I remained while pleading my case to her. I'd thought these words so many times before, pulling my pud in private or banging my wife while imagining Anne instead.

I could hear the wheels turning in her head; I practically smelled the smoke. Anne had a lot going on with her trim, toned body but there wasn't much happening above the neck, so to speak. She stood and came closer to me. The look in her eye was one of smoldering hatred. I would have preferred smoldering lust.

She grabbed the photos out of my hand and violently shredded them into tiny pieces. The look of satisfaction and defiance on her face when she was done was priceless. I began to laugh, stepping closer to her and putting my hand on her shoulder.

"The originals and the negatives are in my safety deposit box, Anne." She turned away from me. I put my mouth to her ear and whispered, "You don't have to give me everything, Anne. I just want one part of you. I don't want your heart, just your ass."

She spun around and went to hit me. I caught her wrist with one hand and grabbed the other. I wanted her to realize that I had the upper hand. "It's the thing your sister won't do for me," I hissed. "A man has needs. I can find a whore who will let me fuck her ass when the need arises and break your sister's heart or you and I can come to an understanding. You can still give your pussy away to whoever you want, but I need your ass, understood?"

She was scared now; her eyes were wide. The arms slowly went slack with what I could only describe as resolve. She looked down and quietly muttered, "Yes."

"That's 'yes, Sir,' Anne. Show a little respect."

Her temper flared again but I held tight to her wrists. I'm sure she'd see bruises there later. I didn't divert my gaze, staring her down until she finally capitulated. "Yes, sir," she spit out.

"Good." I released her wrists, almost expecting her to take a swing at me. When she didn't, I took hold of the bottom of her blouse and raised it, lifting it up and over her head. Her flat stomach was wonderfully appealing, accented by the silver navel piercing. I wistfully thought back to the days when my wife's stomach was the same way. I reached behind her, pulling her close, to unclasp her bra. She let it slide down and off her arms, allowing me to see the breasts I had long lusted after, especially on warm summer days at her mother's summer cottage.

"Take down your pants," I told her. She nodded and slid undid her button fly jeans, taking them off over her shapely hips, showing me the plain cotton panties beneath. These were the kind of panties that a girl wears when her brother in law is coming over to talk about birthday presents for her sister, they weren't the scanty underwear one dons for a lover. I made note to tell her to wear better undies the next time I came over to fuck her.

I reached down to her plain underwear and felt the rise and fall of her labia. I wanted to feel the soft fur that lined them but a promise is a promise. Instead, I turned her around and pulled her panties down. Her ass looked delicious; completely creamy white and absolutely inviting. Moved her to her living room couch and bent her over it, not necessarily caring if she was comfortable.

I had been hard from the moment I entered the room, knowing what was to come. I let my pants fall to the floor, spit in my hand, and began slicking my dick. I thought briefly about using a condom but didn't want to take the time to dig one out, nor did I want to go without leaving her something to remember me by.

I spread her cheeks and I hear her gasp. I placed the head of my dick against her opening and pushed, waiting for her to open up to me and give me entrance. Finally, she did and I savored the sensation of her muscles working against me, feeling the heat from deep inside of her. She moaned, more from pain than pleasure. I held on to ass, one hand on each cheek, slightly pulling her apart while pushing into her. Feeling her body give in; making it accept my girth as I entered her deeply.

"This is what I wanted," I said to her. "This is all I've wanted from you since the day we met. Do you remember that day? Do you remember the cute little skirt you wore? The way you bent over was divine. Ever since then, I've been dreaming of putting it to you like this. I even thought about it on my wedding night. When I came in Sarah, I was thinking about cumming in your ass, Anne. I've been fucking your ass for years, but only this time it's real, and, shit, it's so good. And, to think, I can have this whenever I want. Isn't that right?"

She squealed in anguish from the pain and from my words. I was balls deep inside of her, now, just feeling her spasm around me. Feeling her guts grasp and release at my cock like the violent intruder it hoped to expel. That fight was wonderful... It practically shot me out of her as I pulled back, and fought me twice as hard as I pushed back inside. I watched her hands grasp tight before spreading her fingers wide, her mouth gasping for air like a land-bound fish.

I began thrusting in and out, my body soon taking over, my eyes rolling back into my head as I neared the precipice. With one last grasp from her ass, I began cumming long and loudly inside of her. It was better than I had ever imagined it could be. Her ass practically coaxed every last drop of satisfaction from me before pushing me back out again, leaving her with my milky white fluid dripping down her thighs.

I left the room to clean up, leaving her laying over the arm of the couch, sobs wracking her body. I couldn't help but laugh when I saw that crying was pushing out a flood of my cum. I almost grabbed a washcloth to wiper it away but decided against it. I wanted her to know where she stood with me or, rather, where she lay.

When I came back from the bathroom, she was huddled up on the couch, still naked. I stood at the door and gave her one final look. Even in such a state, I admired the shape of her body and looked forward to the next time I would take advantage of her.

Another Possible Cover Image

Or perhaps this would be better for the back cover. Get it? Yee haw.

May 26, 2008

Possible Cover Image

I had a great photo shoot this weekend where I got some pix for the upcoming Prurient Interests book (which I'm thinking of calling "Freedom is Slavery"). I was intending to do this but I think I may have snapped the shot that I'm going to use for a cover image. The jury is still out.

May 19, 2008

Cerebral Trainee Subject: Susan Part 2

Sexy Robot

I don't think I took Susan for granted. I always appreciated coming home at the end of a long day at the firm to find her at her assigned post, my dinner in the warmer next to her head. As instructed, she was bent over the dinner table, legs spread, ready for me if I chose to fuck her. While dinner smelled and looked delicious, she was even more enticing.

I decided to use her ass, enjoying the look of my cock going inside of her. Pants down around my knees, I entered her quickly. The mechanizations made a sound like a gasp and I felt the internal machinations working on me to provide even more pleasure.


Master had been experimenting at anal sex for the past fourteen months. This was challenging at first, maintaining the proper amount of lubrication and tension to give him maximum pleasure. We were warned during CETS training that our behinds would be used far more than our traditional "sex parts." This thrilled me to no end. The contract promised that I could be used twenty-four hours a day for five years and this just added to the debasement I craved.

My knees, bent slightly, moved up and down to give better motion against Master as he fucked me. My internal sensors measured his heartbeat, blood pressure, and breathing pattern. Once it reached the proper amount I would begin adding an extra 2 psi of pressure to squeeze him to orgasm. The temperature of my bottom raised an extra degree, warming he and his hands as they clung to my dermal layer.

He began thrusting harder. His cock increased in diameter and my bottom decreased to match, doubling the pressure on him, bringing him to orgasm.

My ears were filled with the sound of a loud beeping. Something was seriously wrong! I felt my knees give way and I collapsed onto the ground, my head thunking against the corner of the table. The world went black.


I panicked. The sound of her servos suddenly got very loud. Though I kept her well lubricated, I had heard that the joints on a CETS DS had been prone to failure. The sight of her laying crumpled at my feet was pathetic, made more so as my cum dripped onto her backside. I commanded her to perform a self-diagnostic. She was unresponsive. I got down on the floor and turned her over. There was a dent in her head that didn't look good. I opened up her chassis and began feeling for the reset switch. I remembered learning about this during training as it was of crucial importance.

In the past some CETS units had experienced cyberdelusions which warped their programs, creating mock "personalities" which were outside of predetermined protocols. The reset was supposed to clear out their system through a 30 joule electric pulse that essentially "put their mind right," resetting their program. We were discouraged to use the reset button as it brought about unpleasant responses from the units. They went into fits, looking like the scenes from spools they showed in MedT classes of the barbaric days of EST.

My fingers were probing her inner workings and I prayed that I didn't upset any of her circuitry. I wondered how deep I had to reach. I brushed against something that felt particularly warm and almost soft. It must have been insulation but almost felt like skin.

Suddenly she stirred and I silently breathed a sigh of relief. I probably wouldn't have to reset her after all. That would have most likely have required a reprogramming of nearly everything I'd taught her in the last week since her back-up.

It's funny, but I didn't think I could get this attached to a thing; a robot, but I found that I was cradling her in my arms like she was a sick child. I placed her back down on the floor and sent a missive to CETS to get her in for immediate repairs.


When Master touched me, it brought me back from the dream I was having. I felt like Sleeping Beauty being kissed by her prince. I didn't entertain any fantasy about romance. I knew my place. I just hadn't been touched by anyone in almost two years. That was about to change, radically, once I arrived at the CETS EngFac.

We were greeted by one of the CETS X7s. I could tell by the large chassis and overmodulated voice. It sounded ultrafemme, belying that a male lay hidden under the female dermis. I had experienced one of these at a party Master had taken me to a few months before.

Master usually seemed to abide by the law. I was surprised, then, when he took me to a Christmas Party.

My mother had told me about Christmas and this didn't seem like what she had described. There was no tree; instead there was a pair of CETS units engaged in intercourse in the middle of the room while wrapped up in tiny colored lights.

This wasn't the first time that Master had me engage with another unit but definitely one of the most public events (to that point). Master utilized me as a party favor for his boss's favorite unit, a CETS X7; part of the Lola line.

When interfacing with another CETS, Owners enjoy the illusion of robotic harmony. Often I switch all manual controls off and, once I'm plugged into the other unit, simply follow along with one of the preprogrammed scenarios. The engineers at CETS had equipped all of us with a core group of 26896 components with which our internal processors could negotiate any manner of programs. These components were also upgraded and increases on occasion during periods of daily maintenance.

The Lola didn't respond to my protocols. I pinged it again. Nothing. A message came across, "No Preprogrammed Scenarios Accepted. Improvisation Required."

"Affirmed. Initiate intercourse."

We danced. We entered each others' arms and began the slow perfunctory steps, our mouths engaging. It was bliss. Master may be a considerate Owner but he treats me for what I am; a (living) CETS doll. He's never been sadistic but he's never treated me like a human, either. This Lola unit, though sold as a female, was taking me like a man with his lover. My own pulse rate had increased 15 percent and my hormone count had gone up so much that I knew it would be flagged back at the CETS relay station. My vagina was producing real secretions, not synthetic. I felt her invade me with two fingers while her tongue still explored my mouth. My legs parted wider and my servos went from whirring gears to sounding like a pleasant purr.

"You may have to take your Susan in for an overhaul once my Lola gets done with her," I heard Master's boss say as Lola laid me out on the central dais. She straddled my head with her legs and I experienced my first Lola unit. The key difference between she and I lay in the way her authentic sexual organs were covered by the dermic layer. Inside of the unit's labia lay the underside of the CETS's penis. What doubled as a clitoris was tied directly to the sensitive spot under the head of his penis. Of course, everything looked female and responded just as my equipment did. It was a fascinating answer to allowing men to serve as female-outfitted units.

I locked my lips onto her clit and began licking. I employed the vibrating tip, varying the speed and intensity randomly. Meanwhile, she did the same on me, bending over and applying her tongue to my clitoris. I could tell that she wasn't running any kind of program. She was on full manual. The lubricant across her tongue slicked me up, allowing her ease of entry with her fingers again. One slid into my vagina, the other into my behind. Immediately she began pistoning deep into me, one retracting while the other extended over and over again with mechanical precision, further contrasting her tongue's organic rhythm on my clit.

Following her lead, I turned everything over to manual control as I licked her. This change of intensity and speed threw her into a new fury of activity. Her legs clenched my head, blocking my audio sensors as she began to emit a high-whining howl. Her fingers began increasing in diameter, filling me up and triggering the sequences that threw my body into an electronic orgasm. I began beeping loudly, my servo whirring like mad.


Sexy Robot

I was shown to a plush lounge, only fitting for CETS owners, and awaited the initial estimates on Susan. Various other CETS units were present for pleasure and service. One particularly caught my eye, a very small unit that I had only seen in the company's optic catalog, a CETS UA16. A slight creation, she looked incredibly delicate. Had I not known that her chassis was enforced with an adamantium alloy I would have thought she were made out of tissue paper.

The CETS CustRep came in to inform me of Susan's condition. She required an over haul on her joints that would take at least twelve hours. "We understand that you shouldn't be without a unit during that duration. Might we interest you in a loaner?"

"Yes, I'd like to try that one," I said, indicating the UA16. A strange look crossed his face and I sensed that he was hesitant to let her go.

"Um, sir, that unit is still in Beta mode. We have yet to release it to the public, you understand--"

"That's perfect. I'd be more than happy to beta test for you over the next two days while my DS is in the shop. It sounds perfect. Thank you for offering!" I stood up and shook his hand, leaving his jaw working slightly.


Returning to the CETS shop after two years felt a bit like a homecoming. I was dollied in through the familiar corridors. The faces of the technicians all registered. Of course, none of them recognized me. I was just another CETS DS. They'd seen thousands come through since our inception date and we all looked similar apart from the modifications made for our Masters.

They wheeled me into a repair room.

It was a horrorshow.

There were the regular repair jobs, like me, but then there were units that had been broken either via accident or on purpose by their owners. These were ghastly creatures. The first I saw bore the distinct marks of an electrolash. It had been whipped so severely that the unit's carapace had split from shoulder to bottom. Torn wires seemed to spring from the wound like a frozen splatter of blood.

Other units had limbs bent in unnatural positions, or removed completely. A few were impaled on objects. One poor X9 was missing her entire lower jaw. These were the dangers we were warned before we signed our lives away to CETS for our contracts. I was prepared for something like this to happen to me, but never thought I'd see the results presented so matter-of-factly. If it were still possible, a shiver would have run down my spine.

As it was, I used my focal enhancers to take in as much as I could. Incapacitated, I was stuck in a corner awaiting a technician. I was seated next to a MA42 (commonly called a "Mom-ocon"). She looked at me with her one good eye and offered a connection patch. I interfaced with her.

"Inquiry: How long have you been here?"

"Response: One day."

"Inquiry: What happened to your eye?"

"Response: I fell."

"Inquiry: T/F?"

"Response: F - Preprogrammed Reply"

"Statement: Roger."

I wished every CETS doll was owned by people as nice as my Master.

To my other side was a relatively new unit, a UA16. They were incredibly anthropomorphized, bereft of much of thee extra hardware that marked most CETS units. The UA line was the first that were made for AnthroWear, heavy duty casings that resembled clothes. This provided the Company with another source of income and gave the UAs more "personality." That's what seemed to be the problem with this particular Robin. In clipped, terse exchange she told me that every time she exhibited any kind of the Defiance/Rebellion programs with which she was integrated that her owner reset her, feeling it was a bug. Her Master wanted no personality; something counter to the UAs selling point! This particular Robin was undergoing robopsychosis and had even begun disassembling herself during daily maintenance.

Out of the gloom I saw the outline of one of the rarest CETS line. It moved toward me and I strained to capture every angle, figuring it would ambulate past me before becoming a distant memory. Instead, it stopped right in front of me and indicated that I was to open my legs. I complied, wondering what it would be like to interface with CETS XY9, one of their few male-equipped CETS units.


The UA16 came with a clothes locker full of outfits. She was definitely more maintenance than Susan. She was definitely more... coy. And, unlike Susan, I had to practically talk her into getting onto her knees and servicing my needs.


The outer shell of the CETS XY9 was scarred and scratched as if it had been in battle. This added a rugged quality that was almost enough to initiate my programs on their own. What really triggered me was interfacing with the unit. He had a soft edge to his queries and responses that made me wonder if it was actually a biofemme inside of the male chassis.


The logic matrix of the UA16 was at once sophisticated and simplistic. I ran a series of queries against it, learning its strange series of conditionals that allowed to me to "seduce" this "innocent" unit. I engaged her with the promise that what I held inside of me tasted yummy and that I'd be willing to share. She'd simply have to suck it out.

Her smaller mouth provided more tension when she sucked my cock. Her "hair" was in a pigtail configuration which also served as handles I could use to direct and guide her as she moved her head up and down on my lap.


The XY9 was between my legs, its sex tool fully engaged. Through its porous outer covering it expelled lubricant. My olfactory sensors diffused it as pineapple-scented, a definite add-on to the model's base package.

He grabbed my broken legs and pulled me forward, up and onto him, penetrating my sexual orifice with inhuman skill. He held onto me tightly while his cock pistoned in and out of me, filling me, fitting me perfectly as a bolt fits a nut.


I had the little UA16 stand up and give me access to her pussy. The unit was well built; intelligent enough to have already pre-moistened her opening to indicate readiness and excitement. I told the UA16 that her mouth wasn't doing the trick and that I needed her to turn around and get onto my lap to help.

Her pussy was wonderfully form-fitting and seemed even tighter than Susan's. I'd have to have the technicians adjust her to provide the same delightful sensation I experienced while the UA16 bounced her perky ass off of my lap.


He pounded me, jackhammering me with his cock. My thighs clutched at his sides, my arms wrapped around his back. In the workroom I felt safe to express myself, turning off my safety protocols and moaning with abandon. Images of us in our sexual embrace filled my sensors from every broadcasting cam in the room, creating a mental montage that practically overloaded my circuits. I felt a diode switch, putting me into orgasm mode and flooding my system with pleasure.


I felt her pussy lock down on my cock; internal motors took over the action of manipulating my pleasure. The UA16 began shaking and shuddering, a low wail emanating from the many speakers around her body, creating a symphony of pleasure as she went into O-Mode. Usually the CETS units wait to initiate until after their owners trigger. Perhaps since this one wasn't mine… Regardless… this extra motion and her mechanized lows put me over the edge.


Our systems synchronized and the XY9 climaxed as well, injecting my innards with synthspunk, a quick-dissolving substance whose residue should only act as internal lubricant until my next maintenance cycle removed it.


Sexy Robot

The UA16 looked like a young girl and was programmed to act accordingly, maddeningly so at times. When not engaged in intercourse, her speakers emitted a steady stream of chatter with audio programs running unsynched from one speaker to another making her sound like a busy turbo station. When I finally disengaged her audio out, the unit went into a lull that I would describe as "pouting" if I had to put a word to it. Worse, she didn't have the proper housekeeping programs installed. There were no domestic tasks in her matrix. I vowed to be up early to get to the EngFac, as long as the UA16 had a proper working chronometer.


I interfaced with the XY9 three more times that night. I had to run an emergency maintenance in the morning before the techs came in and diagnosed me as having an excess of synthspunk in my vaginal cavity.

The XY9 kept many of his pathways isolated, though I learned that he had been at EngFac for a while as he was being reprogrammed from HeS to HoS, a rarity amongst the CETS but certainly something not unheard of. Most units were required to undergo at a required rewrite for BiS but Hes to HoS (or vice-versa) was a radical procedure generally frowned upon by the CETS volunteers. Judging from our interface sessions, the XY9 had a number of bugs still remaining.

Fortunately, the issue with my knees simply required installation of replacement parts and not Med overhaul. Too many of the EngFac tech area were in need of internal repairs which could put them out of commission if not compatible with their exoshells.


Three hours late, I arrived back at CETS EngFac, more anxious than ever to get my Susan back. The UA16 had worn out her welcome. I debriefed with the CETS CustRep, giving a full report about my brief Beta test. He made a few notes and placed sent a missive before taking me into the greeting area where some customers are first introduced to their CETS units.

They wheeled Susan out to the showroom, she was a sight for sore eyes. The tech activated her, going over the repairs and running her through a diagnostic cycle to show that her joints had all been replaced under warranty. The tech and CustRep excused themselves, leaving Susan and I alone.


I didn't realize just how much I missed Master until I saw him waiting for me in the plush showroom. My system indicated a ten percent increase in heartrate and two degree temperature fluctuation. I also began producing system lubricant via an autonomic reaction. After running through my paces, the tech and CustRep gave us privacy, a sign of respect to Master's status.

He gave me a number of commands, proving out my new joints and putting me into rather provocative positions. I engaged my servos with extra flair, giving him a cybersexy show. I felt his hands move across my dermal layer, firing off multiprocessors throughout my system.

"Show me your latest modification," he commanded. Compliantly I positioned myself on all fours, spreading my legs wide and giving him plenty of access to my retooled cavity.


The only good thing about the UA16 was her pussy, featuring the best in CETS technology. The CustRep had Susan retrofitted with a comparable unit before giving her back to me. The difference was immediately apparent. She positively crackled with energy, her pussy humming around my cock when I entered her. She latched on, arched her back, and the whir of machinery gave off the signature feline purr that made the CETS DS famous.


My circuits were firing, lighting me up like the "Christmas Tree" at Master's party. He had never felt so good inside of me before. I ran a series of programs, layering them on one another in such a way that my chassis vibrated with activity. I ran several scenarios; working calculations for optimum pleasure. My vaginal excretions were increased ten percent, mixing in a stimulant at two parts per billion and a blend of endorphins at four parts per billion. When contacting Master's skin, this sent his biorhythms into the red.


I gasped, desperate for breath, as she bucked and fucked with as much vigor as the offworld sluts on Ceres. It almost felt like her battery was leaking juice as she electrified me, every hair stood on end.


I set a countdown, anticipating the moment that I could bring him to climax, gradually increasing pressure and friction until he passed the point of no return. The trigger step was imminent. My vox processors mewled, "Yes, Master, please fuck me." The countdown completed and Master began his climax.


Her pussy massaged ever last ounce of pleasure from my body. I collapsed onto her, my heart still racing. She lowered herself to the floor and I felt her internals move into gear, sending slight vibrations through me to massage and soothe. It was good to have Susan back again.

Sexy Robot

May 18, 2008

Fairuza and her Beautiful Mouth

Such A Mama's Boy

“Good morning, Michael. It’s time to get up, sleepyhead. It’s nearly 9 o’clock.”
“Sorry, Mama, I’ve just been so sleepy lately.”
“It’s okay, honey. You’re a growing boy. It’s to be expected. Here, I brought you a glass of milk.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you noticed all the changes that your body has been going through?”
“Yes, Mama, it’s pretty strange.”
“I bet! Tell me, Michael, has your penis been acting funny? It’s okay, you can tell me.”
“Yes, Mama, it has.”
“What does it do? Does it get stiff?”
“Yes, Mama. It does. And at the strangest times.”
“Oh! Do tell. Tell me when it gets that way.”
“It got that way at school the other day when Mrs. Beaton dropped her eraser and bent over to get it. I’m not sure what that means, Mama.”
(Laughs) “It’s okay, honey. That’s natural. Just because it gets stiff doesn’t mean anything, honey. Do you ever do anything to it when it’s stiff?”
“Yes, Mama. It feels good when I rub it.”
“Michael, I want you to show me how you do that. Mama wants to see.”
“Are you sure, Mama? I feel funny showing you my penis.”
“It’s okay, Michael. I’ve seen it before. I only want to help.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“That’s very nice. It looks very good when it’s stiff, or hard, like that. What do you think got it hard now?”
“I don’t know Mama. Should I rub it now?”
“Yes, Michael. Oh, that’s very nice. However, I think Mama can show you a way to make it feel even better. Would you like that?”
“Oh! Yes, Mama.”
“Here, let me wrap my fingers around it this way and then stroke it a bit. There, now, doesn’t that feel better?”
“Yes, Mama. Oh, it feels so good.”
“Good. When you rub it, what do you think about?”
“Mama, it’s the strangest thing. I get little pictures in my head of things and people.”
“Like what? Like who?”
“Well, Mrs. Beaton, Aimee – my friend from school, and sometimes even you, Mama.”
“Oh really? What am I doing in those little pictures?”
“I think of what you look like when you come out of the shower, Mama.”
“Ahhh. You like that? Good. Does this still feel nice?”
“Oh, yes, Mama. It feels so good.”
“Good. Ladies can make men feel good this way. Would you like to learn how men make Ladies feel nice? Would you like to make Mama feel nice and be her good boy?”
“Yes, Mama. I’d like to know.”
“Okay, I just need to open my robe. Is this how you picture me when you’re touching your penis?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“You like Mama’s naked body? Her big breasts?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Good. That’s a good boy. I’m going to give you more to think about in a few minutes here. Now, get out of bed and get on the floor. On your knees. I’m going to sit here at the edge of the bed and you’re going to get to look at and taste Mama’s vagina.”
“Mama, I never knew what women looked like down there.”
“That’s right… you’ve only looked at Mama’s breasts and Mrs. Beaton’s ass. Here, look at Mama’s ass.”
“Oh, it’s so nice and rounded.”
“And, look here… Look at Mama’s pretty asshole. Now, before I let you lick my vagina, I’m going to have you practice a bit by licking here. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Good. Now, take your tongue and lick around here. That’s good. That’s very good. Now, push your tongue into me a bit. In and out and back in again. Push it in as deep as you can.”