Mommy Teaches Son: Red Hot Taboo Stories for the Initiated

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On those weekends where I was displaced from my home, my mother graciously offered to allow me to return to the home of my youth. It was a wonderful, miserable proposition. She began walking again. Her gait seemed to be improving as we neared the house. “I was thinking about something. I kind of like this anonymity thing. I can tell from your costume you are well put together and I’m about as horny as I can ever remember being. How about you come inside and help me with that?”

Liz’s dad had had an affair 50 years previously, which resulted in a daughter. Liz and her brothers had a half-sister. As in date? They had to be kidding. Not only was I a 29-year-old single mom with dishes in the sink and baby clothes with stains I'd never actually scrub out, but I breastfed "on demand." How in the world could I even think about hooking up with some hot man when my cha-chas were making milk? I wish I had known what my mum went through. I wish I had a greater understanding of the illness, what it did to her. We didn’t know what we might unearth, particularly when my mother was alive, and we don’t know what [the half-sister] had been told. We might potentially upset her a lot as well, because we don’t know what she has been told about her parenthood. Fortunately I love baseball and exploring new places, and Rory and I have similar tastes in music, culture, humor and food, so conversation comes easy, and I figured it wouldn't be hard to negotiate non-baseball activities. If we weren't related, we'd be ideal traveling companions.Once I understood that dynamic, I was determined to catch myself in the act of dismissing him, and one city at a time got better at letting him make the calls. It wasn't easy, but it was necessary. And on the rare miscue, his map-reading skills and innate sense of direction always got us out of the situation. Come partake in these 150 stories of hot, filthy EROTIC action! A collection of stories so naughty, your hands will be wandering in no time... Sometimes it’s a silent one, not because they are unafraid, but because they are confused, unaware, and simply just don’t know any better. Image Credit: Huffington Post

I was aware it was something I shouldn’t talk about. Without saying, ‘you must keep this a secret’, I knew that you must keep it a secret. The following Friday, after enlisting another girlfriend to baby-sit, I dashed out the door to meet the lawyer at a bar. When I got inside, he waved. I didn't see the cuteness -- he had a receding hairline -- but maybe I was too nervous. You are a hero. Sorry for the mundane bra and panties. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be seeing them tonight.” This story starts when my parents drop me off at my uncle Jim’s house, on the way to the hospital where my little sister is about to be born. I am six years old. I wear yoga pants, but I hate yoga. I know I’m not alone but I take yoga pants wearing to shameful new levels. I buy yoga pants with the precision and meticulous research normal people save for purchasing their first home. They’ve got to have the right cut, stretchy fabric, and some sort of stomach panel.Read and experiences the adventures of the submissive stunning females as they submit every inch of their breathtaking bodies, relinquishing control of their most intimate part……..……..to multiple men!!