Right at the end of high school I started fucking a student teacher (former), that was 15 years older than *me*. How much had she ever done that was in them? Did she know I spent all that time beating off in her bed? I want to start off by asking her about those books. I want it to be on the phone, though, because I don't want her to see me masturbating until I'm ready. Send her an email, asking her a few vague questions, and suggest a time we can really talk? Wait until I can see her face to face? In the very vivid fantasy I had today, I totally faced envisioning what it would be like to talk to her about it. It would be ideal if I could find her online somewhere, or lure her into clicking on some spam, to soften her up. I've spent a while today trolling the local adult classifieds where she lives, which was tremendously exciting.
I want to get all of the repressed things never talked about in the family out on the table, and deal with it. Soon after that I was caught outside their door peeping - and again, she just pretended it never happened. I would have been probably in 8th grade then. The last one I discovered was "Taboo," which I watched mouth gaping. Needless to say a few of them found their way into my stash. This guy was into porn - he got unmarked brown envelopes each month from some porn club. This guy had a tiny cock, which I knew because I also found his penis extender while going through their stuff. There's more like this, leading up to my getting caught peeping on her fucking her husband - a guy 15 years younger. Later on, my mom walks in on me trying a couple things out with the neighbor kid my age, and just nervously backs out of the door.
I was quite the good reader, and had no doubt of what was going on, although a few things were hard to picture. I spent many a long afternoon while Mom was at class, laying on her bed and masturbating slowly while flipping through these books. And, her vibrator - a tasteless, 70s beige plastic bullet. I was about in 5th grade when I stumbled across those. In her bedside table were copies of the "Sleeping Beauty" BDSM novel by Anne Rice, some Anais Nin, and a couple of Nancy Friday's books. So, the long and short of it is that I trace most of this back to my mom - quite literally. More or less, everything Max Hardcore does, although I can do without the clown makeup. Not even talking elaborate Japanese rope bondage here - just whatever has the most large things being stuffed into holes that don't fit. And I'm realizing now, the only thing that gets me off anymore is the most degrading, male-dominant porn possible. I'm a 38-year old, bisexual male pervert, pretty well fully developed, run the gamut of doing the sex clubs, the swinging, the BDSM, the occasional streetwalker.
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