Sequel to my October 21, 2017 story.
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While I was cured of my ravaging fantasies – not only did they no longer interfere with my life, I never even had any at all – as a result of the ravaging reality that I was sure had been arranged by my misguided though probably well-meaning psychologist Mary Ross, I continued to be intrigued by the likelihood that two men that I knew had been participants. For some strange reason that only intrigued me; it didn't disturb me. If in fact the ravagers were guys that I knew, while I had several candidates for the guy with the regular sized dick, there was only one candidate for the horse cock – my daughter Sybil's boyfriend, Brent Lebel.
The ravaging reality, despite my initial irritation with Mary for setting it up, had no lasting adverse impact on me. In fact, I do believe that my already great relationship with my husband Jim got even better – and our already excellent sex life was also enhanced.
While I would have been interested in Brent's perspective on why he participated in the ravaging – if in fact he had – since he was Sybil's ex-boyfriend at the time of the ravaging in July, 2015 I did not consider it a betrayal of Sybil. Since Brent was polite, handsome, industrious, educated, and solicitous of both Sybil and me, my suspicion was not a realistic reason in late summer of 2017 to object to his renewed relationship with Sybil, or even after I started to suspect him in October, 2017.
Sybil and Brent became very close, and serious, once they renewed their relationship in 2017 two years after my ravaging reality. They got along great; so great that in October, 2018 they married. I couldn't have been happier for Sybil. She looked so beautiful and happy in her wedding dress, and Brent looked to be the epitome of a handsome groom. One unusual thing – it was not disturbing in any way, just interesting – was that Brent never, ever referred to me as his "mother-in-law," or never called me anything but "Amy." If he introduced me to people that I hadn't met he referred to me as his "friend, Amy." If I introduced him, I never called him my "son-in-law" but "Sybil's husband, Brent."
I never had a cross word with Brent, and on several occasions both he and Sybil individually expressed to me how pleased they were that Brent and I got along so well, and that I never interfered in their business but provided any advice or help that they needed.
Things went smoothly until about October, 2021. At that time Brent and Sybil were 25 and I was 49, although to be honest I felt as good as I ever had, and since I had cut back on work and increased my exercise regime, I thought that I looked better too. Brent often told Sybil in my presence that he hoped that she looked as good as I did when she was my age.
Around October, 2021 two things happened that were significant; Sybil announced that she was pregnant, which was welcome news to everyone in the family; and Jim got promoted, which was both good and bad news. While we had no monetary worries – one of the reasons I cut back at work – Jim was very goal oriented and was really pleased with the promotion. The bad thing about the promotion – for the first time in our married life he would have to travel significantly over the next year. Sometimes he would be gone as long as 10 days.
After a few months I was adjusting to Jim's travel, including by seeing Sybil and Brent at least a couple of times a week, when I got a call from a panicked Brent that Sybil had collapsed at work. At that point she was more than five months pregnant. Unlike me – who had no issues whatsoever in my two pregnancies, in fact I felt great during them – Sybil was not having a good time. The doctor recommended bed rest for the next three months until the baby was delivered, with only carefully monitored exercise.
While both Brent and Sybil had good jobs and were doing well financially for a mid-twenties couple, this was obviously going to put a strain on them. Jim and I suggested that they put most of the stuff from their apartment in storage and come to live in our very large house. Our son Jason was away at college – in his senior year – and we had plenty of room. In fact, we had a large sound-proof room on the first floor that was easily converted into a bedroom, with its own full bathroom. The other four large bedrooms were on the second floor.
Brent and Sybil were not hard to convince, especially since they had a month-to-month lease. They had saved enough money for a small house once the complications with the pregnancy were over if those complications didn't wipe out the savings. We arranged it so that we had a licensed practical nurse with Sybil during most weekdays, and either Brent or I was with her on late afternoons or evenings, and both of us were usually with her on weekends. When Jim was in town he did his share. We always were hospitable to friends or relatives dropping by to see Sybil; and one of the nurse, Brent, or me would do the twice daily limited exercises with Sybil that she was encouraged to do by her doctor. Brent or I would help her to the kitchen or dining room table for at least breakfast and dinner.
Things worked smoothly until Wednesday January 19, 2022. I had tucked Sybil into bed because Brent was coming back very late from out of town either that night or the next morning, and Jim wouldn't be back until the next week. I never heard Brent – who obviously had his own key – come in. When I woke up in the middle of the night I decided to check on Sybil. She looked fine – but I heard a noise coming from the bathroom in the downstairs bedroom, and curiosity got the best of me and I poked my head in the door. There was Brent, completely naked, masturbating as quietly as he could. I wasn't surprised by this because the doctor had effectively cut him off from sex with Sybil several months earlier (something that Sybil complained about to me on several occasions) so he had to be horny.
Fortunately Brent had his eyes closed, so I didn't think that he saw me. If he hadn't had his eyes closed he certainly would have, because I looked at him significantly longer than I should have. His extremely thick cock, and his large low-hanging balls, were fascinating. By the time that I quietly closed the door and started back to my room two things were clear – the first one 95% so, the second one 100%.
The 95% one – he owned the big dick that had ravaged me in July, 2015, and the big set of testicles that I uncontrollably fondled when I was blindfolded and forced to suck his cock.
The 100% one – my pussy needed immediate attention.
I hurriedly went back to my room and started playing with my clit, and stuck a small dildo up my pussy. Even if it hadn't been a week since I had sex with Jim the sight of Brent stroking his big cock while his balls swung back and forth would have been enough to put me over the edge. Disturbingly I was fantasizing that I was fucking Brent as I feverishly worked on my clit.
As I was close to release, I sensed something and opened my eyes. In the muted light of my small bedside lamp I saw a naked figure a few feet from my bed. The stiff thick cock pointing toward me left no doubt that it was Brent. Incredibly the fact that he was there didn't stop me from masturbating – it even encouraged me further. Within twenty seconds after I started staring at his rigid dick I had a massive orgasm – as debilitating as any I had ever had from pleasuring myself.
I closed my eyes and moaned, removed my hand from my clit, and withdrew the dildo from my pussy. It was a while before I was fully cognizant, but when I opened my eyes again, Brent was sitting on the side of the bed next to me. He gently turned my face toward him.
"Nice job, Amy! Who were you thinking of when you had that over-the-top orgasm. It was almost as intense as some of the orgasms you had when I participated in ravaging you in July, 2015," Brent said, not with a snicker, but with a lustful expression on his face.
Well that now changed from 95% to 100% the probability that he had fucked me in 2015. That realization had no negative impact on me although you would think that the average woman would be mortified to find out that her son-in-law had fucked her. "Brent – you shouldn't be here," I mumbled, in a semi-trance.
"Oh, but I should be, Amy. I've always had the hots for you, and ravaging you was, before tonight, the best experience of my life. Tonight things will be even better now that I know that you fantasize about me," he half-snarled.
"No, Brent – it would be so wrong..." was all I got out before he opened my naked thighs and stuck his tongue into my soaking wet pussy. I continued to say "no, no, no..." while weakly trying to push his head away from my crotch, every salvo of "nos" getting less convincing.
I was almost ready to climax again when he swung his crotch over my head and his low hanging ball sac dropped to within an inch of my face, while he continued tonguing my pussy and clit. That should have been the opportunity for me to get him off of me. Instead, I leaned up and took his balls into my mouth and hands like I was a starving woman and they were a nourishing meal.
The combination of Brent's tongue and fingers on and in my pussy, and the stimulation of his wonderful testicles, soon had me screaming in orgasm. Hopefully the scream was muted enough that sleeping Sybil downstairs couldn't have heard it.
By the time that the scream had dissipated Brent had swung around again, had lifted my calves onto his shoulders, and his thick cock was pushing at the entrance to my snug pussy. He penetrated inch-by-inch while simultaneously mauling my tits with his hands. I kept chanting "no, no, no," although I secretly knew that the last thing that I wanted was for him to stop.
Eventually his girthy meat filled my anxious pussy. Once that happened all my futile and insincere attempts to stop him subsided, and once he started stroking I started bucking back while simultaneously squeezing and releasing my pc muscles with crazed fury.
We didn't last long. After no more than a couple dozen strokes he was blasting the inside of my pussy with spurt after spurt of his man cream while I writhed around in ecstasy. When what was likely the longest continuous orgasm of my life finally subsided, I had dissolved into a limp pool of protoplasm, and he had been rendered an immobile grunting object, inert except for an occasional twitch due to an orgasmic aftershock.
I don't even remember Brent rolling off of me and consciously drifting off to sleep. However I do remember sometime before the next morning being lifted into doggy position and then that massive stiff weapon between Brent's legs penetrating my abused kitty again, and dissolving into another orgasm as he discharged many more salvos into its deepest recesses.
