A word about Pornography:
Porno stories are like fight stories (the author of the Conan books, Robert E Howard, had an excellent volume of fight stories. The thing is that these types of stories are especially derivative. There are, quite simply put, only so many ways to describe fighting or fucking.
And with porno, it is even more difficult - it is not read for fiction in the general sense, but to accomplish a certain specific goal, that being the achievement of an orgasm. So as readers we look for the small gems that we find, and as writers we try to explore the subtle differences. Usually, with the written word or with videos, I comb through a large amount of work, much of it quite good, to find that certain specific story or video that satiates my appetite.
So yes, the story will begin soon, and those of you who know me know that I write in this vein. I am well aware that these stories are repetitive, but I think some are better than others - and I hope this one captivates you, at least for a brief period of time! Good reading, dear folks, and my most sincere wishes for good, quality orgasms!
CHAPTER FIVE - CATHY GOES A COUNSELING
Cathy Modeno was halfway through the day when John Simmons and has son Brian came into the comfortable little room. She was spending the day counseling, acting as the good preachers wife, and had looked forward to a day without event or excitement.
Both John and Brian were tall, the father a bit more muscular and with a goatee, the son lean and clean-shaven with close shorn hair. Both were several inches over six feet tall, and were dressed in rather rough work clothes. Unknown to her, the two men had seen her come to the shelter, and had quickly devised a story for themselves.
Cathy was dressed in a one piece, soft knit dress that buttoned up the front; it hugged her breasts tightly, showing off a good amount of cleavage, and the straps of the dress were thin enough so that the straps of her pink bra were visible.
It hugged her lush hips and ass as well; she had to wear a thong to keep panty lines from showing, and it was this that had caught father and sons eye as she bent into the back seat of her car to get her notebook and some other supplies.
She had gone with bare legs today, the dress was modest in that respect, coming to just over her knees when she sat down.
As well, she wore a stylish indoor jacket with the dress which buttoned all the way up to her slim neck and ending just above where her belly button would be. It hid the nature of the dress she wore, and she smiled to herself at how the two men would look at her could they see it.
Cathy blushed slightly as she showed the men to the couch - why had she thought that? She thought to herself, but did notice that the look in the men's eyes was - she blushed harder. The looks were assessing, from the father and son both. Even with the jacket on her figure could not really be disguised.
When the father, John, patted the couch between himself and his son Cathy reacted without thought, sitting down between the two tall, handsome men, and knowing as she did it that she shouldn't. Her stomach writhed softly.
"Well, what can I help you with today, guys?" Cathy said. She laid her pad down on the table in front of her, then straightened up, at a loss with what to do with her hands. She finally settled for resting them on the couch on either side of her. Her skirt had crept up several inches, and was showing off her lower thigh nicely. She told herself that it did not matter, that these men were here for help.
"Well, my son had some questions about his girlfriend, Mrs. Modeno," John said, smiling at her, and then said, "Are you hot? It looks like you're a bit flushed."
"Umm, no, no, I'm alright - well, it is a bit hot in here," she said softly, trailing off as he casually reached up and unfastened the top button of her dress jacket, just under the silky soft skin of her throat. His fingers dropped to the second button. "I . . . I really don't think you need to do that," Cathy smiled tremulously as the man's thick fingers toyed with the second button. She swallowed, but for some reason could not bring herself to push the man's hand away.
"Well, what was concerning you, Brian?" she asked, ignoring the fact that John was now slipping the second button open. Her jacket was starting to gape open - only five buttons held it - and the smooth skin of her upper chest was becoming visible.
"I was just wondering what - umm, you know, what appropriate touching between me and my girlfriend would be; we've been going out for a while now, and we're starting to kiss a little more deeply, and she likes me to feel her legs."
"Umm, what do you mean by that, Brian?" Cathy asked, totally ignoring the fact that John had now unfastened the third button, and that the top of the dress and her exposed cleavage were now on display. She had rolled her hands into fists, and was pressing them into the couch cushions in anger - couldn't John get the idea she did not want him to go any further? "I really don't think that's necessary," she told John again, and the two men shared a smile when she did not actually try to push his hands away from her jacket.
She was opening her mouth to tell him to stop again when John said, slipping open the fourth button, "Why don't you show her what you mean, son?"
"I . . . I don't think that's a good idea, Brian," she said - she tried feebly to push John's hands away again, but then he had succeeded in loosening her jacket completely. It fell open, revealing the tight thin dress clinging softly to her slightly rounded tummy and her large, heaving breasts. The edge of the bra was easily visible, as were her stiff, strawberry sized nipples.
"It really would help," Brian said; ignoring her tits, he looked her in the eye and slowly reached out, slipped his hand onto her leg just above the knee. "She likes it when I rub and squeeze her legs, Mrs. Modeno," he said softly, rubbing his hand down to the inside of her lower thigh; he slid his big, hot hand from her knee to about midthigh at the edge of her skirt.
"Umm, well, I guess that would be OK, Brian," she said, all to aware of the fact that her cantaloupe sized breasts straining against the thin dress were now attracting attention from both father and son.
"And how far up her legs can I slide my hands, Mrs. Modeno?" he asked, pushing his hand off of her knee again, up onto her lower shapely thigh. His thumb brushed the edge of her skirt this time, pushing it slightly higher.
