Prelude on "Exponential Lust"
I have to tell this story just as I have lived it and continue to live it. It's about a woman's lust, and yet more than lust -- and no one word will do in categorizing it.
To put it another way, it is lust multiplied and multiplied until it transcends itself and becomes something experienced but without a word to even connote it.
You may be wondering what might produce such "exponential lust," as I will call it.
Yet a savvy reader such as you yourself who visits this virtual place or place in virtual space, must have a conjecture in mind.
You may wonder: "Is the woman talking about discovering her sexuality after years of repression?"
Or: "Is she going to tell us about how several men took her,
initially
against her will, their massively erect organs filling every eager moist cavern of her hot and sweat-drenched body?"
But might it be something else, this instance of exponential lust?
Perhaps it is something in the interstices of conventional categories, something that, if it is given some typifying name, can only mislead? Might it be something that resists boundaries? (For instance, if an author may say so, might the misleading categories be those employed in this virtual place to locate this and other such stories in one and only one place?)
Whatever you think, read on dear savvy reader, because in only a paragraph-moment you will see that only this last conjecture faintly approaches what the author of this somewhat torrid tale will now try to convey in words.
As an experience -- as it has happened and is happening, lifting my life beyond anything I had known or even considered before -- it is
indescribably
delicious. At least to me!
You, my reader, are entitled to your own opinion.
Mother's Watcher
It all began on a quiet Saturday evening on an ordinary street in an ordinary suburb of one of those large urban places in the USA that teem with multitudes of people, some alone, some in pairs, others in crowds. We live on this street: my husband and I and our only child, our teenage son.
My husband had made us some drinks, put on some favorite background music, and dimmed the lights. I had completed my own preparations, wearing only that which I knew would produce the desired effect on my virile man: a lacy bra and panties, and, above all, the black spike-heeled shoes that accentuated my long and (I must say) very attractive legs. I was hot to trot!
My man was still the handsome, thoughtful person I had married. Partly because he was still attracted to me, I had made special efforts to keep my figure trim, and, although my bust had changed in the usual way after becoming a mother, I saw that Don – that's my husband – still found my pendulant breasts to be of erotic interest.
But it turned out that this particular Saturday evening would be different. In one respect, it was different in what seemed to be a totally innocent and insignificant way: Bobbie, our son, would be staying home instead of cavorting somewhere else with his buddies. So there would not be the usual house-to-ourselves situation on that Saturday evening. Still, Bobbie was in his room, door closed, watching his TV or whatever.
I didn't think about it one way or other as I left the bathroom, the warmth of the bath supplemented by my growing anticipation of Don's caresses.
The drink that Don had given me earlier had been a bit stronger than usual. And I had glimpsed a promising bulge in his shorts as Don had handed me the inviting drink with a big grin on his face. Perhaps that explains why I did not close the bedroom door as I entered that room to join him on our king size bed.
For a long time we kissed, at first gently and lovingly, and then with growing passion. I felt Don's knowing fingers on my back, and then my bra slipped off and soon I closed my eyes to enjoy the action of his lapping tongue and hot mouth on my now eager breasts. I let my hands play over his body as he did so, with a feathery touch over his still-covered but erect penis. I sensed its growth in size and urgency as I murmured encouraging words to show him how much I was enjoying the situation.
"Mmm, that feels so good Don, I love it," I whispered.
As he enthusiastically sucked and as my nimble fingers caressed his swollen hidden manhood, I heard a light creaking noise, the sound of a nearby door, I now realize. But at the time I was too absorbed in my sensual pleasure to respond to what that sound might signify.
