Last Love

This is not an Incest story, but would be considered Taboo by some.

Author note: I'm 76 and writing an autobiography that looks at how mental illness has affected my path in life. I am currently writing about my 54-year-old, 3rd husband, who you might know as Hubby77. We enjoy the erotic stories, and I wanted to share an excerpt about how our love affair started 37-years ago! Please note; if you have read (Twist Of The Knife!) by Hubby77, he loosely refers to this time in our lives and took a great deal of artistic license for his (fictional) story. This is my true account and it has been edited for Literotica. I changed the names to protect the guilty and added some "context." I hope you enjoy it or at least find it interesting.

****

To understand my point of view, you need a little background. In my early twenties, I was diagnosed with a disassociated personality or in more modern terms, dissociative identity disorder. Later in life, bipolar came into vogue and was added to my resume of mental problems.

I didn't become fully aware of my alter until I was going through puberty. My alter, would sneak out of the house without a care in the world, while I was scared to death my strict father would find out.

I was at the beach when my alter started flirting with a good looking young man. He couldn't remember my name and kept calling me, "Lori." My alter liked the name and took it as her own.

I got pregnant and married at sixteen, and by nineteen when the painful reality of losing my, two-and-a-half-year-old, first-born to a heart condition tore me apart, Lori seemed to have faded away. But then my first husband accused me of cheating on him. I hadn't, but Lori was having none of that and came back with a vengeance. I began to call her my evil twin!

To this day, Lori is still nineteen has no children and has never been married. She is an incessant flirt and sex addict and knows every man wants her! Lucky for me, my husband loves us both and wouldn't have it any other way.

It's not easy being married to a mentally ill person. I've had two failed marriages and jeopardized my present marriage several times. But now, with years of psychotherapy and proper pharmaceuticals, I'm in a relatively good place. That being said, nothing can completely control the bad days. Mental illness knows no boundaries and doesn't recognize social status, gender, or age.

Despite my issues, I have always been a hard-working woman. I obtained my high school equivalent and started college at twenty-nine. I majored in sociology with a minor in psychology while running rough-shod over three children, two cats, a dog, and my useless 2nd husband, and managed to graduate summa-cum-laude with my bachelor's at thirty-six. I have obviously left out a few hundred pages worth of details, and could have simply said, "I'm a sex addict on my third husband and bat-shit crazy!" But I wanted to give you a frame of reference as you read my excerpt.

Last Love.

Oh my God! What have I done! Did I really seduce another young man? I should just walk away. I'm smarter than this. I'm thirty-nine, and I should know better. He's not the first young man I have made fall in lust with me. I think he may be the last.

I have dated many men, but I like younger men because they don't play games with my head. They haven't been hurt so many times that they are afraid to love or give themselves to me completely. In the past, I would let them down gently and encourage them to find someone more age-appropriate. I don't think I will be able to do that with this one.

He is eighteen, and one of my son's best friends. Clint is over six feet tall and weighs all of 160 lbs. His hair is a bushy-wiry sandy brown, and his friends call him, "Brillo." I can't get my mind to quit fantasizing about what I want to do to him whenever I look into his beautiful eyes. They are a dark blue-gray with a double row of eyelashes that any woman would love to have! When he talks to me, he always looks so intense, so sincere, so innocent and needy. He reminds me of a lost puppy that I just want to rescue and take home with me.

Those eyes make me melt, but I can't let him know that. I must try to keep him seeing me as a mentor and confidant. But how can I do that when my nipples get hard every time he looks at my tits, and he is always looking at them! Or when I look at his crotch, and my panties get wet, imagining what is hidden in those tight jeans! Sometimes when I look at his crotch, I can see the outline of his cock. Maybe it's my imagination, but I think he wants me. Of course, he is young, so a stiff breeze would make him hard. Yum-Yum!

His hands are large, with long tapering fingers that make me believe he is sensitive. He holds my hand when he talks to me, and my hand is so small it is lost in his. He feels protective, and yet it is I who needs to protect him from me. I know if I take him to my bed, I will not be able to protect him from my never-ending lust. I want to see his hard cock. I want to feel those long fingers touching me. I want all of him, body and soul!

Like most children of divorce, he never felt like he belonged at either family home. But If I take him as my lover, I would give him all the love and affection he might have missed. I hesitate to do that to him, he needs to fall in love with someone his own-age, get a job, a mortgage, and have babies. I had a hysterectomy at thirty-six, and I'm still married to my second husband. But I need to be needed. I need to be loved! If I let myself, I could fall in love with him. He is so vulnerable, and so am I! I want him! Oh-fuck! I'm confused, scared, and hedonistic at the same time!

I know he hasn't had much experience with girls, but I don't know if he is a virgin or not. I know that when he dated one of my daughters for a very brief time, I heard a zipper going down in her room and called him out to the living room to lecture him on birth control and his responsibilities if he failed to use it. He was as upset as I was! I didn't think of him as a potential lover at that time. He later told me that he wasn't going to fuck her, he merely wanted to go down on her! I had no delusions about my daughter being sexually active, and thought what a lucky girl!

Young men have such great stamina! I am a woman who has never met a man that could satisfy me completely. A young man can keep trying until I cum or give up out of fatigue. I long to be sexually satisfied! More importantly, I long to be loved. To be a man's priority in life, to feel that I am important to someone. Sometimes I think that is an impossible dream. Some men have loved me, but most want to change me. He is so young, and I don't know how I can ask him for something no other man has been able or willing to give me.

What could I offer him in return? My body isn't young. I have born four children, and I am mentally unstable. On the other hand, I could offer him my sexual experience. No young woman could give him that. I could make him want me more than food or drink! I could mother him and smother him in my big tits! I could make him eat my pussy until I want to pass out! I could become his everything, a woman impossible to forget or to leave. Could I stand to do that to him? Hell-yes, says my evil twin!

Clint and my son, Eric, have been good friends since they were eleven. Clint always knew that my house was a safe place, and he could confide in me if he had a problem. He was just one of my kids, and as he got older, we had more frequent talks. Sometimes we discussed his girl problems, but he didn't seem to have any real girl problems since he hadn't had a serious relationship yet. I was able to learn a lot about his character, and we became good friends.

My house was a safe place for everyone. But there were some basic rules. My good friend and neighbor, Marilyn, was a regular fixture around the house, and we were the Housemothers. We kept the horde, that was all of my kids and their friends in line.

In the spring of 1982, Marilyn met a nice young man who would come around and do odd jobs for us. We called him 'Houseboy' and would pay him a few bucks or take it out in trade if we were horny! Sadly, after only a few weeks of being our Houseboy, he was arrested for being A.W.O.L.! Who knew?

Clint knew about our take it out in trade arrangement and thought he should have the now vacant Houseboy position. Marilyn and I decided it would be fun to toy with him, and told him he would have to be in training for a while to prove he could follow orders, and there would be no sexual benefits until he proved himself worthy. But we had no intention of following through because he was so young.

The very next week, I was weeding the strawberries when Clint came over to hang out. It was a warm sunny early summer day, and I was wearing a pair of blue and purple, satin short-shorts with a little colorful half bra. He saw me in the garden and, being ever hopeful, offered to help. I was happy to have him help, but I knew he wasn't just trying to be helpful. I do believe that naughty boy just wanted to look at my tits and round ass! He couldn't tear his eyes away, and I couldn't help but notice the outline in his blue jean shorts! I don't know how many weeds he pulled, but I'm sure it helped set the Booby Trap!

Clint had only been in training for a few weeks when, Pete, my husband went out of town for the weekend. It seemed that whenever Pete was out of town, word got around, and an impromptu party would ensue! My kids and all their friends had taken over the living room. I was standing in the kitchen, talking with a bunch of my friends when Clint came in from the living room and stood behind me. He listened to our adult conversation and, I'm sure, was hoping to be deemed worthy that night.

Marilyn was lamenting the loss of our Houseboy and tauntingly mentioned that the Houseboy position was still open. Then I reached behind my back, grabbed his hands, and placed them on my breasts as I said, "Well, if you cant be our Houseboy, you can be my living bra!" His hands were so big they completely covered my triple D boobs! My friends and I burst into laughter as he gingerly pulled his hands away, blushed delightfully, and walked out of the room.

Whenever my husband was at work, Marilyn would play the 'Bad Housemother' and send Clint to fetch us drinks, food, and just about anything else she could think of. I was the 'Good Housemother' and would have him help me with chores around the house. But, he wasn't trying to steal glances at my tit's anymore, he was overtly staring and grinning at me! I liked the attention. But I still had no intention of taking him to my bed. Sometimes he would pout and stomp his feet when given a command, and often wanted to know when his training period would be over. I would say, "Someday!"

He didn't believe I would ever do anything with him. But like a Pavlovian dog, he continued to be obedient. I began to tease him with sexual innuendos and would make jokes about his young age, then tell him he couldn't handle a real woman! I even started wearing more provocative clothes when he was around and was always giving him an eye-full of cleavage or bending over in front of him.

The more I teased him, the more I wanted him! I also began to appreciate his intelligence and sense of humor. I began to see him as a man instead of a boy. I thought he would make a pass at me someday, but as the summer went on, I could tell he was too afraid to try anything.

Because I had known him for so long, I could see the pain in his eyes when his maternal Grandfather passed away that summer. Clint's father worked two jobs and had very little time for him. His Grandfather was his primary male influence. This man had taught him how to work on cars, and I'm sure many other things about the world in general.

Much of Clint's expectations about sex and women, came from the adult magazines that he "borrowed" from his Grandfather and Dad. He believed that someday, a completely random woman was going to give him a blowjob in an elevator between floors! I'm sure he knew better, but he did get many of his kinky ideas from reading the forum letters in those magazines.

Clint had experienced some rejection from girls, as most young guys do, and he had some trust issues. He thought he was in love with anybody that paid attention to him. But young people are very fickle, and even my daughter had hurt him by seeing someone else behind his back. He wasn't really looking for a girlfriend that summer and seemed content partying with his friends, and playing his guitar. He did have his hands for his pleasure!

His eyes and manner of speaking showed me he was quite intelligent. He would ask questions and actually listen to the answers when we talked. Sometimes I would correct his pronunciation or grammar. But I knew Clint was dyslexic and struggled in school. During his grade school years, his paternal grandmother tutored him over the summer school breaks. He had always been good at math, and now he was reading above his grade level, but his spelling and writing were still atrocious!

That summer, my oldest daughter was in the Air force. My son was seriously dating a girl, and my younger daughter had no interest in Clint, beyond friendship. He was living with his mother over the summer, school break. But he hung out around my house most of the time, and it wasn't unusual for him to crash on the couch if the boys had been partying late. He always liked to sit and talk with me, and we had many serious and sometimes, not so serious discussions if my evil twin was being a tease! I didn't even realize I was falling in love with him.

You know what they say, "Most accidents happen within ten miles of home," and he was an accident waiting to happen. I knew I could seduce him, and he would probably fall in love, but I really didn't think I would fall in love with him. I kept telling myself it was just lust and friendship.

Then something happened to change all that! It was Saturday, the day before Halloween, and I was driving my youngest daughter to a friend's house when she cried out, "Mom, that car in the trees looks like Clint's!" My heart started to pound, and my hands were shaking as I turned the car around. It was a notoriously bad curve, and it looked like he had just crashed! His car was so mangled I feared he was badly hurt or worse! But he wasn't in his car, and I headed to his father's house in a panic!

I turned into the driveway just as Clint was getting out of a police cruiser. I ran to him, crying and trembling, and asked, "Are you all right?" He said he was fine. Somehow he had walked away with just some bumps and bruises, but I could tell he was really shaken up. All I could see was him, and I never even noticed his Father and stepmother standing in the yard. They must have thought I was some kind of crazy person. I had never met them, and I think Clint introduced me as Eric's Mom.

The next day, my son went to see Clint and his wrecked car. Clint told him that he had bruised his back more than he realized, and wasn't sure when he would be up to coming over. I was used to him hanging out after school. But since his accident, I was an emotional mess, and as the days passed, I realized I was missing him.

Finally, by Friday, Clint was feeling better and came over to hang out. I just wanted to hug and kiss him, but I had to act the good mother and wife around my son and husband. Later, when I had finished my chores, I joined the kids in the living room to watch some boob-tube. My husband was in the den, being his usual antisocial self, and I found myself stealing glances at Clint and smiling whenever we made eye contact.

It was getting late when my kids headed off to bed, and Clint got up to leave. I could tell his back was still stiff, and I saw my chance. I suggestively offered him a back rub. He gave me a dubious smile and said, "Sure." I had him lay face down on the couch. Then I straddled him, sat on his ass, and proceeded to give him a very sensual back-rub. I could tell he was enjoying the attention. But what he didn't know, was the accident made me realize I was falling in love with him, and Lori was going to have him, come-hell or high-water!

When I finished his back rub, I told him my husband would be working tomorrow, and he should spend the night. He thought I was just teasing him, and asked, "Why? You aren't going to do anything with me." I gave him my best sexy smile and whispered in his ear, "When Pete leaves In the morning, come up to my room."

He spent the night on the couch, and I could hardly sleep thinking about him. The next morning, I was terrified and excited! My head was spinning with possibilities. Did Clint take me seriously? Would he even come upstairs? What if he thinks my body is ugly and soft compared to all those perfect young centerfold models in his magazines? On the other hand, Lori has teased him relentlessly, and he can't keep his eyes off my tits. I know he wants me!

While my husband finished getting dressed, I went to the bathroom and washed my crotch in case Clint wanted to go down on me! I hadn't had sex with Pete, as he rarely had sex with me. But I was wet all night thinking about Clint, and I wanted to be clean for him. When I heard the garage door open, I was excited about being with him but terrified at the same time. I was hoping he didn't rush things. What if Pete forgot something! What if my kids wake up early! I knew if either of those things happened, I would be in deep shit!

I whipped off my flannel nightgown and quickly got under the covers, torn between lying in a seductive pose, without the covers, or being under the covers. I chose under the covers. But after about ten minutes, I was beginning to think he wasn't coming. Then I heard footsteps slowly climbing the stairs. My rational self was suddenly in a panic, and my heart was racing a hundred miles an hour. What was I thinking! But when he stepped into my room, my evil twin pushed my fears away. Lori was finally going to get her hands on that yummy hunk of man, and I wasn't going to stop her!

He stopped just inside the doorway with a nervous smile. I could see the desire and fear in his eyes, and I knew he was wondering if I was really going to have sex with him, or if this was just another tease! Our gazes were locked, and I gave him a naughty smile to let him know I was serious. He peeled off his shirt and moved to the side of my bed with an expectant grin. Then he undid his pants, let them fall to the floor, and he stood there with the tip of his cock sticking out of the top of his bikini underwear!

I am a woman who thinks penises are beautiful, whether they are soft or hard, and I like to watch them grow and move as though they have a mind of their own. I always assumed he had a nice cock by the large bulge in his jeans, but when he peeled off that last tiny bit of fabric, I gasped in amazement! He was so tall and thin that it made his beautiful, circumcised cock look even larger! I opened the covers and invited him into my bed.

He climbed in and wrapped his arm around me, and I thought he was going to kiss me. But then he gently caressed my face as he looked into my eyes with a thin wistful smile. I could feel his apprehension and see the love in his eyes. I gave him a reassuring smile to let him know I understood, and then he kissed me with all the passion he had in his beautiful body.

It had been a long time since I had been kissed or kissed anyone like that, if ever, and I no longer feared how I looked. Clint's hands found my tits, and our passionate kissing became almost frantic as he kneaded them and rolled my nipples between his fingers. Then he started to kiss down my neck as he kissed his way right into my booby trap and devoured my tits like a starving puppy!