Chapter 1
All his life, Charles wanted to be a doctor. They say your name determines what you're going to be when you grow up. Some of his friends' names were Rocky, Mookey and Thor. Obviously they were not meant for the medical profession, and certainly were never going to be Nobel winners. In fact, Rocky never lived to be 25; they found his body in the truck of his car, with a crushed skull.
Charles was a brilliant student, but his professors wondered how he managed to 'ace' his exams, when he slept only every other night. Yes, he was whoring around; but to be fair, his women were not whores, but like himself, were in pre-med. Pre-med is an undergraduate program and when Charles was in pre-med he had indefatigable stamina and would fuck a snake if it held its head still long enough. Charles managed to graduate from medical school, with a specialty in family practice. He had lost weight but not his virility.
He didn't skip grades, so he was close to 30 when he was ready to enter the fray. He was six feet tall, wore a size 40 jacket, and didn't stand out in a crowd. His dick was about 10 inches long, typical of tall skinny guys, and he knew how to use it. He spent long hours studying Gray's Anatomy and memorized every nerve ending and receptor in a woman's vulva. The vulva, as you know, contains the external parts of a woman's genitals, especially the clit.
Always loving a challenge, Charles found it very easy to pick up college girls, and an occasional housewife. But no woman fascinated him as much as his mother.
We usually find Charles in bed with his mother, Isabel, a hot-assed female who was fixated on sucking his cock. She lived a life of frustration, married to an indifferent, and always tired, husband. He owned a small restaurant, made good money, but when he came home, he collapsed.
Isabel was almost 50 years old, but she looked 30. Her thick hair was a dirty blond, her skin was flawless, and other than faint lines around her eyes, she always received cat calls when she walked through the mall. She had long legs, a tight ass, and when she was home she usually wore short shorts. That the cheeks of her plump ass were exposed, not to make a fashion statement, but to fuel her son's libido. Her inner thighs never failed to give Charles a hard-on, and so Charles spent many hours wanking off to her thighs and ass. Her breasts were full, sagged a bit due to gravity, and had thick nipples that got stiff when she was aroused.
Like most women, she like to look at herself in a mirror. She preferred the mirror on her closet door, because she wanted to look at
all
of her. Not up close, but from a distance, lying partially naked on her bed. It made her feel like a stranger, like a voyeur, watching that woman on the bed. Her thighs appeared bigger, from the low level angle, and her thick, hairy groin area was almost obscene. Wearing a half slip, so her boobs were exposed, was her attempt at modesty; but it aroused her. The woman in the mirror twisted her thick nipples, and her thighs were parted. Pretending there was a man, or even a woman, watching her made her feel wickedly whorish.
When the throbbing in her cunt arrived, she'd get on the bed and watch the woman in the mirror use her fingers in her pussy. Her cunt was very hairy because she liked it that way. It was very erotic, Victorian, like the women walking the streets of London. She thought she might have been a prostitute in a past life. She felt she'd be good at it.
She had a part time job at the thrift shop, much like a Goodwill store. Customers were usually indigent and mostly women. She made friends quickly and was attracted to women like herself, women whose full lips were always parted and moist. She avoided thin-lipped women.
During slow times, she took long breaks and masturbated in the ladies' room. Sometimes she grabbed a paperback book off the shelf, one of those romance novels where men's cocks were always stiff and ready for action. Reading the purple passages, she'd climax over and over until she heard a customer come in. She knew herself, and had no recriminations. She accepted her voracious appetite for sex, and didn't put labels on herself. There was no other way.
Chapter 2
She and Charles had been watching television when Isabel decided she wanted to play with Charles' cock. He was sitting across from her, and he was wearing running shorts that fit snugly on his slim thighs. Her eyes were focused on the bulge between his legs, and it appeared to be growing. It was her physical presence of course, her female pheromones attacking his nostrils. The throbbing between her legs was making her restless, making it difficult for her to keep her mind on the program. She was wearing a skirt at this moment, and Charles could almost feel the heat coming from her crotch.
Charles muttered something to himself, reached under her skirt, and spread her thighs apart. How many times had he fantasized about looking up her legs! Isabel began to shake, averting her eyes from him. But the image of his hard cock in her pants remained in her mind. She curled her finger into tight fists, resting them on her thighs. She took a quick look at the television, pretending to be interested in the show they were watching.
She took a deep breath, and making sure he was watching her, she flung her legs wide apart. She knew Charles loved her legs so she would tease him by slowly opening and closing her legs. Most often she wore no underwear so Charles could see the thick pubic hair on her pussy.
Charles stared at the stretched crotch band of her panties, seeing the hair and the wetness that soaked her. The creamy flesh of her inner thighs, with soft dark hair curling from the edges of her panties, made his balls ache. Isabel closed her thighs, but only to tease him.
"Wow, that made my balls tingle!" he told her. She smiled to herself because she wanted his balls to tingle. This was the game they played, keeping each other aroused and yet pretending nothing was going on.
He wanted to take her, to do her, on the floor. He was hard, rock hard. She was wet, but wanted to blow him, to suck on his massive limb. His creamy load, by itself, made her climax. And when she came, it wasn't just a drizzle; the electricity made her asshole throb.
Chapter 3
Doing the same thing, over and over, becomes dull. Charles being a creative type, wanted to spice up his life. His mother was his toy, and sometimes he played with her, arousing her, and then got bored, and decide to go out somewhere. She didn't know where he went. Sometimes he stayed out until 2 AM, but she never asked him about it. When he came home she was relieved. He wasn't much of a drinker, and she assumed he had someone outside, or wanted a change and picked up a woman.
Church was a good place to pick up a woman. Husbands rarely went to church and women were most vulnerable, feeling spiritual and horny. Some of the women knew Charles, and knew he was a doctor. They trusted him because he was kind, and soft spoken, and he listened to them complain about their husbands. Then they would go with him out into the parking lot, and let him fuck them. Usually it was in the back seat of his car, sometimes out on the grass. Wherever they could stretch out.
They were nicely dressed because women dressed to go to church. So he fucked them while they were dressed, just slipping their panties to the side so he got easy access to their cunts. They wore their nylons, sometimes bare legged. He didn't care, as long as they wanted fucking. Some of the women were older than Isabel , but most were in their 30's, married about 5-7 years. They were dying for a good fuck and as long as Charles controlled himself, the ladies would climax over and over. And once he had fucked a woman, he could fuck her again when he wanted her.
