I’m writing in about my experience over this past summer because I have to get it off my chest. There is no one I can talk to about this because it could cause some serious damage to the people I love the most. It’s crazy, I always felt that my mom and I were very close – that we told each other everything – but this summer I got to know my mom in a way I’d never known her before, and she wasn’t
even there with me.
My name is Kristen. I’m a psychology major at College of Central Florida in Ocala, Florida. Ocala is full of horse farms and the people who own them –people who belong to elite social clubs and who send their kids to private schools. I grew up in Ocala, the only child of a neurosurgeon father and a college professor mother, and we just happened to own the biggest horse farm in Ocala.
When I decided to attend a community college my parents were disappointed, to say the least. Gail and Henry (as I like to refer to them), just couldn’t believe their precious little girl would turn down the opportunity to attend Notre Dame, the family Alma matter. What they didn’t understand was that there was no way I was going to leave my boyfriend, Nick, behind. I was always so sheltered by my parents and Nick was my first real boyfriend. I lost my virginity to Nick. He
was older and more experienced than I, and taught me how to really let go and enjoy sex. Nick’s huge, hard cock had me under a spell. I rode it every chance I got. And the way he licked my pussy and sucked on my clit always left me reeling and wet for more. It was the typical storybook puppy-love infatuation, and sex was the driving force.
When I left home to move into Nick’s studio apartment with him, well, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Gail insisted that, because her nest was empty, it was time she and Henry fulfill their dream of restoring a historic bungalow closer to the University of Florida campus, where she lectured. Henry reluctantly agreed to put our eighty-acre horse farm on the market and they moved
up to Gainesville one month later. I don’t care what Gail says; she moved out of spite. I was her best friend and companion before I moved out. Dad seemed to work all day and night so, when I left home, she was nothing more than a lonely, aging woman with nothing to pour herself into. Gail’s new, old house – all four-thousand square feet of it – desperately needed her attention, and she went to great lengths to let me know that I had been replaced. I felt sorry for her, really. After
all, it didn’t matter to me where she and Henry lived as long as their checks came each month.
Nick and I pretty much lived it up on Henry and Gail’s dime. Our apartment was really nice compared to the student housing all my friends lived in and it quickly became the party hot spot. During the second semester of my sophomore year, the keggers we’d been throwing started getting boring to us and we decided to spice things up by throwing pajama parties. The guys showed up in their
boxers and the girls in little more than a thong. That’s when things got really exciting. Our parties always ended with drunken sex orgies. It was impossible to step through the living room without nearly tripping on this couple in sixty-nine or that girl being pounded from behind. Nick and I liked to watch as our guests sucked and fucked each other in every which way you can imagine while we mutually masturbated. When we got so hot and horny that we could no longer hold out, we’d
go back to our bedroom and fuck like wild animals. His dick was always so throbbing and hard for my wet, hot pussy by the time we locked the door that we rarely even made it to the bed. Our sex was so mind-blowing that I was completely blind-sided when Nick suggested we bring another girl back to the bedroom with us. He insisted it would bring us closer, that the experience would be all about us deepening our sexual bond. I was admittedly bi-curious so I bought it, hook, line and sinker.
And I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.
I chose the girl. Mindy was her name. She was a hot little tart with waist-length wavy brown hair, big blue eyes, and full pouty lips. She couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds but she was stacked front and back: big natural tits and a nice round ass. I think I got wet as soon as I saw her. After all, she was lying on her back, spread eagle, moaning and fondling
her perfectly round breasts while watching intently as some blond girl suckled on her sweet spot. Somehow I got up the nerve to approach her and invite her to join me and Nick, and she was more than eager. I led her, by hand, back to the room where Nick waited in our king-sized bed. I told Mindy that I’d never before been with a girl or had a threesome, for that matter. To my relief, Mindy was a take-charge kind of girl. She took my face in her hands and began kissing me slowly,
seductively, making my stomach buzz with anticipation. I remember her saying, “Don’t worry, Kristen. I’ll take good care of you.” And did she ever. As she traced my lips with her soft tongue, she undressed me, taking time to explore my warm crevice with her delicate hands. Then she laid me down on the bed, removed her lace thong, pulled my legs apart, and began licking and sucking on my clit. Nick took his cue and stationed himself behind Mindy’s upturned ass, where he fondled
her swollen clit and fingered her pink pussy until she begged him to put his cock in her. Nick pumped away as Mindy groaned with delight, eating my pussy with more and more intensity as her own pleasure grew. When I creamed we switched positions. It was my turn to lick Mindy’s sweet, hot cunt, and also my turn for a good ramming by Nick’s eager dick. We all climaxed in unison and fell into a deep sleep, soaked in each others’ sweat and cum. It was a night in heaven that I’ll never
forget, and the beginning of my hell with Nick.
Less than two months later, I came home from finals to find Nick and Mindy fucking in my bed. I know it may sound ignorant of me, but I really didn’t see it coming. I was devastated and insisted Nick and I take a break. Gail was the first person I called after I forced him to leave. She asked me to go to Gainesville to dog-watch for the summer: “Why don’t you come here and spend
some time with your babies while your dad and I are away on holiday? You’ll have the whole house to yourself. You’ve really got to see it, Kristen: reclaimed plank flooring and marble mosaics . . . oh, and don’t forget that Gainesville is full of young college boys!“ She had me at “boys.” I didn’t give a fuck about her pet project, but I sure as hell needed to get out of Ocala and some time with my two Weimaraners sounded like just what the doctor ordered.
Pritsy and Bitsy were so happy to see me that I practically felt like my old self again as I watched my parents back their Volvo out of the driveway. Even more, the liquor cabinet was stocked. It was “me” time. I stripped down to my skivvies, poured myself a rum and coke and began snooping around the large, old house. Gail was right: the antique bungalow was really decked out. But
what I was really interested in was what my mom had been up to without having me to dote on: like, how much money did she spend on her self-medicating shopping sprees, and what new “touch-ups” had she sprung for at the plastic surgeon’s office? Knowing Gail, I knew that I could find all of her secrets in her private office. It didn’t take me long to discover a post-it note on the inside of her desk drawer with what appeared to be a password: “lips123.” Just a few minutes and a few clicks later
was all it took to figure out that lips123 was the password to her Gmail account. Bingo! What I found in her email still shocks me to this day.
Gail had a folder labeled “BBC” that was just screaming for me to take a peek. It didn’t take me long to figure out what “BBC” stood for. The first message I opened was from some guy named Tyrone: “Hey there, sexy. Can’t stop thinking about you and that hot pussy. I’m ready for round two. We meeting up tonight?”
I thought for sure it had to be some kind of mistake – junk mail or something. But then I opened the attachment. There it was: a massive black cock, fully erect, and with a water bottle alongside it to prove its length. A female’s hand held the water bottle in place – a female’s hand with a gold thumb-ring, the thumb-ring I’d bought my mom for her last birthday! There was no denying
it. Gail, my mom, was obviously fucking a black guy named Tyrone. I was shocked beyond words, but I can’t say I blamed her. I mean, Henry was never around . . . and Tyrone sported some grade-A cock. I was even a little jealous. I had to learn more. Forcing myself to get over the fact that it was my mother I was snooping on, I delved deeper into the BBC folder and found some really juicy stuff. Apparently, my mom is quite the freak and has no problem talking about it.
couldn’t believe some of her messages to Tyrone, about wanting to suck the cum out of his fat dick and wishing he was there to pound her wet pussy all night long, the way she liked it. She said she couldn’t get enough of his big black cock, and went into detail about masturbating to fantasies of him: “Right now I’m rubbing my throbbing clit, Tyrone, thinking
about your hot tongue all up in my pussy. I’m dripping wet. I want you to stick your dick in me and pump me full of your cum. I
can’t wait until the next time I get to ride you. I’m going to fuck you so hard your head will be spinning.”
And Tyrone’s messages were just as hot: “Been thinking about my horny cougar all day. Can’t get last night out of my mind. That pussy is so sweet and hot and wet. I love how you take my dick up in you like a real woman, and how you scream my name, and how you whimper right before you squirt. Damn, woman. I’ve got to taste that cunt again, real soon. When we meeting up
I wondered about the age gap between Tyrone and Gail. He did refer to her as a cougar. Who was this guy and how did he know my mom? The next few emails I read answered all of my questions. Tyrone was a post-grad student and my mom was his professor! He was unhappily married and his problems on the home front were affecting his grades. Fucking my mom was apparently his
extra credit plan, and they liked to recount the story of how they first hooked up in vivid detail in their messages to each other.
Their first sexual encounter took place in my mom’s office. Tyrone stayed after class to ask if she had any suggestions for him to improve his test scores. Gail had a soft spot for the dark, handsome man referred to as “Ty” by his classmates. She looked like she had been crying that day and was a bit shaken. When Tyrone asked her if she was okay, she broke down and started sobbing
about her always absent husband and her daughter who’d left home. She was humiliated for exposing herself in such an unprofessional way and begged Tyrone’s forgiveness. Tyrone was touched and turned-on at the same time. They couldn’t agree about who made the first move that day, but one thing was for certain: they’d fucked right then and there, on the desk. And twice again that same week. When they realized it was going to be a regular thing, they started meeting at a hotel. That’s
when the camera came out. I have to admit I was aroused by the photos of Gail and Tyrone fucking, of her sucking his enormous cock, of him licking her pussy and shoving his dick deep into her hole. Every time I turned off the computer for the night I headed to my bed, where I rubbed my throbbing clit and fingered my wet cunt until I was laying in a puddle of cum. I liked to imagine it was me Tyrone was fucking – that his long, hard penis was deep inside of me, probing and stroking my pussy until
my toes started to tingle and turn numb, as Gail had described. I envisioned his long, wet tongue encircling my swollen clit while I sucked that massive dick for dear life.
I wanted to do everything with Tyrone that I’d ever done with Nick, and then some. But I had to leave him in my fantasies, and in my mom’s laptop. He was Gail’s and, I have to admit it, I was happy for her. I’ll never tell. What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I did keep a remnant of Tyrone for myself: a picture of that beautiful cock for my nightstand . . . and, of course,
I still have the password. I mean, what Gail doesn’t know won’t hurt her, either. Right?