Mommy Teaches Son: Red Hot Taboo Stories for the Initiated

Product Information

I moved out of parents house and in with my boyfriend at the ripe old age of 19. One day, I lay dreaming in a twin bed in my mother's basement, the next I was playing big girl pretend in a one-bedroom apartment in a boxy building complex. Christine knew that her parents weren’t married and that the family had a difficult relationship with her mother’s sister, Jean.

The following Friday, after enlisting another girlfriend to baby-sit, I dashed out the door to meet the lawyer at a bar. When I got inside, he waved. I didn't see the cuteness -- he had a receding hairline -- but maybe I was too nervous. crying into the house, passing over the unholy mess her killers made and found you in our bedroom. You were in your crib, next to your mother on the bed. She'd been..." He cleared his throat before moving on. "The blood had even sprayed you. The police came and took their reports but I knew who was responsible." This may not sound like a big deal, but it was huge! Yes, it was about literal navigation, but it was also about things like trust and control. I still saw Rory as a kid — necessarily less experienced and skillful than I in certain areas — and he saw me as his control-freak mother who couldn't admit when she was wrong. Describes how they followed the sound of their crying into the house, passing over the unholy mess her killers made, and found them in their bedroom. It didn’t happen in an alleyway, or in a sleazy motel room. Not even in my own bedroom. It was in a dusty half-lit store pantry on the ground floor of my grandfather’s house. With about 9 other relatives on the first floor. It happened when I wasn’t alone.

1. Ellen’s family secret

My mum thought we should be more upset about her and what she’d gone through, and not the fact that she hadn’t told us. Describes how the little girl climbed into the big canopy bed and snuggled her favorite teddy bear close. her daddy pulled her blanket up under her chin and kisses her on the nose.

When the arrangement ended a few months later and my husband bought his own house, I missed those times at my mother's house dearly. This collection contains an archive of original illustrations, four sketchbooks, and erotic stories, depicting transgressive sex acts including (but not limited to) lesbian and heterosexual sex, incest, pedophilia, sadomassochistic behavior, and copulation with objects as varied as sex toys, produce, and household appliances. The stories and illustrations appear to be the work of a single individual, with nearly all narrative told from a female's point of view. Also includes some amateur pornographic photography and magazine clippings. My diet plan when I’m home alone consists of only allowing myself to eat what my kids have left over or dropped on the floor. Mmm secondhand turkey bacon. Then how about putting it to use on my pussy again? You’re going to need it strong with three pussies to service.”Ellen kept her mum’s secret for nearly 20 years. Her mum has now died. She feels like she’s finally able to talk about it. Your costume looks pretty thin,” she said, as she slid her hand over my ass. I jumped. “Yep, it’s thin alright.” She continued running her hand over my ass. I was tempted to return the favor, but she really needed my arm to walk steadily. Her hand movement changed shortly from a soft rub to gripping my cheeks. “I don’t know about you but grabbing your tight butt is definitely making me warmer.” I nodded again. She stopped walking and looked at my growing crotch. “Looks like it’s making part of you warmer at least.”

You like it, eh?" Her father bestowed on her his secret smile. In truth it was more of a smirk. Right lip raised slightly to expose an endearing dimple beneath his moustache, his cupid's bow lips pursed so it looked like he was pouting. "I forget you are fierce, like she was." I feel betrayed, angry. I understand but I still feel angry. It makes me feel sad as well. I still have trouble believing that my dad isn’t my dad because we got on so well and we looked quite alike. Liz’s dad had had an affair 50 years previously, which resulted in a daughter. Liz and her brothers had a half-sister. If he is comfortable dressing in a way that makes him feel like he blends in, I think that is great. However, I want him to have the inner confidence to step out of the box if he wants. If he feels like wearing something, even though none of his peers are, I want him to feel like he can. It happened when I was 10. It’s not like most stories that you might have read about; there was no struggling, no screaming, no taunting or violence. It was silent—mostly because I had no idea what was going on.I’d been living my gay life quite quietly away from the family home and I just got to the point where I needed to talk to my parents about my life. I didn’t think I could continue not being honest with them. Uncle Jim is married to a woman named Rhonda, whose hobby is crochet. No, not “hobby,” exactly: her crocheting is a compulsion, perhaps some kind of illness. Rhonda crochets cozies not only for the extra toilet paper rolls, as I’ve seen in some of my friends’ bathrooms, but also for the phone and the phone book and the dog and my uncle’s guns and both of their toothbrushes. This cozying does not make the objects look cozier; it makes them look ashamed. As in date? They had to be kidding. Not only was I a 29-year-old single mom with dishes in the sink and baby clothes with stains I'd never actually scrub out, but I breastfed "on demand." How in the world could I even think about hooking up with some hot man when my cha-chas were making milk? I thought it’d be super cute to make my children little mugs of hot chocolate with a dollop of marshmallow fluff on top after a few hours spent playing in the late autumn cold. They were seated and enjoying themselves so I seized the moment, left the room, and got to work on a pile of dishes. Bad idea. My two-year old daughter rubbed the marshmallow fluff into her hair like candy shampoo while my three-year old soon gleefully cheered her on.

Delectable tales of older women imparting their lustful knowledge on inexperienced lovers... come get a taste of these 180 stories, right now!

2. Christine’s family secret

That’s not the case for my grandfather. Although I listened to my parents and avoided him, it was out of obedience and ignorance. Not because I actually understood why I should. And when I finally did many years later, I hated him for it. Which is a difficult task to do even after all these years. I got a suspicion that she was up to something by her facial expressions and the way she’d look at her phone when she was reading something. I’d never really seen her do that before. My mother’s whole family, they all knew. All her brothers knew. And my dad knew. Everyone knew except me. Even my dad’s sister knew evidently. How didn’t I know for the whole of my life?” It all just got too much for me. It was all I could think about. I couldn’t pretend any longer to my mum. My dad didn’t deserve it anymore, I had to get it out.”