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I had gone to live with a Giorgio, because I was in love with his mother, Cleta, nothing special, but I have the gift of discovering the sexual cravings that some women, albeit on an unconscious level, have; then it's up to me to help them to emerge, to make them experience lesbian sex to finally drag them, clutching them to me, in the vortex of that world, until then, unknown to them. Cleta was not having an affair, but I had discovered that she was often resorting to autoeroticism, because as the filthy lesbian bitch that I am, I had installed a camera in her bedroom. Not being able to know what erotic fantasies she got excited with: whether straight, bisexual or saffy, during her frequent masturbations, I would spy on her, believing that I was the object of her sexual cravings, while she was going to apnea, with her kidneys bowed two fingers plunged into her hairy pussy and with those of the other hand she was frantically rubbing her clitoris. The rite of preparation was always to get into the ass of cylindrical and ogival objects: markers, candles and whatever else. Great was the surprise when, I had had fun, I repeat that I am a bitch, to bring Giorgio to the paroxysm of excitement, and then, with the excuse of a sudden exhaustion, I took refuge in the part of the bed farthest from him, who had not protested but had got up, had reached his mother's room and I turned on the camera suspicious. It was certainly not the first time this had happened, because Cleta had put the book she was reading down and sat on the side of the bed, Giorgio had stuck his cock already in her mouth and had fucked her like a pussy, a short comings and goings as he held her head pressed against the hair on her groin, until, a long sigh had decreed the end of the incestuous act, at which point Cleta had swallowed, then took his penis at the base with his thumb and forefinger, going up the shaft and making a slight pressure to sip the remnant of sperm from his foreskin. Giorgio had returned to bed with me, who had turned off the camera in the meantime, pretending to snore slightly.
It was Cleta herself, after I had dragged her into my erotic follies, who had told me how their intrigue had begun.
On a Sunday morning he had entered the kitchen, wearing only his boxer shorts, while Cleta, in a bathrobe after the shower, was painting her nails, holding him on a chair, it was then that Giorgio had sat on that same chair and put his heel on the fabric of his underwear, had taken his brush from her hand and wanted to paint them for him. However, the game had become intriguing, because as soon as he finished polishing a nail, he glued his gaze on her already wet pussy for the excitement that she could not mask, due to the contact of the foot with the dick now very hard. No words were needed and they had made it look like an occasional event that would not follow, Giorgio had laid on the ground, he had pulled it out of the opening of the boxer shorts, she without taking off the sponge garment had gone over him, he had slid his cock into the groove of the buttocks and the chapel had been swallowed inside the sheath now soaked, ready to welcome him. Cleta, in order not to look him in the face, had lowered herself by leaning her cheek against his and had fucked him, while with the approach of orgasms, which were then deflagration at the same time, Giorgio had gagged her buttocks, giving her frenetic, violent kickbacks. Cleta had confessed to me that she had never enjoyed it so intensely and for so long, and that it had been she who had disengaged herself to go to the bathroom and that after leaving it free for him, she had returned to the kitchen to finish painting her nails. They had created a taboo, if that happened, then they wouldn't talk about it, he only used his mother in extreme cases, especially after he got into a shitty situation like I know I am. Only once she jokingly told him, "I feel like your blow-up doll." He said, "Do you even enjoy it?" And she says, "It's hard for me to have an orgasm in the few seconds it takes to get yours, but I prefer it that way."
Giorgio had inevitably understood that it would never work between the two of us, plus his virile pride was in crisis because he had premature ejaculation with his mother, and he could not make me enjoy it, because the rare times I indulged, I was totally estranged; I imagine that it was for these reasons that he accepted a well-paid job in Quatar, begging me to stay in their house and look after his mother. I had thus achieved the goal I had set myself, I was certain that I would make Cleta sexually dependent on me, but I had not considered the variant that I would end up falling in love with her.
I was the typical little boy, slender and tough body, breasts not very prominent, a strong-willed expression on the face with a shadow of perfidy, acquired during the period of puberty that I had spent in the angiporto of my city, immersed in the tangles of the old town, the largest in Europe. Cleta was ideal for the interpretation that I gave to the feminine beauty: I was attracted by the high and marked cheekbones, the spacious forehead, the light eyes in contrast to the black hair, streaked with white, the heavy breasts and the turned buttocks on slender legs and a few extra kilos that she hated and that I loved, plus I was excited by the acrid smell of her sweat and then the equally sharp smell of her vaginal fluids, which I would later discover.
I had accompanied her to visit a childhood friend of hers, who was in a psychiatric facility suffering from delirium tremens due to repeated abuse of alcohol, and as soon as we returned home, Cleta had asked me to sleep with her, not to leave her alone to think about the harassing thoughts that were nagging her. Although we had gone to bed late, we could not sleep, she was in anguish and I was excited by the stunned invitations her body sent me. It was she who began to tell me how in puberty, with that same friend, they had often kissed, under the pretext that they did not seem inexperienced, when they would do so with males; she confessed to me how those kisses excited them, and that they ended up masturbating, one in front of the other, although they were strongly tempted to give each other pleasure. Cleta began sobbing and I took her head and put her near my breast, while I put my hand on her belly, being very careful not to hold her too close to her breasts, let alone her vagina, while at the same time giving her kisses on the forehead, and I don't know why it occurred to me to say to her, "Do you want to go back to being a child and fall asleep sucking my breasts? No I gave her the time to answer, I stripped my breast, she immediately tightened her lips around the nipple and immediately I felt the contractions of my vaginal muscles and the dampness of the moods that the pussy was pouring between my thighs, then I placed my fingertip on her navel covered by my pajamas and began with the same finger to draw concentric circles increasing with each turn the width of the circumference, it was she who pulled her shirt over her breasts that were not held down, leaning warm and soft on my hand. I asked her, "Will you try doing it with me?" She said, "Do you want to?" And I said, "From the first time I saw you, my love." Our mouths stuck together while our tongues went ravenous, producing abundant saliva that we swallowed excitedly.
My hand reached the elastic band of her pajama shorts, Cleta, trembling with excitement propped up her heels and lifted her buttocks to allow me to slide them over her knees, then she took them off herself, kicking and immediately afterwards took off her shirt. I turned on the light because I longed to see my woman naked. "Turn off Alda, love, I'm ashamed, I'm old and fat..." I admired her stretch-mark-free body in ecstasy: "You are a goddess, become human to me!" I said to her with a thread of voice, sinking my face into her unshaved armpit, to suck in the pungent smell and taste the taste. She moaned while my finger gently caressed her wrinkled anus, then brushed her perineum and reached the small red lips that stood out among the black hair, not too thick. So I began to practice a long, expert, poignant and magical finger-finger massage with loving commitment. Cleta and begged me to stop for fear of falling into delirium because of the intense orgasms that followed at short intervals like waves breaking on the cliffs: "If you die my soul, I will die with you and I will consider myself the luckiest woman in the world, for having received the gift of your body. Cleta howled her umpteenth spasmodic pleasure, so I prevented her from continuing to scream, superimposing myself on her and plugging her mouth with my shaved pussy, dripping moods that she sucked senselessly. Sucking her clitoris, prey to an orgasm never experienced before, I dipped my middle finger in the lake of her slippery vaginal fluids, then I put my fingertip on her anal fists, Cleta dilated the sphincter and to make me understand that she liked that attention she reciprocated my same gesture. We continued to eat each other's pussy while banging our asses, dragged by the special orgasms that only people who love each other can get. In the end, satisfied and exhausted we lay down, kissing and licking our lips and tongues perfumed by our intimate secretions. When Cleta got up to go to the bathroom to urinate, I preceded her and sat down on the cup and drew her pussy on my face, she sensed what I wanted, I loosened my bladder and her piss flooded my face, filled my mouth, It dripped between my breasts, warmed my clitoris which I rubbed to give me a new pleasure, while the urine between my buttocks wet my anus which I contracted and released to enjoy the pleasure it gave to the most sensitive part of the sphincter. When the liquid finished pouring out, I sucked all her pussy into my mouth, sucking every last remnant of what was in it.
"Baptize me with your piss, love, as I did with you!" Cleta said to me, now completely enslaved by her new saffron dimension.
I climbed over the bidet, I put my buttocks on the tiles, Cleta sat on the toilet seat, she widened with her fingers the small lips of my pussy, she put her mouth open to the hole in the urethra and I began to piss slowly increasing the flow gradually until it flooded, then she looked up gratefully in love to meet mine, bewitched by her. We prepared the bath, we washed each other and as we went back to bed holding hands she said to me: "Now I know why since my divorce I never wanted to have any contact with men anymore... I was waiting for you! We went to bed and she hugged me and told me what had happened the time Giorgio had painted her toenails.
It was Cleta herself, after I had dragged her into my erotic follies, who had told me how their intrigue had begun.
On a Sunday morning he had entered the kitchen, wearing only his boxer shorts, while Cleta, in a bathrobe after the shower, was painting her nails, holding him on a chair, it was then that Giorgio had sat on that same chair and put his heel on the fabric of his underwear, had taken his brush from her hand and wanted to paint them for him. However, the game had become intriguing, because as soon as he finished polishing a nail, he glued his gaze on her already wet pussy for the excitement that she could not mask, due to the contact of the foot with the dick now very hard. No words were needed and they had made it look like an occasional event that would not follow, Giorgio had laid on the ground, he had pulled it out of the opening of the boxer shorts, she without taking off the sponge garment had gone over him, he had slid his cock into the groove of the buttocks and the chapel had been swallowed inside the sheath now soaked, ready to welcome him. Cleta, in order not to look him in the face, had lowered herself by leaning her cheek against his and had fucked him, while with the approach of orgasms, which were then deflagration at the same time, Giorgio had gagged her buttocks, giving her frenetic, violent kickbacks. Cleta had confessed to me that she had never enjoyed it so intensely and for so long, and that it had been she who had disengaged herself to go to the bathroom and that after leaving it free for him, she had returned to the kitchen to finish painting her nails. They had created a taboo, if that happened, then they wouldn't talk about it, he only used his mother in extreme cases, especially after he got into a shitty situation like I know I am. Only once she jokingly told him, "I feel like your blow-up doll." He said, "Do you even enjoy it?" And she says, "It's hard for me to have an orgasm in the few seconds it takes to get yours, but I prefer it that way."
Giorgio had inevitably understood that it would never work between the two of us, plus his virile pride was in crisis because he had premature ejaculation with his mother, and he could not make me enjoy it, because the rare times I indulged, I was totally estranged; I imagine that it was for these reasons that he accepted a well-paid job in Quatar, begging me to stay in their house and look after his mother. I had thus achieved the goal I had set myself, I was certain that I would make Cleta sexually dependent on me, but I had not considered the variant that I would end up falling in love with her.
I was the typical little boy, slender and tough body, breasts not very prominent, a strong-willed expression on the face with a shadow of perfidy, acquired during the period of puberty that I had spent in the angiporto of my city, immersed in the tangles of the old town, the largest in Europe. Cleta was ideal for the interpretation that I gave to the feminine beauty: I was attracted by the high and marked cheekbones, the spacious forehead, the light eyes in contrast to the black hair, streaked with white, the heavy breasts and the turned buttocks on slender legs and a few extra kilos that she hated and that I loved, plus I was excited by the acrid smell of her sweat and then the equally sharp smell of her vaginal fluids, which I would later discover.
I had accompanied her to visit a childhood friend of hers, who was in a psychiatric facility suffering from delirium tremens due to repeated abuse of alcohol, and as soon as we returned home, Cleta had asked me to sleep with her, not to leave her alone to think about the harassing thoughts that were nagging her. Although we had gone to bed late, we could not sleep, she was in anguish and I was excited by the stunned invitations her body sent me. It was she who began to tell me how in puberty, with that same friend, they had often kissed, under the pretext that they did not seem inexperienced, when they would do so with males; she confessed to me how those kisses excited them, and that they ended up masturbating, one in front of the other, although they were strongly tempted to give each other pleasure. Cleta began sobbing and I took her head and put her near my breast, while I put my hand on her belly, being very careful not to hold her too close to her breasts, let alone her vagina, while at the same time giving her kisses on the forehead, and I don't know why it occurred to me to say to her, "Do you want to go back to being a child and fall asleep sucking my breasts? No I gave her the time to answer, I stripped my breast, she immediately tightened her lips around the nipple and immediately I felt the contractions of my vaginal muscles and the dampness of the moods that the pussy was pouring between my thighs, then I placed my fingertip on her navel covered by my pajamas and began with the same finger to draw concentric circles increasing with each turn the width of the circumference, it was she who pulled her shirt over her breasts that were not held down, leaning warm and soft on my hand. I asked her, "Will you try doing it with me?" She said, "Do you want to?" And I said, "From the first time I saw you, my love." Our mouths stuck together while our tongues went ravenous, producing abundant saliva that we swallowed excitedly.
My hand reached the elastic band of her pajama shorts, Cleta, trembling with excitement propped up her heels and lifted her buttocks to allow me to slide them over her knees, then she took them off herself, kicking and immediately afterwards took off her shirt. I turned on the light because I longed to see my woman naked. "Turn off Alda, love, I'm ashamed, I'm old and fat..." I admired her stretch-mark-free body in ecstasy: "You are a goddess, become human to me!" I said to her with a thread of voice, sinking my face into her unshaved armpit, to suck in the pungent smell and taste the taste. She moaned while my finger gently caressed her wrinkled anus, then brushed her perineum and reached the small red lips that stood out among the black hair, not too thick. So I began to practice a long, expert, poignant and magical finger-finger massage with loving commitment. Cleta and begged me to stop for fear of falling into delirium because of the intense orgasms that followed at short intervals like waves breaking on the cliffs: "If you die my soul, I will die with you and I will consider myself the luckiest woman in the world, for having received the gift of your body. Cleta howled her umpteenth spasmodic pleasure, so I prevented her from continuing to scream, superimposing myself on her and plugging her mouth with my shaved pussy, dripping moods that she sucked senselessly. Sucking her clitoris, prey to an orgasm never experienced before, I dipped my middle finger in the lake of her slippery vaginal fluids, then I put my fingertip on her anal fists, Cleta dilated the sphincter and to make me understand that she liked that attention she reciprocated my same gesture. We continued to eat each other's pussy while banging our asses, dragged by the special orgasms that only people who love each other can get. In the end, satisfied and exhausted we lay down, kissing and licking our lips and tongues perfumed by our intimate secretions. When Cleta got up to go to the bathroom to urinate, I preceded her and sat down on the cup and drew her pussy on my face, she sensed what I wanted, I loosened my bladder and her piss flooded my face, filled my mouth, It dripped between my breasts, warmed my clitoris which I rubbed to give me a new pleasure, while the urine between my buttocks wet my anus which I contracted and released to enjoy the pleasure it gave to the most sensitive part of the sphincter. When the liquid finished pouring out, I sucked all her pussy into my mouth, sucking every last remnant of what was in it.
"Baptize me with your piss, love, as I did with you!" Cleta said to me, now completely enslaved by her new saffron dimension.
I climbed over the bidet, I put my buttocks on the tiles, Cleta sat on the toilet seat, she widened with her fingers the small lips of my pussy, she put her mouth open to the hole in the urethra and I began to piss slowly increasing the flow gradually until it flooded, then she looked up gratefully in love to meet mine, bewitched by her. We prepared the bath, we washed each other and as we went back to bed holding hands she said to me: "Now I know why since my divorce I never wanted to have any contact with men anymore... I was waiting for you! We went to bed and she hugged me and told me what had happened the time Giorgio had painted her toenails.
