Sex Trainer for Hire Pt. 03

"James, I'll tell you, only if you promise to help me with a research project I am working on for my thesis. It will, in the end, help you become more James Herbert Bond than you can imagine!" she added, as her tone went from light giggle to a deadly serious, pragmatic solicitation for services.

Becoming more like James Bond was an enticing incentive. Bond got laid multiple times in every movie and always with a voluptuous woman with an erotic sounding name. I was very partial to Pussy Galore! But, the thought of having to do college level work pumped my brakes. I wasn't a writer and my head always hurt just trying to write a one-page paper on 'How to Fold Paper Airplanes' for my English class. No way I was going to be able to write something about the type shit on Teresa Ann's business card. That would mean I had to study and that's not in my traffic lane as an action item!

However, as I was busy dismissing the idea of helping with her thesis work, I found that Teresa Ann could be very persuasive. She knew how to push a guy's buttons. While we were on the phone talking, she sent a photo of herself prominently displaying her tattoo 'I'm yours. Insert here!' That infectious grin on her face had my libido thumping as I stared at the photo. She was on her hands and knees looking back over her shoulder at a large carrot with the stem centered and protruding from her pucker hole. Her sexting message also indicated that as long as I was part of the research, I also got access to the researcher's 'toolbox!' I'd been in that toolbox earlier this afternoon and was, now, finding it harder to swallow as I began to cave into her plea for help.

My promise to accede to Teresa Ann's request that evening led to a life changing series of events. And it cleared up some points about how I went from being a virgin to becoming a mother-fucker during the same afternoon as one of the worst snow storms in ten years hit our area.

+++++

Teresa Ann had launched into the role of teacher and her sensuous voice held me captive until 10:00 PM listening to her spout off about some guys named Havelock Ellis, Sigmund Freud, and others that she rattled off. What I remember, of the Reader's Digest version, was that a significant number of mothers were sexually active with their sons. It wasn't unusual to be involved in something like that, she stated, if the attraction was mutual and not coerced or didn't involve something she called grooming. I may be wrong about grooming though. Perhaps it wasn't about hair and makeup but another definition with which I wasn't familiar. It was a bit difficult to follow her conversation because new pictures kept blowing up on my phone -- really mind-blowing views of close ups of her nipples, and of her cunt, and how she could make it contract and open. It wasn't long before I realized that my fingers were curled around Thor again and I was on my way to 'my happy place.'

I guess she could hear my heavy breathing, because somewhere along the way she stopped lecturing and asked, "Are you... jerking off to my photos, James?"

"Yes," escaped my tight lips as I hissed out the word. I wasn't the least bit embarrassed to reply; not given that I had already fucked two of her holes and was so far into getting Thor worked up that he couldn't stop even if he wanted to.

"So, does that mean we have a deal? You help with my research and I... give you my body in return, James?" the husky tone of her voice told me she was getting pretty excited herself as she coaxed me for an answer.

"I... can't... write papers!" I gritted out my reply between clenched lips as my fist churned away, gaining speed despite my wanting to slow down.

"Oh! James! I don't need you to write anything -- just talk to me openly, frankly, and... sometimes to fuck me or... someone else while we talk. You don't have to write anything!"

"Okay!" I yelled in reply. The answer just happened to be at the point where Thor unloaded on my chest in several pulsing ropes of creamy gizz. "Fuck!" I shouted. I'd been holding my breath to keep from yelling but the shout escaped and roared around my room. The points she made about fucking her just made it into my brain; but she also said something about fucking someone else while she and I talked and that part got lost as Thor coughed up his load.

To make matters worse, I heard Mom's distinct knock at the door as she asked, "Are you okay, Jimmy?" Teresa Ann heard her voice as well. I heard Goldie's giggle as I stared at the door.

"Oh, hell! James, just open the door, wide open, James! Let her see that you are okay. Smile! Wipe your finger in your cream and hold it out for her to taste. Then give her a kiss on the forehead and tell her you love her. Don't say or do anything else, just close the door so we can talk again. She will understand, I promise."

"But, I'm butt-naked and covered in..." I started to say.

"That's okay, James. I think, from what I saw this afternoon, you were butt-naked when you fucked her on the table, so she's going to enjoy seeing your dick again! Your father will enjoy the benefits of that, too, when they go to bed. You'll be doing him a favor, because she will be so revved up that he will probably get serviced by all three of her holes, tonight! Do it, James! Show her your nakedness!"

It was shear craziness, but the determination in Teresa Ann's voice overrode the common sense thought processes I would normally be applying to this situation. I should have told Mom that I stubbed my toe or dropped my chemistry book or some such shit and she would have gone away. But listening to Goldie made me throw caution to the winds.

I switched to FaceTime mode with Teresa Ann and yanked my door open. Mom's eyes popped as she took in my gizz covered chest and my slimy covered dick as it began to droop. Before she could recover, I followed directions!

Using my finger, I scooped up a slowly descending run of nut juice and held it out to Mom's lips. Her eyes began to twinkle as a smile appeared quickly from corner to corner of her cheeks. In two seconds, her lips opened like a baby bird's beak and sucked the gizz off my fingers. I watched her cheeks pucker as she made a big deal out of swallowing. Smiling, I reached out and held her tits as I kissed her forehead, with a gentle kiss.

"I love you, Mom!" I whispered as I started to close the door without another word.

Peeking out again, I saw her return to the living room. I could hear her telling Dad that I was okay; just dropped my chemistry book on my foot as I was dozing off! I could hear the weather guy going on about more snow storms tonight and school would definitely be closed again on Monday.

Teresa Ann giggled as I panned my phone to Thor while sitting down on the bed again.

"Thank you for letting me see that! I liked it when you took hold of your mom's tits. I bet she liked that, too. Maybe we should have been on FaceTime earlier. I would have loved to see you come," she added, with a wry smile.

"Can I see that carrot, again?" I asked, "How long is it?"

"You can find out, tomorrow, James," she answered, "I'll let you put it back in if you want to. I really have to go now, James. I need to complete this paper tonight for another class... and, well, I seemed to have lost two hours of study time. I think I've been abducted by aliens... again!"

I could hear Teresa Ann's giggle as she cut the video feed, leaving me staring at a blank screen. Wiping off the remaining gizz, I lay staring at the ceiling again. it took a few more minutes before I realized that Goldie hadn't answer my question about Mom and her role in planning the sexcapade that occurred between them this afternoon.

Goldie was proving to be quite deceptive. I would have to nail her down to get a better answer. And, yeah, nail her cunt in the process as well. She sure seemed to be able to hold intelligent conversations while Thor pounded her puss. Perhaps during another pounding would be an appropriate time to re-kindle the conversation with her.

+++++

As I closed the call with Jimmy, I turned to read Dr. Fukhert's facial reactions. She had sat quietly listening to the nearly two-hour conversation I had with James Herbert. I thought her facial expressions said, 'He has possibilities, but he will need a lot of work.'

"So what do you think, doctor?" I asked waiting for her preliminary assessment as my fingers returned to work.

"Teresa Ann, are you sure you want to take on your sexology certification thesis on, Incestual Relations between Mother and Son?" she countered rather than giving me a direct answer. I could tell that spelled hesitancy and thought perhaps I hadn't chosen as well as I had believed. Incest was a rare, taboo research subject, even among scholars as the stigmas associated with them carried a lot of prejudices. And that's precisely why I chose the subject to explore. I thought, with so few researchers willing to pursue the forbidden topic, I would have a good shot at getting recognition on level with Masters and Johnson during the early sexual awaking revolution. My master's thesis on Father and Daughter Incestual Relations had been written to be the springboard for my PhD roadmap to national and perhaps international recognition. Getting the next level of study in my sexology post-graduate certification using the Mother and Son aspect would mean that I could name my position among the top universities and book publications galore would follow. I just needed to gather enough subject matter to write them!

I gave my thesis counselor, Dr. Fukhert, my 'southern blond impression look' as I knelt down next to her to gather up the papers she had sorted out across the floor. Stacking them, it was easy to make my way between her knees; easy to gently nudge an opening between them. "Somebody has to do it Doctor Fukhert. Didn't you once tell me that I was eminently qualified in that field?" I murmured as my hands lightly stroked their way up her bare thighs to that wonderfully exposed puss. It seemed to beckon at me the whole time I was on the phone with James Herbert. Now, without interruption, I could return to where I had left off two hours ago. I smiled as the good doctor's puss slide forward on the cushion to better receive my tongue.

A good student always knows on which side her bread is buttered! I had just proven that by cajoling the good doctor to agree with my thesis topic. It was just as easy as seducing Jimmy and having him agree to becoming a subject in the study as well as his doting mother! I could see Dr. Fukhert's agreement written upon that tautly drawn face as she struggled to embrace the passion that I poured into her cunt and the subsequent euphoric rush that racked her body when she climaxed while my tongue burrowed inside her cunty.

As I knelt, languidly lapping up her abundant lubricants in post-coital bliss, I ruminated over Dr. Fukhert's comment about being sure of the research topic. It did give me some cause for concern. It was new, inexperienced territory. I had, after all, an in-depth working knowledge of the Father and Daughter experience. That side of it still gives me some tremors at night, knowing that my own father sits in prison, for the next twenty years, for what he did.

+++++

'Maybe, Teresa Ann had been abducted by aliens,' I thought. She sure didn't act like anyone on Earth that I knew. In my fitful sleep, my hands were probing Teresa Ann's cunt as she sucked my nipples and I plowed my cock into Mom's ass. Both of them had crazed, dazed looks on their faces as I worked them into a frenzy until their bodies seized and lapsed into a state of rapture. It's amazing how prolific you can become in your dreams. Thor was relentless in his pounding of both of them. Six holes and so many different positions! Yet even in your dreams the blood pounding in your eardrums and the thumping in your chest can only standup to so much nut crunching; then the body folds and your mind swirls down into a pit of blackness. At that point, you fall into that dreamless state, having become totally satiated.

Teresa Ann was right about Dad though. Twice in the night and again early at dawn this morning I was stirred awake and heard the distinct sounds of unusually loud sex noises coming from the other end of the hallway. I never heard Dad grunt like that before. Goldie sure knew her 'sexpert' stuff! She certainly had called it correctly when she said to open my door, naked, and share my cum with Mom. She must have really gone off on Dad. Whether the tattoo was Mom's idea or Teresa Ann's idea it was turning out to be a potent sex stimulus for Dad and for me.

It had been a very short night and I would normally have slept to noon on a Saturday, but today I was out of bed when I heard Dad, as usual, rummaging around in the kitchen for his keys. He sure was surprised to see me up. But, before he could get in his usual playful smirk about my being a slacker I said, "I'll clear the driveway Dad, just have another cup of coffee and breakfast. That should give me time to shovel the snow off for you to go to work."

I watched his eyebrows raise as his eyelids jumped skyward. It certainly was amusing to watch that look as I headed to the mudroom to get dressed. He never said a word, just stared as I strolled by him.

Where that energy came from was a mystery, but there must have been some impetus for it. I set to work on the driveway with the theme music from the James Bond movies rocking in the back of my mind. The image of a man on a mission spurred my thrusts into the light, two-inch, snow coating of our driveway. Bill, the Weather Guy, had gotten it wrong today. I thought about taking his kind of job for a living as I shoveled -- where else could you screw up your work nearly every week and still get to keep your job?

Dad came out of the mudroom door just as I had finished and surveyed the clean sweep I had made of the drive to the road. I could tell he was impressed.

"Thanks, son! I... well, thanks for cleaning off the driveway for me. Mom and I were just talking last night about how you were starting to take on some... well, just thanks for the great job, Jimmy!" he said, as he seemed to be stumbling over his words as much as I usually do. Dad wasn't much for handing out praise, but I sensed this was as good an attempt at it as I had heard in quite some time. Guess his awkwardness was just like mine. I am just a chip off the old block as Mom would remark quite often when it came to giving or receiving praise.

I, on the other hand, was dumbfounded because he reached for his wallet and handed me a hundred bucks as he remarked, "For yesterday and if you have time could you do the new neighbor's place again? I'm pretty sure that petite hottie over there wouldn't be able to lift a snow shovel -- besides she's a blond... might not even know which end of the snow shovel goes down!" He gave me that wry characteristic wink as he got in the car and drove out cautiously to the road. Mom would have scolded the shit out of him for that kind of sexist comment; if she had heard it. But out of her mindful eye, he knew he could get away with such remarks.

I smiled and waved as he straightened out the car and headed to work. Now, that Benjamin Franklin in my hand was causing me some concern. I replayed my eavesdropping on Mom and Dad's conversation last night. Had I missed something about getting paid for the snow job at Goldie's place? That and the fact that Teresa Ann didn't come right out and tell me if she and Mom had been playing me yesterday had me rethinking everything... but still there was the comment about the tattoo being Goldie's idea. Shit! Guess I'd have to pound her puss again and probe for the answer. Yeah! The image of that was painted in my mind as I re-entered the house for breakfast. I had worked up an appetite. It was only nine-o'clock -- still three hours before my usual Saturday morning struggle to rise and shine.

I came into the kitchen, greeted by the smell of ham and scrambled eggs permeating the air. Mom was just pouring coffee for the two of us and eased down into her chair as I came to the table. I took note of that and kind of smiled thinking she did so as a result of those three rounds of noisy sex sounds I heard through the night and again just before Dad got up this morning. Without Dad's presence, our eyes had only each other to focus upon and they seemed to do that guilty mind-meld thing as I pulled out my chair to sit down.

"About yesterday,..." I started to say as my eyes locked onto those bright emerald, Irish eyes. But Mom fended off my conversation by raising her hands to stop me from talking.

Her gaze broke as she said, "Eat first, then we'll talk." With that, the tone was set. We ate quietly, with a tenuous comment or two about how good the ham and coffee tasted after having shoveled the walk for Dad earlier. Although Mom's gaze was the first to break, mine remained fixed on those two soft braless orbs floating just inside her winter housecoat. I couldn't see any pajamas under it -- just the furled housecoat cupping two beckoning breasts.

My thoughts turned to yesterday afternoon. I had watched those soft tits rocking back and forth as she lay naked, belly up, and spreadeagled in the middle of the table as my cock pistoned thrust upon repeated thrust into and out of her cunt. I had watched as her nipples peaked into eraser hard nubs. The crescendo of lust building within her was amazing to see. Slow and methodical at first, I enjoyed the sensation of having my cock sliding into that wonderous warm and slick hole. A growing smile crossed my face as her breathing became stronger, burning within her as her flat tummy muscles expanded and contracted to match her gasps. Yesterday afternoon, our eyes had been locked into one another. That mixed look of angst and want played across her face as we breached the acts that mothers and sons didn't discuss.

That look disappeared when something within her took over. Perhaps it was the release of her pheromones that triggered my sexual arousal. Whatever the cause, it snapped her eyes shut at the same time as her mouth opened and let out a series of moans. At that point, I realized she gave herself to me. I owned her body to do with as I pleased. Her mind had managed to separate the taboo elements from the pleasure jolting through her core. That left her body to relish the enjoyment of the endorphins building within her. By then her tits were rocking rhythmically in tune with my jabs into her body. Amidst those moments her hips tried to catch up with my rhythm. I felt her cunt contract around Thor's head. Somewhere in the swelling moments, I too had closed my eyes and gave up trying to be considerate. I gave up thinking about fucking my own Mom. My dick went slap happy! I just jackhammered her until I came with an amazing series of gasps.

Those thoughts replayed in my mind when, inevitably, breakfast was finished and the last dredges of our coffee cups were drained. Only the 'then we'll talk moments' remained. Mom was quietly, mindlessly fussing with her plate and silverware, probably rehearsing what she knew had to be said. I, too, was doing some soul searching for words to express what, why, and how yesterday's events unfolded. Neither of us moved or seemed want to start the discussion.

"Tell me from the beginning," I began, short and to the point.

"Jimmy, I guess..." Mom began and I quickly interrupted her by borrowing a line from Teresa Ann's telephone dialog last night.

"Please Mom, call me, James! Yesterday, Teresa Ann said she had laid Jimmy to rest and resurrected James in his stead; a more mature and worldly image for me or words to that effect."

A slight smile crept upon Mom's face as she thought about my request. "I can see a difference in you also, today, James. Something is definitely different. You seem a bit more confident... more strident," she said, acknowledging what Teresa Ann had managed to forge within me.