Sex Trainer for Hire Pt. 09

Sex Trainer for Hire Pt 09

Copyright by dmallord, 2022, USA. All rights reserved.

Published Exclusively on Literotica.com

15,800 MS Words - 56 Microsoft Word Pages

INTRODUCTION

Mrs. Troutman absolutely loves her extremely shy, introverted eighteen-year-old son! Like every worried mother, she is very concerned about his extreme shyness around girls. Hell, he is always locked away in his room--and from the sounds of it, is very content with stroking his cock rather than finding a nice young girl to ease those tensions!

Picking up that crimson Sexpert training business card at the hair salon was just serendipity! Mrs. Troutman's first thought was that hiring a professional sex trainer for Jimmy would alleviate her fear. The fear that Jimmy would remain a life-long virgin; never finding the woman of his dreams. James' mom never, ever, in her wildest dreams anticipated that the sexpert, Mistress Teresa Anne, would remedy James' virginity while drawing the two of them into an incestual relationship! Newly tatted, with a wild tramp stamp 'I'm Yours... Insert Here,' Mrs. Troutman finds herself reinforcing Teresa Anne's sexual initiation of Jimmy as he emerges from his girl-shy, insular cocoon, brimming with sexual confidence.

Mrs. Troutman's last moment spying of that business card on the salon's bulletin board was fortuitus for Mistress Teresa Anne as well. She needs subjects for her PhD dissertation on 'Mothers and Sons Incestual Relationship Case Studies,' and leverages James' sexual awaking to obtain more case studies from among his eighteen-year-old acquaintances and the teaching staff at James' high school.

Adding to the imbroglio, Mistress Teresa Anne's sexologist paramour and pet, assists in molding James' new found self-awareness as a budding, self-assured teenager.

In part nine, James' sexual development continues with his new found, cunnilingus loving, bus-stop friend, Brenda. At the same time, he faces new challenges at school over the distribution of those sexpert business cards advertising sexual training by Teresa Anne. Today, James' emotional maturation level is challenged by the 'good doctor,' Dr. Fukhert MD, with a PhD in Sexology.'

Sex, is between consenting adults, eighteen or over. Expect to find masturbation, oral, anal, and mind control pharmacological drug use in this story. Be prepared for some 'bad words' exuberant male teens are prone to use when thinking about girls. Of course, Mom continues to bolster her son's self-esteem in the incestual bonding she and James have forged together!

Special thanks go out to Kenji Sato, a Literotica editor, for his proofing of this story. Just when I thought I was making headway in error corrections, he took me under his wing and cleaned up the numerous grammatical and misuse of English vocabulary words that I had missed. Definitely a 'go to' editor, if you are considering writing on Literotica!

Please, take a moment at the end, to kindly rate this story and leave me a comment on how my work resonates with you.

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Tap...Tap--Tap...TAP! "James, time for..."

"It never fails!" I hissed between clenched teeth; my hand becoming a blur.

Every school day, that old familiar morning ritual begins. Mama's cheery voice seeps through the cracks around the door jam, rattling my early morning visions of warm breasts pressed against my writhing torso. That smoldering, steaming heat of a wanton babe's hot breath panting into my ear as I huff my steaming breath into her ear as well; grunting, huffing, and bucking toward a major climax. Mom is just so oblivious to the passionate body beneath me crying out for more cock; taking every inch of me, as I piledrive into her. I just need a few more minutes to pound her flesh before I explode into her...

"Yes! Feels...so...good! Give it to me--all of it, baby! Harder! More! Oh, Yes-s-s!"

Yet, that damnable, knock-tap cracks open a thin veneer in those sensual sexual desires that are coursing around my brain. I hear the faltering moans, the voluptuous curves deflating, and the fading heat of her body dissipating beneath me, as awareness reaches up from under the covers; whapping me on the back of my head. Mama's voice is just like a damn bucket of ice water, killing the ardor. My lusty sex mate melts from beneath my hard cock and the nearly perfect fuck session just...dissolves. Shit!

One more time, her morning knocking interrupts my erotic dreams. That tap, tap, tap; time for school crap, would bang on the back of my head, awaking me from a long sensual session with my dream girl--who couldn't get enough of my body! Usually, it was some sensuous, leggy girl calling out my name as I pounded her sopping wet cunt. A girl without a name; without a clearly identifiable face, some nebulous female pleasure toy my mind conjured up in that erotic mental realm. That realm, which also controls a hormonal raging teenager's body. Thor, my cock's name, would be deep inside her, slamming home, and taking his pleasure from her squeals.

Except for today!

It's Brenda's throaty cry groaning out this morning! "Fuck me, James! Harder, baby!" she huffed into my ear. Today the hottie's image was real, she had a well-defined face. A face flushed with a rosy hue all the way down to her heaving breasts. Gasping for air, her open mouth cries out for me. With her curvy hips and red lusty lips, she eagerly pants out my name as I drill into her sopping slit! The rhythmically raucous sounds of my bedframe rock in unison with my strokes up and down Thor's ridged thickness, just clamoring for more speed. It just couldn't be stopped!

The huffing breath from my own open mouth was going full throttle. I smiled down upon my 'bus stop lust,' peering deeply into those lush chestnut eyes; listening to her panting out her needs as I plundered the most perfect, most adorable cunt in the world! There is nothing so wondrous as the contorted face of a woman on the verge of a big 'O' begging for more cock and more speed!

Yesterday, she had held out--I promised not to dick her, as I ate her cunt on mom's table--this morning's vision held was no such promise! I was inside her gripping puss and she was moaning and demanding a harder ride. I gave her one. One that resounded around the room! Those jagged vocal huffs cried out of that big wide 'O' shaped, red lipstick circled mouth, and made my dick slam even harder. My railing into her splayed legs; deep inside where Thor wanted to roam until his heart was satiated, ground against her mons. Every stab drove a new huff of air from her lungs, spurring me onward. What a dream this was--until that damn...Tap....Tap--Tap...TAP!

"James, time for school, dear!"

Normally, Mom expected to find me 'dead to the world' and whining for a few more minutes of sleep. Actually, it was just the time I needed to whack Thor off in order to settle him down and keep the morning wood from tenting my pants. Only once, did she just open the door--and froze at the sight of my fist pumping Thor, into a mad frenzy. That day, Mom's unannounced entry and seeing my jizz arch up over my chest, stopped any further 'no knock entry' approaches to getting my butt out of bed after that event!

Today, however, I swung open my bedroom door, just as Mom began her morning tapping ritual.

"Well! I didn't expect this, James!" she greeted me, while stepping back in surprise.

"You're dressed--and in slacks no less! What's going on, honey? School picture day?" she asked, genuinely surprised, as those bright eyes took in my unusually well-dressed school attire.

I smiled, kissed her forehead, and answered her pleasant morning greeting with, "I love you Mom! And, the slacks are for--Brenda. She seems to think good-looking guys should dress a bit better than my old raggedy jeans and sloppy shoes." With that, she smiled and looked down at my feet.

"Nice to see those made it out of the Christmas box, last year's box, I do believe!" she teased me about my shoes, at that point. They were her gift to me--last year.

I shrugged while responding, "Yeah, they fit, still. Need some breaking in though. Not sure how they will handle the snow. Maybe, I should change, you think?" I remarked, glancing down at the still new Tinsley Wingtip Lace-Up Oxfords. 'Perhaps a bit too much for a school day?' I thought, as I followed her gaze to take in how they looked on me.

"Not on your life, James!" She was quick to reply, as, on tiptoe, she reached up and swept a few long errant locks from drooping down over my eye. I watched as her trademark small dimple formed in her cheek with her growing smile stretching across her petite jawline. She still retained that girlish charm Dad was so infatuated with for the past twenty years. I hadn't paid much attention to it before these last two weeks--until I found myself face-to-face watching it go from a light smile to wanton lust as I experimented with new found sexual releases as a result of her and the sexpert, Teresa Anne's plan. That dimple had certainly gotten a workout since then, as those sweet lips took in Thor's head and molded it to her cheeks as I got acquainted with real sex positions.

"You do look handsome!... A haircut wouldn't hurt, you know? Although, you never dress up for me! I'm sure I was the last one to 'help relieve your stress, yesterday' and all I got was a 'thanks mom!' That girl, Brenda, got her quim kissed! Cunnilingus, you said--and she gave you nothing in return! And, now, you're falling all over yourself to dress up for her cute bod. Puppy love...got you to cuddle up to her beckoning finger, did she, handsome James?"

"Fuck, Mom! It's not like that--I just..." I stumbled over the words trying to make apologies. Hell, I felt I'd slighted Mom! And, yes; in hindsight, I guess it 'was just like that!' I had kissed a virgin's slit until she came several times, but it was Mom who came to my rescue, later, and relieved the pressure of not planting my cock into Brenda's virgin hole. And, yes, it was just a 'Thanks mom!' quickie, right before Dad came home from work. I guess she had a right to be a bit miffed!

"James!" she interrupted me; so motherly like, "Honey, it's okay! I was just messing with you! I get it; she's young, beautiful, and a virgin. I'm old; just like an old tennis shoe, to be discarded for the trashman on Fridays." She smiled, that woeful mother's smile, as she delivered that guilt-laden line; a mother's con. It was the kind of mother's con that I was just beginning to understand. As she spun around, I knew she was expecting me to follow her to the breakfast table.

I caught on a bit late, but still lunged forward, taking hold of her firm heart-shaped hips, and crooned into her ear as I held her tightly, "Still, I love you more, Mom! You are my first love! Without what you have done for me, I would still be standing at the bus stop each morning--still talking to Brenda about--snow. You know the last two weeks have been a remarkable time of transformation for me; for us. You've taught me more about sex than..."

She spun around to face me; within my grasp, those soft morning globes squashed against her housecoat and into my chest. That motherly-love glow sparkled back into her eyes and a gentle smile creased the corners of her lips. It wasn't the hot-lips, lusty look she gave me yesterday afternoon, when she found out Brenda didn't return the favor of pleasing me. Mom took care of that before Dad got home! She had mounted me, on my bed, and brought Thor off in under five minutes--five heart-pounding minutes of Kentucky Derby riding. The wet sounding slaps of her dripping thighs landing down hard upon mine, sounded like legs slapping leather in a race to the finish line--for the win!

Breaking my revery of that ride, she teased, "What, then, are you going to talk about today--at the bus stop? More--brownies and pleasure for her?" she quipped, as she teasingly pulled free from my grasp and continued to the table.

"Maybe..." I drew out the word; letting my voice rise as I stretched it out, trying to leave room for a moment of curiosity; letting it float out into the air.

"James Herbert Troutman..." came a sterner response.

Whenever Mom started with my full name, I knew the following words would be something serious and definitely some idea to which I needed to pay attention.

"...life gets complicated when you become an adult. Whether you are ready for it--or not. Brenda, you said, isn't on any form of birth control. So don't go letting Thor take over your mind! Getting her pregnant doesn't sound like that's what she has in mind, anyway," she chided me. "She sounds like a smart girl--not just 'brain smart...' I hope you don't let your dick control your actions either!" Momma said, wagging her finger in my direction.

"I won't Mom. I'll make Thor behave; I promise!"

"Right, Mr. I Promise! You've got some improving to do in that category, still!" I knew that tone; that dig was in reference to my eschewing responsibilities and a lack of direction in my life. Mom wasn't ready to let go of that drifting aspect of my 'exit high school without an action plan.'

"I think I've made some improvement there, Mom." I cut into her conversation and earnestly continued, "You and Teresa Anne made sure I'm not a virgin!" I smiled at that point, then added, "I got an 'A' in chemistry yesterday, and I talked to a girl at the bus stop--nothing about the weather. Maybe even a date this weekend! Does that not spell improvement?" I recapped my best events of the week for her consideration.

"You did more than talk, James! You ate her pussy, right here, on my table! The two of you are beyond talking! Be careful, is all I'm trying to say, son. So...okay, there has been a bit of improvement. Just don't let it go to your head, mister--either one of your heads!" she stressed, as she rubbed an errant hand along my zipper; letting Thor know she was addressing his head as well.

I couldn't let go of the thoughts of grazing on Brenda's cunt stretched across the table yesterday, quipping, "I recall eating you, too, right on this very table, Mom!" That struck a chord with her, as I saw her lips purse and a hint of a smile turn on those lovely dimples she gets, when she is all smiles. I could tell by that smile, she recalled the day, she coyly brought that damn tattoo to my attention--it got Thor's as well--and I got a nice table spread of mom's slit, her throat, and ended with a ride up her butt, as I read that wild crimson tattoo, 'I'm Yours... Insert Here' centered across the rise of her ass; for--a trifecta performance.

"Breakfast, then? And I've got to go! Need to get to the bus stop early; Brenda...well you know."

I grinned swallowing the last dredges of my coffee, picked up my backpack, and delivered a filial kiss on Mom's cheek, as my left hand managed to slip into the loose fold of her housecoat and cupped a warm unfettered breast--giving it a gentle squeeze. Mom's response was a low sensual moan as she enjoyed my bobbling her tit; before braving the cold walk to meet up with Brenda. It was the least I could do with so little time left before heading to school. If there were ten minutes to spare, I would have dropped to my knees and delivered a ten minute burst of wet tongue between her inner lips to show my appreciation and make up for my slight yesterday.

Those new slick soles on my Oxfords made my journey look like a newbie ice skater stepping out on the rink. I was sure, a couple of times, that I was going to land on my butt; before I managed to regain my balance. I was really looking forward to speaking with Brenda!

I was curious about her conversation with her mother, after I walked her home; as both of them stood in the doorway staring at me. Her mom's face was all smiles as she furtively glanced in my direction as they spoke. I just had to find out what that was about! Wondered also, if girls shared with their moms what kind of afternoon snack they had while studying chemistry with the 'bus stop boy.' Would that be one of brownies and hot chocolate or would the conversation include our two sides of cunnilingus, under and upon the table in their discussion? Yeah, my thoughts don't stray far from my pleasure zone. 'What hormonal teenager's recollections do?' I wondered as I skidded down the icy walkway in my Oxfords toward the school bus stop.

Mrs. Troutman's Observation

James' warm hand, cupped around my breast, felt wonderful but I could have used ten of them at that moment to answer the silent plea from my cunt for a morning orgasm. James' daddy had rushed out, just like James. But in his case, I did have time to give him a blowjob...just not time for him to pleasure me this morning. Our factory was reopening this morning, after that massive frozen pipe issue during the winter storm. Its operation took precedence over my clit's longing desires.

As I wiped my hands on my Christmas apron, thousands of random thoughts were whirling around in my head. But in the center of them, were my thoughts about my sweet baby, 'Oh, James, you certainly have come a long way!'. Earlier, I had watched James' movements--more confidant, it seemed, as he crossed the living room. His steps have more spring in them than two weeks before. That slouch is gone, I noted. His head seems to be held higher. Even his mood seems more jubilant, now. Teresa Anne's 'virgin cure' was working; although dragging me into it as a reluctant participant still gave me some guilty feelings.

James, I just realized as he walked out the door, didn't even ask for some lip service for Thor 'to take the edge off' his morning studies. At least his father got off and I swallowed all of it down my throat, before he left for work! That sex act never seems to lose it appeal for his Daddy. James, well, today just seemed so uncharacteristic of him. Dressed before I knocked on his door. Now, that was new... and dressed like a nice young man rather than that grunge look of his!

I wished we had more time to discuss things together this morning. There was so much more I wanted to tell James.

The sexpert, Teresa Anne, had been so convincing in her meetings of how to break James out of his introverted shell and about conversations with girls. "Mothers have always been the best bridges to overcome such severe shyness," she had told me. I'd listened; that statement piqued my willingness to help her--to help James. And I also had been swayed by the matter-of-fact presentation of the numbers of women she had worked with that helped their sons make the transition from introvert to extrovert. Seven percent of mothers have a sexual relationship with their sons, she pointed out. That's a lot of motherfuckers! Listening to her regale me with how their sons went on to take an interest in other women; well, that just seemed a natural follow on thing to become a part of, you know? Even the surreal business about that damn tattoo over my butt seemed plausible after an hour of listening to her hypnotic voice drone on about helping James. When, at the end of that delicious cup of tea she prepared, she pushed for my buy-in; it just seemed so right...so natural for me to help James.

"It's not going to hurt anyone!" she had said, so matter of fact. "It will just stay between you and your son--just a little incest--until he...moves on to other interests."

'Yes, I agreed so amiably. My face was awash with smiles and I seem to remember a lot of giggles as well. That just didn't seem like me. But I did it! What was I thinking?'