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Father fucked his daughter’s soul out of his body ………………………………………….
Mutti was invited to her sister over the weekend. The two would sit again in the living room overloaded with nipples and mutually bind the latest gossip under their nose. I was glad that I hadn’t driven along.
I had actually intended to make a small local round with Pete. We were at “Mikes” first, but somehow Pete and I no longer got the right wire to each other.
Pete had been of great help to me when I entered the company. It hadn’t taken long and we had become a couple of lovers, although I don’t know whether lovers were really the right name. We both had – each for themselves – quite a lot of fun in sex and found that we had the double fun together. I then quickly climbed the career ladder and that hadn’t been good for our relationship.
Pete had stayed behind me like an old Trabi on the highway, and I had leased the fast lane – at least for the moment.
I didn’t really like to go back to the apartment. She was modernly furnished and I felt comfortable in it, but at the moment I didn’t want to be alone. I could actually visit my father again, I remembered. Since I moved out of my parents’ apartment, I haven’t had too much contact with mom and dad.
I am traveling a lot professionally and you understand this and are quite proud to have a successful daughter. I was lucky and found a parking lot near my parents’ house. I stayed for a moment in the car sit. Every meter of the area was familiar to me, was associated with experiences and experiences for me.
I gave myself a jerk and got out. My stick shoes sank in the gravel of the access road. My father persistently refused to have the path paved. I stood in front of the front door and rang.
It took a while for the light to be in the corridor and I saw a shape on me through the milky pane of the front door. Papa turned the key twice and carefully opened the door – of course with a safety chain presented.
“Do you want me to freeze me out there, paps?”
He was really happy to see me. At the same time I noticed that he had grown old. 63 is really not an age, but Papa somehow felt tired and bent before.
“What drives you here?”
He closed the front door and asked me into the house.
How I was familiar with the smell of this house.
Papa took my jacket off and hung on the Gardarobe. Together we went into the living room. There the television ran with any thriller. Papa turned the television.
“What do you want to drink, I would have a good red wine?”
“Gladly!”
Papa picked up the glasses and I got up and looked around in the living room.
It was all the old, the books, the vases, the pictures of the family members.
Papa gave me a full glass.
“Bottom up, Michaela, I’m really happy that you are there!”
We encountered each other and began to chat about God and the world.
It was strange. I couldn’t remember ever talking so relaxed and comfortably with dad. Maybe it was because we were both older or just because mom was not in the house, who always controlled everything and had an eye on.
Our glasses were empty very quickly and dad as a attentive and loving host always filled up quickly. I got warm, warm and sensual.
Papa just told about his wish to drive to the North Cape in the motorhome. Since I was able to remember, this has been a dream of his and since I could remember, Mama didn’t play along. First she pushed the money, then the children, then the garden and now age. Papa probably didn’t have much to laugh about in his life, had to enjoy.
I looked over the edge of the glass – this time not as a father, but as a man. He was still a stately appearance and the gray hair was good for him. I didn’t know what had held him in Mama all the years. You could steal horses with dad, while mom always pointed out possible dangers and suffocated every liveliness in the bud.
Papa had always stood by me and had always defended me and my pranks.
I liked him, yes, I loved him. I would have loved to go to him now, would have sat on his lap and told him how much I appreciate him. Only that was no longer possible. Why not?
“Hey, Michaela, you can still listen to me at all?”
Papa looked at me reproachfully.
His gaze stroked my face and got stuck on my breasts for a moment.
One of the few good things I inherited from Mama was the bust. Mom had a nice breast and I didn’t stand it after.
I could see the longing and sensuality in Papa’s eyes.
“It’s hot inside,” I said and opened a button on my blouse.
Papa continued to try to conduct a normal daughter, but my cleavage irritated him. His eyes lingered on my breasts more and more often, and the conversation became more and more fragmented. I leaned forward and got a handful of peanuts.
Papas looked lost in the valley of my breasts. I enjoyed seeing him, seeing what little things I could do with joy.
Suddenly I became horny, sensual, excited. I might have drunk too much wine, maybe I was just tired and exhausted, as was it, I didn’t want to talk anymore, chat, I wanted to feel, feel, be excited …
I had to go to the toilet. I got up a little fluctuating.
Papa looked at me in astonishment.
“I have to be for little girls,” I knocked a little and winked at him.
In the bathroom I pulled out the slip and the bra. I couldn’t help it, I had to go between my labia. I was wet, dripping wet. My nipple pressed against the fabric of the blouse.
I had to have dad, not as a father, but as a man..
Back in the living room I sat next to him the couch.
“I was at the gynecologist last week”
Papa looked at me in amazement.
That was a topic that mom had never spoken to.
“He said that more and more women, even young women, get breast cancer”
Papa listened to me patiently and attentively, but you could see from afar that he didn’t know how I got the topic that he didn’t know how behaved.
“The only thing that helps is the regular examination of the breast. Mama actually did that?”
Papa looked at me in a spirited manner. He was kissing. He had become red.
My dad was embarrassed to talk about his daughter of breasts and sexuality.
“The gynecologist just has it. He knows his way around. I know z.B. never whether a little thickening in the chest is already a malignant ulcer or completely harmless “
I opened my blouse and took my right breast in my hand.
It is big and heavy and is in good hands. My dads grew my eyes out of my head, he looked like a large snail with long, thick style eyes.
“Yesterday I discovered a knot in the right breast and I don’t know if that is normal”
I let my hands slide over my breast, pressed and examined a little.
“I wanted to ask you if you may know how to deal with Mama!”
My father was certainly not in the past now, he was not with his wife, he was only in the present, next to me on the couch, and couldn’t turn my bosom.
“The gynecologist said that when the knot occurs in both breasts, on the left and right, he is benign. But I also button, somehow I have the feeling that it is somehow bigger in the right breast!”
Papa sat in front of me like the mouse in front of the snake – hypnotized, unable to act, talk, react on his own, to act, to react, to react.
“I thought, maybe you can help me, maybe you feel a difference”.
I took his hand and put it on my right breasts. I was sushing, I was horny if he had taken me now, I would have spread my feet by myself, I wanted to feel it, feel in me, have very close.
Papa made his hand lightly lying on the breast like a butterfly wing.
“Look, down here, here it seems a bit strange to me …”
I took his fingers and press them over my breast.
My stiff nipples stretched steeply and upright up.
Papa was like in a trance. He sat motionless next to me and stared at the full chest in his hand. Infinitely slow, like in slow motion, he leaned down to me and took my wart in my mouth. He sucked tightly and no longer stopped sucking, nibbling, licking.
I closed my eyes and let myself slide back onto the sofa. Papa kept my bosom in my mouth and suddenly lay above me as a matter of course ….
As if by itself, I spread my thighs that he could lie comfortably and with his weight it was not on my stomach. My mini skirt slipped up the thighs as if by itself. Papa was so busy with my breasts that he didn’t even notice that he was lying on my naked and bare mouse.
He pressed his pelvis towards me and I could feel his erection through the fabric through the fabric. Suddenly Papa jerked his head jerkily. The last thing I wanted now was some stupid talk: “That doesn’t belong!”, Or” we are not allowed to do that!”. I picked up his face and gave him an extensive kiss.
At the beginning he fought gently against it, then he gave up the resistance.
His tongue gently slid into my mouth. I loved lying under him with swollen breasts. My hand made itself a hike to his pants. I wanted to feel the masculinity, my father’s excitement directly.
From the outside I already felt that my father was a proud and upright man. A thick, hard erection desperately sought her way out. I knew now I wasn’t allowed to make a mistake. If Papa came to my mind now, then it could be that he would be swept away by conscience, from morality.
I started to knead, stroke, caress about kneading through the fabric through the fabric. Paps rammed his tongue into my mouth like a steam hammer. He forgot the father-daughter relationship, he forgot who was excited and sensual below him. The lust won the battle in the stem brain and swept all sorts of objections.
His hands were looking for my breasts. Now he was a man, very man and horny like a bull. His fingers and greedy enclosed my soft meat and pressed it together. I almost shouted.
He hurt me, but I saw him. He might have been decades since he had had a young, tight women’s breast in his hand. In the meantime, a lot had to be desired, thawed in longing.
He got up unexpectedly. He saw my raised skirt, his gaze fell on my shaved mouse.
I love to leave a small triangle of pubic hair. At the same time, I enjoy it when no hair restricts the sensitivity of my labia, my clitoris. I felt like a prostitute in the display in the pleasure mile of Amsterdam. Without taking the view of my open labia, Paps slowly opened his belt.
Somehow I had lost every sense of time. The whole scene seemed to me in extreme slow motion. Papa grazed the pants from the body and the stake of his masculinity bulged his old -fashioned panties. I didn’t want to be inferior to him and brushed my skirt off my thighs and slipped out of the blouse.
Now it was up to me to stare at my father’s pelvis. I was curious, wanted to see his member, see naked in front of me. Very slowly, carefully, father pulled out his underpants and let her fall on the floor carelessly.
Of course, as a daughter, I was always proud of my father, but what I saw now read me inside. Father had a beautiful cock, hard and strong and gnarled like the thick root of an oak.
He stood there, demanding and upright, a wonderful sight. As if I myself, I raised my upper body and stretched my face towards Papa. Before I would slide into me, I wanted to have it in my mouth, suck and lick it and make it familiar to me ….
Papa came up to me like the flag carrier of a military delimitation. With every step his tail bobs up and down.
I looked dad in the eyes, full of love, full of love, full of desire. My fingers closed carefully around his trunk. I had only had young lovers so far, this was the first member of an older man. What I was now awesome and proudly held in my hand could be seen.
Full and upright, his member stood away from him. The veins pressed darkly through the skin. The dark purple acorn stared at me provocatively and confidently. What a feeling of holding my father’s excitement and masculinity in hand.
Now I could Mother still understand less that always gave itself quite bitchy and unotic. How could you let such a beautiful, sensual trunk stand around in the apartment unemployed?
The behavior of Robert, my first lover, now benefited me. Robert was – like all men 🙂 – a lover of oral sex. Although he enjoyed it over everything, he allied me all the time in the world, not demanding anything from me.
He spoiled me extensively with his nimble tongue, with his smooth lips and had the patience and the sensitivity of a true lover. After a while I became curious, wanted to take a closer look at his tribe, who made me so much pleasure and so spoiled me. Since that moment I have been a lover of oral love. I love it and enjoy it, full of devotion to my lovers to its full size and strength to caress.
Only this was no longer necessary with my father. I opened my mouth as far as possible and introduced his wand myself between my lips. It needed space, plenty of space. The skin on the lips, the skin on the cheeks spanned the cheeks of a fully eaten hamster.
I was careful that I didn’t have his bloated acorn too far in his throat. We two would already join each other over time.
My tongue circled his nille eagerly. As moved by ghost hand, his member immediately straightened up. I felt like I was raised by his trunk.
My fingers lovingly included his wrinkled sack. His big eggs were hard and firmly in his hand. When I thought that they were full of juice, borderful, overcrowded, showed Schauer full of wool lust along my back. Papa put his hands around my head.
Now I was a prison of my own desire. In front of me the proud limb, which stuck in my mouth to a fraction of its size and at the back of my head the limited hands of my father. I could only hope that he didn’t forget who spoiled him so enjoyingly. If the lust of his sensitivity now won, there was no escape for me anymore.
I started sucking and licking.
His grip around my head was firm and strong as the blue, iron brackets of his old workbench below in the basement. I hardly got any air to breathe. I carefully moved my head back in the hope that dad understood my movement. He really granted me some scope.
I licked up and down the entire length of his tribe with my tongue. Papa had now solved his hands and supports his eyes with your eyes closed with pleasure and devotion. I wanted his limb to be well enjoyed from all sides through my tongue. Of course I sucked like a small child on the oversized play equipment of my daddys..
With both hands I kept my father’s huge tribe surrounded.
The twitching and throbbing piece of lust in my hand was the victory price. I wanted him to have it completely, have it in me. I gently pushed dad to the sofa. With all excitement, he reacted to the smallest physical forms of expression of me.
Daddy settled on the Diwan with his bare buttocks. I looked into his eyes and sat down on his thighs. Right from my stomach, protected in the tamed forest of my pubic hair, his proud and sublime link stood. I wanted to experience and enjoy the coming moments in all facets.
Papa had gone in my hands for the moment. I gently lifted my butt and took his twitching limb into my right hand. Carefully like a pilot on the approach, I settled on his love strain in slow motion. Caring like an unspoken promise, his glans touched the entrance to my love gate.
I had already known God’s extensive and crazy highlights in bed, but this feeling was unique. I wanted to give up, melt like a drop of water on a hot stone in the heat of the lunch sun. If my arms had only worn me, I would be so fallen in love for eternity. My daddy naked and breathed under me, I on his thighs with his link in my hand.
But it didn’t take long and the arms failed me my strength.
The gravity pressed me over his plump love strain. His full glans share my wet labia, push them to the side to the side. Papa penetrated me infinitely slowly. I was glad that he didn’t My first husband was.
I think if Papa had been to deflorate me, he would have torn me in two. So he just sank into unstoppable into me. I hadn’t believed so far, she was supple about how adaptable my mouse was. I spread my thighs as far as possible.
My friend Irmgard had received her baby last year. She had told me what the midwives had taught her at the birth preparation course: under no circumstances hold your breath, inhale and exhale deep. If this stops at birth, why not even when an oversized man conquered me? Papa had to be over my belly button with his glans at the latest, and it still slid into me. I wanted to cry out of lust but the cry died in my throat.
My father had closed his hands around my pelvis, I was under his violence. I knew how far a member could penetrate me, but purely physically I had the feeling that the trunk did not break my vagina but as a whole. I put my head on father’s shoulder full of devotion. Without saying a word, he had now taken over the initiative.
Without bumping without moving, he bloated his limb in my vagina. I had the feeling that he tears me out inside. Papa stayed very quietly, with me as a wound of victory on his lap. His mouth approached my stiff nipples and sucked tight.
I didn’t want to wait any longer, I wanted to feel it, feel with all my senses, feel in me.
Papa pushed his tongue in my mouth hungry. His hands coveted my breasts. I started to tense my pelvic floor muscle very carefully. A roaring groaning removed his mouth.
Without moving me externally, the muscles in my mouse began to massage my dad and caress. We would see how long he was able to preserve the version ….
Papa grabbed me with both hands on my pool, raised me and threw me on the sofa in front of me. The movement came so quickly, so suddenly that I lay on my back before I even realized what had just happened there. At the same moment, dad was over me, urged himself between my thighs and penetrated into me.
As a child I had seen on the farm of my grandparents how a stallion jumped a mare. I still know how I had stared on the long, thick swing of the stallion, and how embarrassing the whole mom was. She didn’t say a word, but apparently sexuality in her worldview had no place – especially not in public, unconditional and uncensored. I had to think of this picture now.
Papa was my stallion and I was his mare. He wasn’t just my stallion, he was my stallion, my bull, my goat, my rammler. He took me without any ifs and buts, he penetrated me and rummaged into my inner one. If there had ever been something like a original generation, it had to have gotten that way.
He proud and powerful about her and in her, she excited and sensual and receptive under him. I gave him my body, my sensuality, my breasts, my mouse, my kisses, my breath …
And dad used plenty. He cost what he was craving and he took what he felt like. If it hadn’t been my dad, I would have tensed at times, so hard, so demanding, so deep his bumps.
He spied on me with his stake and took possession of me. Something had to be exploded in his backbone, in his stem brain. He took me with the a **** of an animal, and because I loved it and because he was familiar with me, I could enjoy it. I was available to him and took his lust.
I don’t know how long he had taken me uninhibitedly. At some point he became calmer, more sensual, more attentive. His bumps, all of which were violent, merciless, became more attractive, sensitive. Once he pushed his trunk into me for the whole length, then again his plump glans only massaged the entrance to my mouse.
Papa and I were meat, a desire. We both were now completely sweaty, a cloud of haze from A ****, desire and sensuality was like a cloud in the room.
I admired dad. He was a lover to complete. Although he was already spoiling me for eternity, he had still not come.
I didn’t know where he could get from. Maybe the age did the experience. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care either. The main thing was that we two felt and coveted.
There is a loud, unnaturally shrill crying the sensual atmosphere of the room. Papa froze in me. Mama stood in the half -open living room door, her travel bag in her hand, and looked at us with a mixture of unbelief, anger and excessive anger ……
I felt like a thief caught in a fresh act. I instinctively covered my breasts with my two hands.
Mom had caught a little again in the meantime. She let her travel bag fall on the floor with a loud “plop” like a sack and triumphantly entered the room.
“You miserable, perverse pig!“, She drove onto my father and the words injected like small, poisoned arrows out of her mouth . “You don’t even stop in front of your own daughter!”
Her boring eyes looked for my face. I turned my gaze to the ground.
She addressed her thick index finger like a judge: “Her own daughter, a cheap hooker! It has come far. In -house! Then I just got home in time!”
You could hear the triumph from her voice.
Papa had now rose.
“Don’t touch me!“, She wealthed towards him,“ I scream that you have the whole neighborhood in the house!”
He was with her with two quick steps. Mama instinctively avoided backwards, but it was already too late. With her open hand, her father hit the face once or twice.
A thin blood of blood ran out of her nose and from her lower lip. Startled, my mother drove his hand in his face.
“You hit me!“, She started daddy,“ you will pay for that!”
I felt like in a bad film. I hoped the whole thing was nothing else like a bad dream. The alarm clock would ring and I would wake up at home, alone, in warm, cozy bed, and everything that was going on before my eyes was nothing else like a nightmare of my soul.
But the hope was in vain. No dream saved me, the horror before my eyes continued unchecked. I wanted to get up, scream, between the two. Papa kept pushing mom into the corner until there was no escape.
Mama was aggressive, angry and dominant under the open apartment door. Now she was anxious and small. She had obviously exaggerated her demonstration of power. Papa was now right in front of his wife.
With his right hand he grabbed her hair on the back of the head and with his left he tore up the front zip of her skin -colored bodice in one train. The two parts gaped apart and mums of wild breasts fell into freedom. At 56, she was still a very beautiful and attractive woman. Her breasts were big and soft and full and certainly for many men an extremely attractive object of desire.
Her warts shone like two large and black islands in the room.
“So, so I’m a perverse sow!“, My father repeated the sentence like a powerful mantra and slowly pulled my mother’s head back into the neck. “Do you actually know how often I am lying next to you and you have always refused?”
My mother’s eyes flickered with fear.
Do you know!“He continued,“ how much your cool, cold, distant manner has gone to my mind for the whole marriage?”
Paps let go of her head with a lightning -fast movement and tore her skirt off the pelvis.
“But you stood above everything throughout his life, we are not animals, it is not true!”
Papa was talking more and more into an overwhelming hatred.
“I was always the guilty one, I was always the dirty!”
Now they were their tights and their panties on their turn. In contrast to me, mom was not shaved and a dark, unbeatable jungle made of pubic hair covered her lap. Mom looked at me for help.
I knew I couldn’t get involved now. It was a story that mom and dad had to clarify themselves.
Papa let go of Mama and drove her on: “Stewing out of your robe!”
Like a hypnotized secretary on any provincial stage, Mama blouse and bodice stripped off the body and then climbed out of rock, tights and panties that snake around her feet.
Mom stand helpless and naked in the room. She didn’t even try to cover her nakedness with her hand. I knew that she would never forgive me for my behavior.
I had looked like I had how Papa humiliated her.
“Kneel down!“I heard my father say. Mama stopped as if rooted. Papa grabbed her head and press her to the ground. I knew what would come now.
I was the paralyzed viewer in a surreal play.
Even if I had often suffered from mom’s prudery myself, what was going on before my eyes, I didn’t want to. Skiing of memories, fragments of experiences ghosts through my awareness like countless puzzle pieces, which the right frame was missing. Papa had now forced mom to kneel and pressed her head into his lap. Mom opened his mouth and started sucking on Papa’s limb – defenseless, helpless, without pleasure and dedication.
Papa seemed to enjoy the scene. He got big and strong in her mouth and kept pushing his swollen trunk in her mouth. That was a facet of sexuality that I hadn’t known so far. For me, sex was always associated with fun and lust and joie de vivre and not with power and hatred and fainting.
Papa was now time again.
He threw mom on the ground and climbed her from above. How different the pictures were. A few hours ago my daddy was in me, slept with me and it was sensual, erotic and lustful. Now dad raped my own mom and it was scarf and empty and meaningless for me.
I cuddled into the ceiling because I was shivering. Mama let the lust and the excitement of my father endlessly ended up. It was spread out under him with spread legs and closed eyes. Something was wrong with the whole scene.
Why did Papa sleep so sensitively and lovingly with me and so coarse and roughly with his own wife. I already knew he would say because she had had him in bed for all of the married life, warded it off and kept at a distance. But why the whole thing. I looked at the naked body of mom and suddenly I knew with intuitive certainty: mom was so distant and prudish because she didn’t feel anything herself, had never felt anything.
Her own body was alien to her, she had never had a pleasurable confidence and trusted trust in her own sensuality and arousal. She had fended off dad all the decades because she did not want to be sensitive and insensitive to him every time and had to feel that all of this didn’t give her anything. I got hot under the narrow blanket. I got up like in a trance and went to the two.
Papa saw me come and looked at me threatening. I should keep out of here. I hardly shook my head and went to the left side of the two. I let myself down and lay down next to my mother’s bare body ..
I stayed quietly next to mom for a while.
After a while I could feel physically her fear and tension. So sex should not be – close eyes and ears and make themselves as small as possible in order not to offer much space for the feelings of fainting and hopelessness. Papa continued to field into mom. I think he was no longer concerned with pleasure and genus but about punishment and revenge.
The two had brought it far in their marriage. Careful and gently pushed a hand under my mom’s lumbar spine. They had known it for thousands of years – the backbone is a main connecting artery of the body and connects two essential energy centers with heads and pools. As I expected, it was feared.
The whole back of mom was tense, hard and cramped. How should she ever feel something like lust and excitement under these conditions. Papa now went to me with his loveless, mechanical bumps. If I had had the opportunity, I would have liked to push my big vibrator into the intestine without warning.
Perhaps it would be an apprenticeship for him to feel the dull and primitive bumps with which he maltreated mom.
I had to do something. What mom happened before my eyes was apparently the everyday My parents in bed. She had never had the opportunity to discover and develop her sensuality and he had given up at most to lovingly rewrite his own wife. Only, until tonight, it was the private matter of the two.
Despite all the prudery that my mother distinguished, she was a proud woman. She would never be able to overcome it that I had seen her in this embarrassing, hopeless situation. I just had to succeed in turning the scene around, the whole.
I gently grabbed my mother between her legs. It was the first time, that I had another female gender in my hand.
I play regularly with myself, kose and enjoy myself. But I had never felt the lap of another woman under my fingertips. Papa paused for a moment before a horny grin overturned his face. Two women in bed had to be a great challenge for an average man.
He was certainly looking forward to how things would go ..
When my lover spoils me or I stroke myself, I have the feeling that I was going out. My mouse is wet and slippery and I just can’t get enough.
My warm fingertips sought her labia in the thicket of her pubic hair. I felt the muscles in my cross tangled. Mom was dry and every movement, every push had to be in pain.
I felt like the accomplice with a shabby, dirty game. I had standed by the humiliations of my mother and now I was lying next to her while Papa pressed his limb into her. What people mutually do when they feel offended and injured ..
There is a form of tenderness that I enjoy very much and which after a short time gives me a climax: when my friend lovingly and extensively spoils my lap with his tongue and lips.
Papa was certainly not trusting this devoted form of tenderness right now. So I would try to give mom a new, lustful access to sexuality.
I slid down my mom’s body until my head was right next to her pool.
My father understood. He pulled his limb out of her and got up. His swollen trunk was proud and confident. I could no longer imagine the lust and devotion with which exactly this limb loved me.
I knew it from the massage.
The opening of mom would need time, time and feeling.
Before I managed to get in touch with mom, I had to have found myself, I had to gain a distance from the hurtful and sickly pictures in me.
Just like Mama now Dalag, I couldn’t just continue. Every movement, every caress would now be the continuation of the humiliation for them. I had to succeed in creating a completely new situation in a short time.
“Please get the duvet from your bedroom and also the orange blanket from the guest room!”
Father looked at me in astonishment and questioningly, but he would not get any additional information from me now.
Reluctantly, he got up and disappeared through the door. Mom opened her eyes and looked at me tortured.
With my index finger I closed her lips as gently as possible. You shouldn’t say anything, not be flooded by your own agony and dismay.
Papa had come back now. I took the blankets from him and spread them next to mom. I touched mom on my shoulder and moved slightly to me.
Following like a small child, she rolled onto the soft camp.
Mom lay on my stomach in front of me. I preferred it at the moment. So she could feel better on the feeling, feel sensible. Every personal eye contact would now only have torn old wounds open.
I knelt side next to her.
Papa had settled at the sofa and watched my hustle and bustle rather uncoverly.
I had to succeed in making touch, skin contact, sensuality for mom positively tangible . I rubbed my palms closely until they were finely warmed up. I sent all my attention and perception in my fingertips. I gently put my hands on my hands on the shoulders.
Her muscles immediately tensioned. I didn’t let it be irritated by it. Like two large, soft, warm islands, I left my hands on her shoulder area. I tried internally to feel the breathing rhythm of mom and hire myself on it.
I had closed my eyes and felt the smallest emotion under my fingers.
After half an eternity I felt mom relaxed. Now my moment had come. I started to massage her shoulder and neck area infinitely gentle and gently. Immediately she cramped and raised her head curiously.
Gently but definitely I pressed her head back on the blanket. My fingers slid over her back like the waves of the sea when the flood slaps on the sandy shores. With the thumb, I kept going to the curvature of your backbone. Somewhere in the spinal canal it was dammed up.
The lustful feelings from the pelvis were prevented from getting into the head, triggering genus and well -being. I drove off the contours of her body with my hands like a sculptor. I felt almost imperceptibly how mom leaning under my touches, began to wind lustfully.
Papa was quite lost so far and was sitting lonely on the sofa. I looked over to him and didn’t trust my eyes.
He was sitting there, with her legs spread, and self -forgotten his limb. He was sitting there like a little boy who got a fine toy and now researched all facets on it. The fine atmosphere in the room, mine sensual massage Apparently encouraged him to do so. So he was much better and closer to me.
The next crucial step was announced.
I didn’t want mom to be under my hands like a small child in the long run and could be massaged into the emotional nirvana. I wanted them to feel it, felt to feel, I wanted sexuality to become an intoxicating experience for them. To do this, she had to consider her situation. I put my hand on her shoulder and put on slightly.
Mom was warm and sluggish and wanted to stay like that. But I was not satisfied with that. Benevolently but definitely I turned her on my back. Only she was spread out below me and looked at me questioningly ….
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