Summer of Awakening

My father had been working abroad for years and rarely, every few months, came for weekend‐visits. After my mother died, young Isabella, whom father had taken with him from a trip abroad from Spain, had stayed with us, taking care of me and the household; I was about four years old at the time. We had moved into a small apartment, kitchen and living‐bedroom. The apartment was big enough for both of us, during the day we had the kitchen, at night we slept in the big bed. Isa had married my father, only sometimes they quarreled and my father said bad things that I didn't understand. He would have taken her off the street where she was still hustling today if he hadn't saved her.

Then I had to sit down at the kitchen table, he shut the door to the bedroom tight, and I heard the bed groan and squeak, they were humping so hard. Isa had explained these things, fucking and having children, to me many times, but now I was already 13 and too old to ask about it. But when Isa then came out of the room and tied her hair up, I realized how much the argument had hurt her.

Mostly, though, she was cheerful and smiled at me, because she liked the humping they did all weekend when he came to visit. Then she would quietly whistle pretty songs and rattle the dishes for quite a while until her father called her again.

She smiled broadly and put a finger over her lips, telling me to be quiet. When she was in a good mood, she made a fist and put her thumb between her fingers, that meant humping, and went to him smiling. When I was little, I asked her why she didn't get a baby in her belly when they fucked so much. She hugged me very sweetly and pressed me to her big bosom, then she said she couldn't have babies. And then why did they fuck so much? She laughed and said because it was a lot of fun, the humping. But I was much too small to understand all that.

Of course, I didn't know then how lonely a young woman in her late twenties could feel. While I was lazily lounging at school, she was cleaning 5 hours a day for some rich women and needed the afternoon to relax, read or write diaries. She had few girlfriends and to my knowledge never cheated on father. I was too young to understand that sometimes only a sneaky sip from the bottle can relieve loneliness, of course I also knew nothing about her two faces of her sexuality – bigoted and anxious one – horny, obscene and sex addict the other. It was only much later that I realized that she had become hopelessly addicted to drinking and obsessive masturbation during her years of loneliness.

When I was young, of course, we slept naked in the summer. I enjoyed it very much, because we wrestled on the big bed and played innocuous games. When I was young, nudity was natural and pleasurable for both of us, especially when Isa touched my little cock or the sack in the game or gently pulled back the skin and gently stroked the little glans. We played this all the time, because she obviously liked it a lot and I innocently enjoyed it when she played with my little cock.

I also loved the sucking game very much, when Isa took my little cock in her mouth and played with her tongue on the glans. We loved it very much because her tongue made him a little stiff, and when she kept playing with her tongue, the little cock throbbed pleasantly in her mouth. We played this for a long time, but when I was about 13, the little cock turned into a really big cock that I was very proud of, and that could already really squirt, as we discovered when we played wiggle. More and more often we played the sucking game, he was now really big in her mouth and the glans came out by itself, swollen thick from licking and tonguing. Then her tongue stopped for a moment because the cock and glans were already throbbing nicely and pleasantly. She tongued again very finely, it spurted out of the glans in bumps and she sucked and swallowed it all down and continued tonguing until it became quite soft. Once she said in a whisper that she liked the sucking game best, then she delicately took him out of her mouth and we played something else, mostly the good old wiggle game.

From time immemorial we both loved it when I lay on her naked body, her belly and wiggled my bottom back‐ and forth. We held each other warmly, cuddled innocently and my butt wiggled. From an early age, I lay on her belly and wiggled more and more wildly and she acted as if she had lost in this fight. She first put her arms to the side, then the kicking rage made her legs spread away just as sideways and danced like a madman on her pubic and frizzy hair. Until the little cock stiffened halfway and groped its way forward. I soon realized that I found the little hole better when I pulled the foreskin all the way back over the glans and then it slid in almost by itself. Isa always smiled when the little cock found its way into the hole all by itself. The winner was the one whose little cock found its way into the hole.

Isa usually lay there with her eyes closed and seemed to listen to herself, sometimes her hand stole between us and stroked itself down there. Beautiful minutes passed, allowing me to feel and feel the fine, warm little hole until my little cock stiffened and became quite stiff. It never took long for my little cock to start throbbing and throbbing violently before it went completely limp again. Isa always waited until it was soft and then pulled it out, hugged me very sweetly and cuddled my head, he already wants to fuck, she murmured, but you can't squirt yet. She always said that when my little cock was throbbing in her little hole. It was always a wonderful game. We played this game, over and over again, also because the end, the little cock throbbing in the little hole, felt so wonderful.

As I got older, my cock became stiff by wiggling on her warm body, then she became quiet and said: "He wants to fuck now already", but we are not allowed to, mother with son. I corrected her growling, stepmother with stepson and did not take it seriously. Nevertheless, we played the wiggle game further and I was completely surprised when I once became quite dizzy‐nice and I poured out on her belly.

Isa explained everything to me in great detail, why it was squirting and that the babies were swimming around tiny and invisible in my slime. I was very proud and reassured and we just kept playing the sucking game and the wiggling game, from now on with squirting as the end. Isa pulled me during the wiggle game mostly again well‐behaved higher when I tried to get deeper to her frizzy hair and murmured, "he already wants to fuck", but we were not allowed to. Still, she spread her legs while wiggling, because she really enjoyed it when I wiggled and wiggled on her pubic and teased and played with her breast nipples with both hands.

My little cock was getting bigger every day and it was just as much fun to put it in the little hole as it was with the little cock. When Isa was already breathing very hard after the wiggling and the breast nipple teasing and I pulled the foreskin back over the glans, Isa gasped, yes don't fuck, yes don't squirt! and closed her eyes because she obviously also liked it very much when I slid into the little hole. In the beginning, when I still had the small cock, she didn't notice at all that I squirted, because I excited her very much with the breast nipple play and stuck in her little hole for a long time to squirt until the end. That was the advantage of the little cock. Later she was much more on guard and I had to be very skillful in teasing her nipples that she was distracted and didn't notice the squirting until it was too late.

Isa always watched me carefully and said, don't fuck! and don't squirt! I obeyed, I knew very well that we were not allowed to fuck. So I didn't fuck, yet I felt him getting stiffer and stiffer and then squirting as soon as he throbbed. Isa grabbed it, pulled it out quickly and said don't squirt, but it squirted all over her belly and I enjoyed it very much. I soon learned to pretend and fool Isa by teasing her nipples really great, so she didn't notice the squirting until it was way too late. She was then always very sad and said that we were not allowed to do that, but when I had made her gasp while wiggling, she nevertheless opened her thighs and the little hole. I liked it very much to put my cock in her hole and start squirting there. Isa kept saying don't fuck, don't squirt, but I mostly managed it.

I was a dear little boy who led his stepmother step by step down a devilish path.

Until I was about 12, the wiggle game of squirting was all right, we would jockey and wrestle until I won and squirted in the little hole. Between 12 and 14 my little cock grew, and Isa always admonished me that we must not fuck before I squirted. I teased and caressed her breasts and nipples, then she opened her thighs with a gasp and let me squirt in the hole. At about 13, she liked my thick cock very much and, with her hands on my buttocks, pressed me very deep into her hole and sighed as if she wanted to pass away. When she was very aroused by my breast play, she would press me rhythmically into her little hole by my buttocks until I squirted. We're not allowed to do that, she sighed afterwards, but we did it anyway, right after that. We repeated these wiggle games two or three times a day, and gradually stopped when I turned 14.

She changed and didn't want it anymore, she wanted to do the sucking game more and more often. One day I once again made it deep into her slit, but Isa was on guard and grabbed my hard‐on, pulled it out with two fingers and held it while I rumbled until I squirted. That became the new game, I wiggled my butt until it was stiff and made a deceptive attack on her pubic, and usually "unintentionally" managed to penetrate her slit. But Isa rarely wanted it anymore, grabbed it immediately and let me ram between her fingers to my heart's content and squirt on her belly. Pretty soon I wanted a second time or more, Isa smiled sweetly and let me squirt between her fingers as often as I wanted.

Meanwhile, I had learned with friend Willi and little Anni the Selberonanieren and fucking, these adventures were a secret that we were not allowed to tell anyone. I looked at Isa with completely new eyes when I looked at her nakedness. She was not very tall except for her breasts, her beautiful brown wavy hair reached almost to her hips. She was a bit fatter than Anni, who was skinny, but not as fat as Hildegard. I mean, she was at most a little chubby. Below her belly button, the dark, curly hair parted to the side above the pubic cleft. Between them, the raised mons pubis was completely hairless, so you could always see her thickly swollen slit with the labia spilling out when she was naked. I had seen this pubic fold many times, but except for the large, almost brown labia, I had never been able to see anything more specific. I was already as a little one behind to examine her there more exactly, which she repelled mostly brightly laughing.

Our sucking‐ and wiggling games gradually stopped when I was about 14. Now she seemed embarrassed when we cuddled naked in bed. Every now and then, even after I turned 14, we would do the wiggle game with squirting when I got her breasts and nipples very aroused. Since I stayed well‐behaved and didn't make any fucking movements, I didn't squirt. But she helped by grabbing my butt cheeks to rhythmically push me into her little hole until I squirted. This is not fucking, she whispered, this is not fucking! The bigger and thicker my cock got, the more she moaned and gasped, pressing it into her little hole and whispering that we mustn't do it. But on such evenings we did it two or three times in a row, me with her breasts, her with the cock in her little hole.

After that, there was no wiggle play for several weeks. I lay masturbating next to her, feeling her abdomen and breasts. After a while, she responded to my breast stimuli, sighing and moaning as I very delicately and gently teased her clit. She remained iron for weeks and sighed deeply when I squirted. But as soon as she overcame her bigoted bourgeois resistance, she interrupted my masturbation and pulled me onto her belly. Impatiently, she plugged the hard‐on into her vagina and rhythmically pressed me into her womb. I held still because we were not allowed to fuck. Only she was allowed to push my cock in and out of her vagina and let it squirt, that wouldn't be fucking, she assured me. Mostly she gasped after my second squirt and moaned miserably before jerking violently. "Uaah!". Stars twinkled in her eyes as she masturbated my cock afterward. Almost gleefully she said we must not fuck, not fuck at all! Then followed a break of several weeks without this beautiful wiggle game.

Of course we didn't fuck, I wasn't even 15 yet, but if her horniness had conquered her bigoted bourgeoisie, it couldn't go fast enough for her to get to her pleasure. I really did not fuck and remained completely passive. But I enjoyed very much that she pressed my cock inside her, it was rhythmically pressed into her vagina and that was a wonderful feeling. In, out, for half an hour. Even while squirting, she kept going and usually got to her wriggling "Uaah!" after the second squirt. She left my cock in her vagina and masturbated me, because I had once said how fine squirting was inside her. When she wasn't masturbating me, she was teasing my butt hole, sticking a finger in and humping me. That immediately triggered my squirting. She had found that out while playing wiggle. So it was, we really didn't fuck, I wasn't even 15.

She sometimes half‐‐heartedly whispered that I was old enough to sleep alone after all. More and more often she refused the wiggle, telling me to do it myself if it was so urgent.

At 13, it was still very different when I masturbated. Only slowly did she get used to our naked bodies touching when I masturbated – I couldn't understand her new shyness at all. Was it because of the masturbation? She was not at all surprised that I masturbated quite often before going to sleep. On the first few days, she sat up and watched me masturbate and squirt with curiosity and attention. Then she would smile with an encouraging nod of her head when I masturbated again after a few minutes break, but later she would lie quietly next to me and doze, smiling.

Very late one afternoon, while we were both reading a book, I asked her why it is said that all boys masturbate and only a few girls masturbate. First she explained to me that masturbating and masturbating are the same thing. And that it comes from the biblical man named Onan, who, according to the laws of the time, had to marry his dead brother's widow and make her children. So Onan was supposed to fuck Tamar so she could have a baby in her womb, I understood that. But Onan didn't want it and didn't fuck her, he just masturbated and splashed the semen on the floor. I understood everything and we laughed happily about the stupid Onan, who partout did not want to fuck.

Then Isa became serious again and said that probably just as many girls as boys masturbated. She completely misinterpreted my doubtful look and said "Look!" She lifted both legs spread on the bench, flipped up her summer skirt and told me to look. Then she pointed to each treasure and said what they were called, although we've learned that before from time to time. Mound of Venus, labia, vagina. Now she pulled the labia apart a bit, pointed to the clit and said you could also say clitoris. I had leaned forward and tried to make out anything in the dim light.

She said the boys masturbate with their dicks, the girls with their clits. My cock made a huge bulge in my gym shorts, which Isa noticed, of course. Whether she could do it times she overheard, sat down again and asked, the hand gently on my bulge, whether it was so urgent now, whether I had to do it to me right away? I nodded with a lump in my throat and mumbled lyingly that I could see almost nothing in the dark kitchen. Isa said "okay!" and went ahead, to the bed, quickly took off the dress and turned on the bedside lamp.

I also undressed and lay half propped up in bed. Isa sat down opposite me, first cross‐legged, then with her legs spread and said that this way I could look at everything very closely in the light and it was totally okay for her if I wanted to look at her while masturbating. I masturbated that evening as often as never, looked horny between her wide open legs and on her beautiful naked sex, that let me continue unceasingly. When I was already almost from squirting, her finger tongued on the labia, pulling the skin aside so that her clit became visible. I saw very clearly how it slowly lifted and became quite stiff. Isa stroked the stiff clit, lost in thought, and I immediately had to squirt. I asked in a whisper if the girls masturbated like that? Isa nodded and immediately took her finger away in shame. She nodded encouragingly and I continued, because it made me totally squirty‐horny, because she immediately overcame her bigoted shamefulness and thoughtfully stroked her clit, very slowly and delicately, all evening, until I could no longer. Just look, she had said, we girls masturbate like this, just watch! I looked and looked, while I continued to masturbate. Often she would press one hand very firmly on her pubic area because her abdomen and legs were twitching violently, then after a short pause she would continue and very gently tease her clit with her finger. I got before I fell asleep that she drank one‐two sips from the bottle in the kitchen, then came back to bed and waited a bit, and then quietly and gently continued to stroke her clit.

I had long known that she always drank in the evening, but other than the smell, it never bothered me. Isa tolerated my nocturnal shenanigans in the dark, later just holding out her hand as a warm shell in which I tossed back and forth and poured myself blissfully, with which I was also satisfied for a while (today, I think she held out her hand so that the sheet wouldn't splatter too much – she always had an old towel by her hand from then on to wipe away the mess). Sometimes I did try to press myself against her and my cock into her frizzy hair, but since I could squirt, she was on guard and careful not to let me turn around to face her. Except when she had been drinking a lot, she often felt like playing the wiggle game.

As long as I lay dutifully with my back to her, everything was no problem and wonderful. She pressed my back against her, as much as I liked to wriggle while masturbating. Because I was so hurried and demanding, she would reach around my waist with a sigh and hold my abdomen, holding my hard‐on in her hand as I jerked excitedly in her warm palm, and when it squirted, she would hold her breath. A few times, when she was very drunk, I begged until she good‐naturedly gave me a hand job.

She didn't seem to be a bit surprised that it excited me a lot when I touched her beautiful, soft body. Long ago I didn't stay well‐behaved with my back to her, palpating more and more often her beautiful, round breasts and pressing my hard‐on against her body while jerking off, pressing it everywhere and only giving a rest when she repulsed me while poking and masturbating in her frizzy hair. But if I did not touch the forbidden triangle and remained careful, she sometimes hugged me very hot and let me squirt no matter where. Surrendered, I rolled to the side, because after this excitement I wanted nothing more than to jerk off again immediately.

We both sometimes could not fall asleep, the summer was very hot and she had had a great thirst, then she stroked me shyly and carefully until I got an erection. She held me tenderly and cuddled up to me from behind and stroked my balls while I hastily jerked off. Sometimes I stopped jerking in the middle, then she pressed my back against her chest and reached for my cock.

She slowly and thoughtfully slid the foreskin up and down as I whispered secrets from my daily routine. And she loved my turgid, erotic and very detailed confessions, I soon realized. When I had confessed, she sighed deeply and shook the cock very quickly from the wrist that it just splashed! Then she immediately turned to the wall, as if she was ashamed. But from now on I wanted nothing else and tried to tell her something as often as something happened or I thought of something, otherwise I just thought of something just to get to a handjob.

My god, was she good at it! I almost got addicted to getting that cock shaken out of her wrist real quick! A few times, when I was too impatient because she – got that with – too drunk, she sat up cross‐legged, pulled me energetically toward her, and laid me across her naked lap. She mumbled mischievously winking as if she were evil and masturbated me quickly and brutally, but after I squirted she caressed me, bent down and kissed and licked my glans. It definitely wasn't a blowjob, but a gentle kissing and licking before she took it all the way into her mouth and gently sucked on it. "I love this" she murmured and played with the glans with her tongue until I had an erection again, which she masturbated again "playing the brute". We repeated this game quite often, because she loved to suck on my cock and she only let go of me when, despite the long, fine tongue play in her mouth, I no longer became stiff and simply could not squirt. Unfortunately, she made these beautiful games with her mouth only rarely.

Since that summer and its events at the latest, I looked at her with different eyes. However, as curiously as I watched her, I didn't find out for a long time when she did "it" and why she hid "it" so carefully from me. I often thought of the girls in our secret society who condescendingly told us boys that they – of course, you doofuses! – rubbed together when we (the boys) weren't around – I knew better, but kept my mouth shut. But Isa seemed different from them, was busy and industrious during the day, but quiet and secretive at night; I wanted to imagine in my fantasies that she was doing "it" – but when? I wanted desperately to watch her do it, to stay secretly awake – but at night, after I had splashed often enough, I always slept away exhausted.

One evening everything went wrong. Isa had remained seated at the table and drank, which she rarely did so openly. I could see from her eyes that in them burned the insatiable fire of horniness. I recognized her restlessness, as from time to time she pushed the light summer dress back and forth on her thigh and briefly touched her pubis with her hand. In her soft, beautiful voice, she admonished me that it was time to go to bed. As much as I struggled to squirt that night, I just couldn't. Later, when Isa undressed, got into bed and noticed my desperation, she pressed me gently to her chest and tentatively and shyly felt for me. She asked again what was wrong. I evaded, but she persisted, stroking me gently, up and down, while I told her everything – or almost everything – about that afternoon, for that had also aroused me greatly. She kept asking, listening, and masturbating me silently, and I had to tell her the rest too, after which she rubbed the foreskin back and forth really fast until it squirted.

It wasn't enough though, so after a while I whispered that I needed it again, then I crawled onto her belly and hugged her tenderly and gently. It must have been because of her drunkenness that she sighed and tentatively opened her thighs. I lay excitedly on her belly because my cock, impatiently seeking her slit, was still dripping wet from squirting and her pubic cleft, wet and slippery, was soon completely smeared with my semen. She hugged me and cuddled me very sweetly until she noticed what I was doing and began to tremble violently.

I had to tell her again what I had done quite exactly, while I slid a tiny bit deeper into the wet slit as if by accident. She reached out to stop me, but she pressed her abdomen against me trembling at the same time and asked in a whisper how it was today, pushing the cock firmly back and forth with her hand, jerking off, even though the glans was still stuck in her's a bit. Hoarsely I confessed new, invented and horny things. Immediately she pressed it a little deeper into her trembling abdomen, jerking it firmly with every movement. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to notice that I was squirting very hard.

In between, she kept pausing and pulling it out, taking the stiffy in her hand and rubbing the glans firmly on her clit and labia, at the same time rotating her ass in circles. Then she continued rubbing with hasty strokes from her wrist and again pressed the glans firmly into the opening of the vagina, letting it slide in just a tiny bit, just the glans, although her body trembled incessantly. I was silent with excitement, because she was trembling a lot, while she kept jerking me more and more determinedly. Again, she didn't seem to notice that I was thrusting and squirting again as she did so. She had her eyes closed and was jerking me as if it was her own cock she was masturbating.

Only now I noticed that she was stroking the clit with her other hand and in between she forgot the cock for a moment – she masturbated us both alternately and simultaneously. Then again, she rubbed my hard‐on in between so furiously fast that it squirted juicy a few times, although my whole glans was still stuck in her vagina. I thrust and squirted as hard as I could, but she kept masturbating herself as if she hadn't noticed the squirting. As she shook even more violently with excitement, she realized that she wasn't ready for this step and convinced herself that I hadn't noticed her masturbating. She immediately stopped secretly masturbating and pulled out the glans with a sigh, but so slowly that a little bit still squirted over her pubic cleft and the tired rest from the squirting little monster overflowed her pubic cleft.

I lay panting next to her and whispered excitedly, that was almost like real fucking. She shrank a little and shook her head, no, no, that was not a real fucking, because we are not allowed to! That I squirted on her pubic, that's not fucking, she said persistently shaking her head, no, just on the outside, that's not fucking! For the hundredth time she whispered powerlessly that we had to stop all this because otherwise it would end in disaster. Since she seemed to want to keep her masturbation a secret, I didn't bring it up, although a thousand questions ran through my mind. I was now quite sure that she had not even noticed from all the excitement that I had really injected quite a lot of semen several times. I felt the trembling of my stepmother for a long time and smiled because we had almost fucked properly and because I had injected a very small amount. No, because I had squirted into really hard! Isa was still shaking and crying bitterly.

Lying there like a slain man, I started crying because I had done such a despicable thing, taking advantage of her drunkenness for what I thought was real fucking. Isa hid under the covers and cried as well. My God, she sobbed softly, my God! After a while she dragged herself staggering into the kitchen and made coffee, and I could see through the open door as she drank coffee and then washed her cunt, crying. She pulled with her index finger the semen from her vagina and it was quite a lot. She had masturbated me for a long time and made me squirt quite properly. I felt so miserable that I wanted to die. How could I do that to her! When she came back in, with hard, dismissive eyes and lay down in bed silently, I howled again, my heart full of anxiety and fear, until she broke the silence and whispered that it wasn't my fault, then she stroked my hair. I understood nothing and howled myself to sleep, whimpering.

Isa had relegated me the other day to an improvised mattress bed on the floor at the foot of her bed. She seemed serious that I was too old to sleep with her. My begging look pained her greatly, and she stroked my hair with her hand, murmuring that it was not my fault. But it was no consolation, for she seemed unable to forgive herself ‐ and perhaps me ‐ that we had almost fucked properly. Even with Willi I found no consolation, because he was busy with all his thoughts only with fucking. Anni, whom I used to rape a few times with Willi's help, despised me. I went to her and Willi less and less often, because in the meantime I also began to despise myself.

I became angry at the whole world, especially at the women who led me only for the worse ‐ Hildegard, Anni, Mrs. Ogawa and Isa as well. I was really angry and despairing when I sat up in the improvised crib and guessed the outline of her body in the night darkness. When the moon shone, I could see everything. I would lie awake half the night waiting to see if she moved; then I would straighten up at the foot of her bed and look at her. Usually she turned around several times in the dream and pressed herself against the ceiling as if against a lover. I realized quite clearly that she was masturbating silently and with pleasure, although she seemed to be asleep. I looked at the dimly visible outline of her back and legs; but most of all I liked to look at her buttocks when she was lying on her stomach masturbating and masturbating silently. Sometimes I would stay awake for hours until she was lying on her stomach and sticking her butt out while masturbating, doing it to herself two or three times. It was very lonely and very sad, each masturbating for himself and not letting the other participate. One night I couldn't stand it anymore and lay down next to the sleeping one.

What is it, she asked, rising from her sleep and pushing me away until I had to sit down on the edge of the bed to keep from falling off. I can't sleep, I said, stroking the covers with one hand, feeling the outline of her body. "Don't do that," she hissed, pulling back even further; "stay in your bed, and that's final!"

I can't sleep, I said the next night, as I sat down on the edge of her bed. What is it, she asked, pulling the covers up under her chin. So many things happen, I whispered slyly, waiting impatiently. What's happening, she asked promptly, and I said I could lie down next to her and tell her everything. She hissed at me not to even think about it and pulled the blanket even tighter around her body.

I was frozen in place, staying still and waiting. After a while, I felt that she was no longer so dismissive and began to tell the story about Mrs. Ogawa. Isa whispered very angrily that she had not thought that, that the old Japanese woman had seduced me, and for the first time I heard her say really bad words about the old filthy Japanese whore who fucked young underage innocent boys, and so on. But then she listened again until I stopped in the middle. Of course, she had already become very curious about how it went on, but I now begged her to do it to me with her hand. She shook her head in denial and vigorously insisted that I get back into the crib. I obeyed sadly and defiantly. Now I lay again lonely and rejected on my floor cot, crying with self‐pity.

It was not fair! Yes, I had fucked her that drunken night, I had violated the longstanding ban on fucking. She had given in the first time, had indicated that I could do whatever I wanted with her. But it was not the first time. When we played what was left of the wiggle game and she eagerly thrust my cock in and out to orgasm, she would become unfocused just before and let go with one hand to trigger orgasm on her clit with rapid rubbing. When she forgot to push me in and out, in these seconds I fucked very briefly, which she usually did not notice. Or if she did notice, she allowed it generously and at most made a comment afterwards that this was not real fucking, although I was quite sure I had fucked her. She simply allowed this short, quick fucking because she was focused on her clit. I rarely needed to fuck for more than a minute to make my squirt.

Or, when she fucked me in the butt with a finger, I fucked unobtrusively, all the time. Also there she concentrated on her finger and said nothing that I fucked her the whole time until I squirted. This usually took a long time, and I moved only very inconspicuously, so that it did not look like real fucking. When I squirted, however, I still had to fuck very hard, but because it usually coincided with her orgasms, it was lost in the surging and twitching. I thought I was very clever to remain immobile in her vagina after squirting, she grabbed my butt cheeks and pushed me in and out a few times. Then my cock went limp and she pushed me down. She still sometimes admonished me not to fuck, even though I did keep fucking, but she never made a fuss like she did now. Fucking while wiggling she tolerated and didn't scold, but that I had fucked her properly while drunk she didn't take well. I just couldn't understand being allowed to fuck a hundred times during the wiggle play, but now it was suddenly an unforgivable mistake.

I thought about the time before the almost real fucking. Somehow she was excited and aroused greedy every day for weeks, made me kneel between her thighs and masturbated me. She always noticed early when I was going to squirt and pulled me forward by my cock, with a soft wailing sound she pushed it into her vagina. She smiled as I fucked her for a few minutes and then squirted, liberated and released. Afterwards she hugged me and whispered in my ear, after your birthday, when you're 16, we'll fuck properly! Daily it was she who asked me to kneel between her thighs. At first she only pushed my glans into her vagina and masturbated me, and when the squirting announced itself, she pushed it very deep into the vagina, because she really liked to be squirted in the vagina. Soon she changed everything again, as soon as the glans was in her vagina, she started to masturbate the clit. I was now humping her the whole time she was climaxing. When her orgasm approached, her face would contort until it turned into a diabolical twitching grimace as she climaxed. Then she relaxed and, smiling, let me continue fucking her until she squirted. We repeated it every day until that goddamn evening. She enjoyed it very much and didn't consider this violent fucking before squirting as real fucking. Poppycock, that's not fucking, she assured me, because she didn't want it yet. She sometimes lightly bit my earlobe and murmured in my ear, later, my boy, later! That didn't help me, I was impatient and wanted it as fast as I could. And when she was so drunk, I almost did it and was banished to this stupid mattress. It just wasn't fair!

In the first light of morning I woke up and stared over at her. She was lying naked on her stomach with one bent knee across the blanket. She lay like a rider on the scrunched up blanket, stretching the soft curve of her butt back. I straightened up and saw the curl of pubic hair under the crease of her ass. She stirred sometimes like a dreaming dog and pressed her abdomen against the blanket. I suspected that she was dreaming of fucking. I was electrified, crawled to the foot of her bed and stared at her slit, which she kept pressing hard against the crumpled blanket. I bent over as far as I could and looked at her half‐open cunt. Her clit had come out wide again and was almost as long as a finger limb, now she kept jabbing it hard and hard against the blanket while she dreamed. Suddenly she rammed wildly against the ceiling for a few seconds, then began to masturbate, her hand wriggling under her belly. She was sound asleep, her abdomen twitching pumpingly. My heart was pounding wildly, for she had had another orgasm in her dream!

For the next few days I slept almost not a minute and watched her half the night; she always woke up because she had become very horny in the dream, pushed the blanket away and masturbated very quietly and silently, sometimes two or three times before falling asleep again. Whenever she had had an orgasm, she lifted her head to see if the boy was asleep. He was always sound asleep, of course! Calmed down, she lay down again, spread her bent legs and masturbated with concentration. Only rarely did she stop after the first time, usually she masturbated two or three times, for hours and very, very quietly. It was a surprising and exciting discovery that Isa masturbated every night, every night! Of course, I had seen her masturbate before. But her excitement had to be high and fit the whole thing for her to do it in my presence. But that she did it every night, I found out only now.

Throughout the summer it thundered, it got hot and humid, and I still slept on the mattress – it was an excellent observation post. In the evening, when we went to bed, it was still light, and Isa always read in the evening until dark. I had been a secret observer of her nightly orgasms for a few days, she soon didn't look so stern, and when she read sitting at the table she didn't pay much attention to the position of her legs, so I could always see her pubic or vaginal fold. It excited me more and more, and I began to masturbate secretly, although it was still quite light. After a while I noticed that she was mostly watching me inconspicuously. Although I usually fell asleep immediately afterwards, I soon woke up again because she was masturbating quite loudly at night. Immediately I understood the connection that my masturbating could trigger a violent arousal with her. From now on I gave up all secrecy and masturbated exhibitionistically on my mattress for all it was worth. And then put me asleep, lying in wait like a spy.

My calculation worked out. Isa read on for a few minutes, blinking over at me to see if I was fast asleep yet. Of course I was, sound asleep. Even as she read, her fingers played a bit with a nipple, tonguing to her cleft or clit. Then she put the book aside with a sigh, quickly undressed and lay down on the bed. She spread her bent legs wide and masturbated. When her arousal increased and she closed her eyes, put her head to the side and masturbated faster, I knew she no longer heard or saw anything. Then I sat up or crawled cautiously closer at the foot of the bed to see everything very closely. With Hildegard, I had guessed more than seen from a distance, and Anni had a tiny vagina with a tiny little clit that you almost couldn't see. But now I looked at everything very closely, how it looked like and how she did it.

Where Anni had two small bulges protecting the vagina from prying eyes, thick flaps of skin hung down on her; two large, thick and wrinkled labia. Between them, a hood‐like fold of skin descended from above, under which the clitoris was hidden. To masturbate, she pushed this protective fold of skin all the way back with her thumb, so that the clit came out like a little fingertip, and she masturbated that with her index finger, very gently and lightly. The clit got hard and stiff and nodded back and forth like a little ball that won't and won't submerge in the bathtub, but she kept going and kept the little ball dancing until she orgasmed.

As she approached orgasm, her flat hand circled in an oval motion, the splayed fingers pressed on the clit, and at the end, when her abdomen began to undulate, she additionally pressed two fingers of the other hand into the vagina and fucked herself, quite firmly and quickly – as I noticed over time, she very rarely fucked herself. Now the orgasm broke loose, she breathed her pressed suppressed "Uuuchs!" and "Aaachs!" and pressed the fucking fingers only irregularly and jerking into the vagina; now, however, it was also time for me to disappear again inconspicuously in the crib and put myself to sleep, but it had to go quickly, as long as she still kept her hand pressed on her pubic and let her arousal gasp out. Almost always, after a brief pause, she did it again, or twice, before falling asleep, firmly and deeply satisfied. Of course I couldn't fall asleep, not after such excitement. Soon I heard her breathing deeply or snoring a bit, so I could still get quick relief.

Of course, Isabella had noticed from the start that he was secretly watching her masturbate from his mattress. She pretended not to notice him, and in doing so had added horny excitement of flaunting herself masturbating. Generally she considered her masturbating intimate and private and only did it secretly, not in front of him, but sometimes she felt disinhibited and did it then. Especially now that he was relegated to the mattress, it gave her a special thrill to let him watch. In her masturbation fantasies, she thought back to when he had played the then innocent wiggle game as a little boy. How he would pause and enjoy the throbbing and throbbing of his penis in her vagina. As long as he couldn't squirt, it was no special thing to her and the rotten moralist in her conscience.

His penis remained a willowy boy's penis even when he could squirt. Her moral conscience stirred, however, and she had to admonish him not to fuck. With that her conscience was quieted, he danced like a will‐o'‐the‐wisp on her pubic, and when it rose in him, he pushed his slender boy‐dick into her vagina to squirt. Sometimes she was already so aroused herself that she left his cock in her vagina and masturbated. The morally insane conscience made its judgment afterwards that she was a depraved slut if she masturbated so publicly and exhibited herself so exhibionistically to her son. The months flew by, his cock grew, became longer and thicker. She seduced him until he put it inside her. He obeyed the ban on fucking, but could no longer squirt "on his own". She pushed him in and out herself, letting him squirt in her vagina and her vagina signaled, with a cock like that you could orgasm already! Startled, she stopped and brought herself to orgasm with her fingers. And so the weeks and months flew by with sinful goings‐on.

She struggled with the terrible inner conflict, because against the fierce resistance of her petty‐bourgeois, bigoted conscience, she slowly and carefully manipulated him in the direction of fucking. For squirting, he was allowed to fuck a little at first. Every day she moved this limit further forward, the little bit became more. The longer he fucked her, the more often she came to the orgasm she had missed so much. Of course she said afterwards that it was not a real fucking, because they were not allowed to do that. Her guilty conscience often forced her to take a break from fucking for weeks, then she gave him nice hand and mouth jobs because she wanted to soothe her conscience. He was so frugal, her dear boy never made demands. Squirting, yes, it had to be done, but he didn't care that much what led to squirting.

In the months leading up to the drunken night, she kept manipulating him, saying that they weren't allowed to fuck and that yesterday, no, that wasn't really fucking at all. Every night her horniness took over, she lay down comfortably, spread her thighs and began to delicately and gently stroke her clit. After a few minutes of greedy watching, he knelt between her thighs with his cock hard as a board and penetrated. He fucked slowly and deliberately, because it was never allowed to look like fucking, she had inculcated that in him. Of course, before he squirted, he lost control and fucked her so hard that she had to hold her violently jiggling breasts with both hands. Of course it took him longer and longer each day to get wild before squirting. Of course she enjoyed it very much and assured him this was really good and by no means fucking. If he went slow and deliberate, at least at first, it certainly wouldn't be real fucking. Yes, she could sometimes explain well that they were actually just masturbating together, he in her vagina, she with her fingers on her clit. Isa sometimes doubted whether he believed her. Her conscience, in any case, tormented her a lot, because she knew what fucking and not fucking was and that she had to stop it somehow. She would get two or three orgasms before his erection went limp. It could last an hour or more, because as long as his erection lasted, she would pull him back to her after he squirted to continue non‐fucking. She stroked his face and implored him insistently that this was not real fucking. She also said it to silence her conscience, but she was aware that this was total bullshit. She still considered her masturbation private, but when she was very aroused, she did it, regardless of him watching her curiously. If he wasn't done yet, she continued masturbating until he finished cuming and usually longer if she still needed the orgasm. The horny feeling she felt when he watched her masturbate curiously, as if he was seeing it for the first time, was sometimes so strong that she made a point of masturbating again after he had gone limp, to reveal herself aroused and let him watch. Sometimes she whispered that they would do it right when he was old enough. Soon.

The mattress was gone the next morning. We slept naked on the bed again, of course, and when I was already dozing off after masturbating, I felt her masturbating, which she no longer hid as before. Yes, when I masturbated very intensely, sometimes she already began to masturbate and I soon squirted and watched her masturbate in the twilight. She was always introverted, deeply immersed and orgasmed beautifully after long masturbation. They were beautiful days, I waited to masturbate and we cuddled and I stroked Isa's beautiful pubic until her hand joined and she bent her legs. Then we masturbated together, watching each other. Isa smiled and seemed happy to masturbate as often as she wanted.

She later sat down at the table where she slowly drank one glass after another while I gradually fell asleep. I was soon to realize that drinking completely disinhibited her.

In the night I woke up because it seemed to me that I felt hasty movements next to me. The bedside lamp was still burning dimly. Suddenly I was awake, feeling her quick, violent movements and her excitement. I smelled the pungent smell of liquor she gave off and felt her heart beating furiously, the fire blazing under her skin. Driven by curiosity, I turned all the way to her and groped her curiously, but she didn't like that at all now and turned away energetically, toward the wall.

I saw from the movements of her upper arm that she immediately continued. Instantly she froze as I touched her, as my groping fingers touched her sweaty, feverishly trembling body. I continued to palpate her even though she had curled up and turned away. She wanted to continue to withdraw and was already pushing against the wall, but as I stroked her nipples and then her cunt, she gradually began to sigh and gasp deeply again and no longer resisted.

She was totally drunk and I was quite sure that I could do anything with her today. Anything. Really anything. I was insanely excited.

Slowly she turned on her back again and tentatively opened her thighs, opened to her hand, later spread her thighs very wide. Despite my excitement, I instinctively got that this was doing her good and that she couldn't stop by now.

I lay diagonally behind her, pressed against her butt, and reached my hand around her waist to bury my fingers deep in her wet pussy. I stroked and rubbed, she groaned and moaned, but after a while I stopped irritated when our fingers suddenly touched. Never before had I experienced her so sexually aroused from such close quarters, her masturbation had a violent and exciting effect on me and this arousal was contagious. With the wet hand that had just rummaged in her wet pussy, I turned her a little to the side, pushed forward all horny, then directed my cock along her ass crease until my cock touched her labia. I paused, stuck with my glans cowardly waiting between the outer labia, just a tiny little piece and only so far in that I could feel quite clearly how her labia danced back and forth with the rapid movement of her fingers.

At last, I thought excitedly, finally we fucked properly, but she seemed to have forgotten me completely and masturbated impatiently gasping and stepping away further. I groped excitedly with the glans further inside, reached the vagina and got stuck only a few millimeters inside. I dared only a careful in and out, only a few centimeters deep, because further I did not dare, and unsettled I was also, because she was completely absent and masturbated absorbed in herself. Hooray, I fuck, I'm a very little bit right inside and the wonder of feeling her jerk off with the glans! I fucked only very gently, centimeters only, and concentrated on feeling her masturbating more and more violently, which continued for a very long time.

After long minutes she orgasmed loudly and pressed her butt down hard, so that the vagina jerked over my glans, over my whole cock, until it was stuck in very deep in her vagina, which scared me terribly. It felt like a warm, wet slug was wrapping itself around my cock and licking it off with a hot tongue; like a mouth it pulsed around my cock and seemed to want to swallow it convulsively.

She thrust at me a few times, fucking me in rhythm with her orgasm; as if struck by lightning, I winced as I squirted, but she reached for me, for my ass, and pressed me paradoxly and firmly into her orgasm, deeply. I squirted and squirted and heard her moan and whimper in release; and only now, as she jerkily quivered and fucked my cock with her vagina, did I thrust all the way in, letting it squirt in further and further, pulsating, and only casually noticing that she was holding me with both hands and thrusting into her, again and again and again, until she climaxed once more, pumping violently.

But I was already past the point of no return. I was glad that she was so drunk and let me do everything with her, really everything. My almost completely stiff one was still sticking in her vagina and I had continued with careful humping movements the whole time. Although tears were slowly rolling out of her eyes, she sighed deeply, laid down more comfortably and opened her thighs for me with a godly, shame‐filled sigh. With a shy, drunken‐blurry look, her hand unsteadily guided the cock into her vagina and when I penetrated, she acknowledged it with a soft wailing sound and wept with horny, bigoted shame. With the other hand she held me by the buttock so that I did not slip off and pushed my cock deep inside her, opening the vagina very softly and willingly. I felt my cock getting stiff and big inside her and kept fucking, panting, for quite a while until she teased my butt hole in a demanding way, triggering my squirting.

She cried and smiled at me fully drunk. I knew I could do anything with her, she would let me do anything with her.

Minutes of silence, I was still quite stiff and making tiny humping motions to signal that it wasn't over yet. I could see that Isa was intoxicated and irritated and crying softly at the same time. I straightened up to rest on my knees and my hard‐on flopped out. By the way she reinserted my cock into her vagina with a soft wailing sound, I could tell that she was horny for fucking too. As I fucked her, I rhythmically pushed her knees apart and she pressed her abdomen against me in the same rhythm. It only took a few minutes before she was panting, moaning softly, and her vagina was milking my cock vigorously. Her "Uahhh!" gurgled only very softly, because she now held both hands in front of her face in deepest shame. Isa moaned and cried with bliss and stroked demanding and lovely my asshole, as always when she wanted to trigger my squirting faster. This erotic asshole‐humping she had trained me to do during wiggle play, so she could trigger my squirting when she wanted. It immediately rose hot inside me and I squirted really hard jets into her vagina and she cried softly as I squirted and squirted, thrusting and thrusting inside her vagina until my cock softened. Her crying gradually subsided, she eventually tiredly pushed me aside.

She knew that one day they would fuck. Isabella, of course, knew exactly what she was doing. The initially harmless wiggle games she found delightful, he could neither fuck nor squirt. Then, when he could squirt, she let him innocently wiggle his butt around and squirt for years. That wasn't fucking, she said, at least not real fucking. She kept repeating the mantra not to fuck as his dick got bigger and squirted juicily. The obedient boy stopped wiggling and became passive, but could no longer squirt on his own. Not wanting to invalidate her mantra, she took over the fucking, effectively using Jack's cock as a dildo. He seemed to enjoy it very much that she fucked herself with his cock and squirted into her vagina herself. His erection lasted up to three squirts and only then went limp. And he responded very directly to the irritation of his butt hole, enjoying being finger fucked each time. She took advantage of the fact that his little cock had already become quite a respectable big dick and could easily bring her to orgasm.

The procedure usually followed a pattern. When she felt the well‐known lascivious tugging in her loins after a two‐three week break, she took his hand, with which he had started to masturbate, and placed it on her breasts. He understood immediately and with both hands he teased her breasts and nipples, which she loved very much, until she was highly aroused. Then she briefly excited his cock and inserted it into her vagina. Each time, at the first penetration, a low wailing sound escaped her as his thick cock made its way into her vagina. With both hands she pushed it in and out, and after a short time it squirted. She continued without waiting, because now his erection lasted a long time until she got her orgasm. She triggered the squirting during her orgasm or immediately after with her finger in his asshole, the pumping and jabbing in her orgasming vagina did her so good! She kept going, sliding his cock in and out, hoping for a second orgasm. Mostly, though, she didn't get one, so she triggered his last squirt with finger fucking. She had to fuck now his asshole for several minutes until he squirted.

She knew that one day they would fuck. In her mind, she mixed the common bigotry and the legal age of consent. She planned to wait until his 16th birthday to fuck, until then she wanted to keep up appearances and continue the no‐longer‐innocent wiggle game. But the innocence was gone. She hadn't managed a third pass in months, even though she was aroused to the breaking point. Because she was concentrating only on her own orgasm, on her clit, he began to fuck. Very gradually it became natural for him to fuck until the third, final squirt. Yes, she enjoyed it, it was the anticipation of the time when they would finally fuck properly after his birthday. He rammed fast and greedily, wanting to cum quickly. She enjoyed it when his thick cock plowed into her vagina, often bringing herself to climax at the same time as him. It was always very fast, and she assured him on good days that it wasn't really fucking after all. He was always relieved, because when she said it, it wasn't real fucking either. She repeated it until she believed it herself. Mostly, though, she got annoyed, most of all that she liked it so much herself and never stopped him. She scolded him angrily that he shouldn't fuck her like this. But then she took his head in her hands and stroked his fuzzy head. It's all right, she said, we'll fuck one day, really fuck!

She knew that one day they would fuck. Two days before this drunken fuck, she tried to vary the scheme. Wait still, watch me, she said to him and lay spread wide. He knelt in front of her and watched her masturbate with obvious excitement and curiosity. She enjoyed it very much, moving her abdomen lasciviously and obscenely as she excited her clit. When she felt her orgasm rising, she shouted, yes, now! and he quickly penetrated her vagina. After only a few seconds he exploded and squirted in bursts, at the same time her orgasm overtook her. After a few seconds she was satisfied and slowed him down. Slowly, very slowly! she ordered, it should not look like fucking! Obediently, he immediately gave up his fast fucking and fucked very, very slowly. She enjoyed it very much, because this way her own arousal could rise gradually. This slow in and out, with a thick cock filling her vagina and also rhythmically including her labia and clit in his movements, excited her very much. Sometimes she stroked him, but mostly her breasts and her nipples. She stroked him and murmured that this was the right way, this was not fucking. She stroked him for probably half an hour until she started to gasp and moan. Now, yes, now it's coming to me! she gasped and he increased his thrusting and that triggered her orgasm immediately. She let her orgasm subside as he continued wildly and violently. She held her wildly rocking breasts with both hands. Seconds later, he squirted with his teeth clenched and his face contorted with effort. But he disobeyed when she whispered that he had to slow down now. He couldn't help it, he didn't pause and continued fucking just as wildly. Startled, she realized that she could not stop him. The violent in‐out of his thick cock reignited her arousal, she held her jiggling breasts with both hands and squeezed, squeezed and tugged at her nipples, for she felt the heat rising in her loins. "Uaah! Uaah!" escaped from her throat again and again, as the orgasm lasted for minutes because of the violent thrusting. He kept thrusting, she kept whispering for him to stop, but the constant in‐out made her gasp and moan in high excitement. He bared his teeth and grimaced as he finally cum. She felt his jerky orgasm, but didn't feel the familiar spurt of semen at all. He stayed inside her until his cock went completely limp. When he was lying next to her and had slowly regained his breath, she told him not to fuck her like he had just done. That was almost like real fucking, she said, and they weren't allowed to do that. He nodded wearily and said nothing, because he didn't understand. She stroked his cock and said that he was already doing it very well, she was already looking forward to when he was 16 and they could finally fuck properly. Afterwards they hugged and stroked each other gently until they fell asleep.

Yes, last night she had allowed, no, she had virtually seduced him in her intoxication that he fucked her. Annoying that she was so drunk and made it so clear to him that he could do anything to her, really anything. If she had been more sober, she wouldn't have done it. Isa didn't know exactly how to proceed now that Pandora's box had been opened. She resolved to wait until his birthday. She knew they would fuck one day.

One of the next few days, the time finally came. Isa was already rubbing herself very quickly and didn't notice anything, she was always introverted and out of it while masturbating. She also did not notice that I knelt between her thighs and carefully pushed my hard‐on closer. She was panting restlessly because her orgasm was approaching and I held my breath, because now she was rubbing so fast that I thought she could not stop, but during my careful advance into her pubic fold she cringed.

What are you doing, she cried out in startlement, fumbling for the bedside lamp, which lit up uncomfortably bright. She pressed again and dimmed the light. She knew immediately what I was going to do, of course. Isa knew she was going to get fucked today, really fucked. I knelt in front of her, stiff and irritated, holding onto her knees with both hands. Don't do it, she whispered hoarsely as I slowly bent her knees apart, which she allowed completely unresistingly and willingly. I looked at her wet cunt and the finger still resting on her clit in the bright light, and saw that her vaginal opening was still trembling slightly. I hesitantly reached out a hand to her aroused, trembling cunt and spread it a little more, whereupon she stopped gasping and held her breath because she was still so insanely horny. I curiously palpated the large, hard swollen clit that protruded perkily from its skin fold. She flinched as if electrified and whispered shamefacedly that I should please not touch her there, but she allowed it anyway. She closed her eyes theatrically and turned her head to the side surrenderingly and shamefacedly, but she didn't resist my curious touches at all. Isa was clear that Pandora's box had been irrevocably opened, that it could no longer be delayed until my birthday. She knew she was going to get fucked right now. It was okay like that, she would be a little coy and protest formally but weakly. She wasn't going to let me win without this little spectacle.

I lay down on her belly, caressing her breasts as before and gently rocking back and forth, glans pressed firmly against her cunt. She quickly calmed down and let me have my way. I thought of how many times we had done it before and said so. Don't do it, she whispered mendaciously‐fearfully, you can't fuck your stepmother! Yes, I can, I thought silently, and looking up I saw fear and despondency in her eyes, but also excitement and horniness. She had tears in her eyes, tears of shame and guilty horniness as she whispered: no, we can't fuck! Yes, Isa was a goddamn good actress!

I reached down between us with one hand and stroked the tip of my cock up and down her crack a few times. I sensed that she was still aroused to the breaking point from the previous masturbation, and that her body was thinking differently than her head. Isa knew that she was going to be fucked now. I got angry because she tearfully whispered that she didn't want to be fucked and at the same time her thighs opened willingly. Don't do it, she whispered, looking horny and excited in my face, please don't fuck, don't squirt! while she half‐heartedly hinted at wanting to close her legs a bit. She reached for me and seemed to half‐heartedly want to push me away, but I grabbed her forearms, bent them backwards and pushed her down behind her head. Damn it, she should let me do it! I slowly let go and she left her arms there, as if I had bound them with magic behind her head.

Isa knew that she would finally get fucked now and looked at me expectantly and very horny now and stopped crying. It rushed in my ears when I pushed her thighs completely apart with one hand and felt no resistance. She spread her thighs willingly and slowly I penetrated her — infinitely slowly, while I watched her suck in the air deeply with a joyful wailing sound, as always. When I had fully penetrated, she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes in mendacious shame. She whispered tonelessly that she didn't want to be fucked, but she didn't resist at all, instead opening her cunt softly and willingly, she thrust joyfully towards me as I began to fuck.

I was suddenly sore at heart for doing this to her. I put my face to her neck and plucked her nipples with my fingers, because she liked that a lot. I lay restlessly on top of her and stroked the nipples, poked a little with my pelvis and could feel the nipples gradually hardening. In contrast to Anni's tight, hard little vagina, hers looked big and soft, but was surprisingly tight. It felt like a soft, warm mass that wrapped easily around my cock, as if I were in a tight cave. Anni's vagina had always seemed like a tight, tight glove; now, however, all I felt was soft warmth and a gentle, passive embrace. It was arousing and amazing at the same time. Isa's vagina felt very different every time, very special.

Isa was breathing and panting deeply, as I lay on top of her and really fucked her. Her fear and her tears had made me quite wild, I pushed and pushed as hard as I could. Then a transformation took place with her, which I had already noticed earlier with Anni. She suddenly became very soft and yielding, pushed along with her abdomen in time and smiled. After a while she panted just like Anni when she fucked Willi and thrust wildly from below. Unexpectedly suddenly she made her "Uaah!" as she always did when she orgasmed and rolled her abdomen in short, violent waves. I felt it slowly coming up to me and churned faster and faster. Her whole body quivered and pumped along with my thrusts, and though she was still thrusting violently, she whispered choppily, "No, no, don't fuck me!"

It was far too late for that. I clenched my teeth and hurled the first jet deep into her soft, warm abdomen. She gasped and squinted, I thrust convulsively against her pubis and jet after jet spurted in from the glans. Although my cock was still stiff, I wanted to stop guiltily. But then I misjudged the situation, she nimbly grabbed my cock and immediately plugged it back into her vagina. She was not satisfied with just one fuck, I was happy and we fucked again. She excited her nipples with her fingers and her big, heavy breasts jiggled along at the pace of the humping. Her "Uaah!" sounded and turned into gasping moans as her climax lasted quite long. She looked at me with a satisfied expression and patiently and passively let me fuck her until I finally cum. I felt my cock gradually shrink and slide out of her vagina with an inaudible plop.

I felt depressed and anxiously waited for thunder. But she remained lying there, just as I had slid off her, stroking my hair. "Stupid boy," she reprimanded, and I breathed a sigh of relief, for it didn't sound evil, "you're not supposed to fuck your mommy!" I was relieved to see that she smiled graciously at me as she did so, and I closed my eyes for a few minutes, for I was happy and terribly tired.

It was a few days later that I awoke from sleep in the morning because I felt her groping for me and touching my soft cock. Slowly and gently she stroked it until it straightened up, then continued to gently stroke up and down until it stood hard and stiff. I half sat up and looked at her; her eyes smiled feverishly. I guessed that she had obviously just masturbated and was still very horny. She continued to stroke me invitingly with her hand, then leaned over and whispered in my ear, "like again?" I didn't understand right away and looked at her sleepily, but she looked quite embarrassed and now I asked back in a whisper, "...again.... Fucking?" She narrowed her feverishly shining eyes shamefacedly and with a little‐girl expression whispered, "Yes, I want to be fucked!" and after a tiny pause, "please, I need it, now!"

It was rushing in my ears, my cock was stiff to bursting and my tiredness seemed to have vanished. Hurriedly I lay down between her thighs, which she opened willingly with obvious excitement, put my head on her shoulder and played with her nipples. She reached down and very gently plugged my cock into her vagina, then hugged me very affectionately. I felt with all my senses her excited horniness and fucked her as hard and as fast as I could. From the first moment she closed her eyes and gasped, thrusting along with her abdomen as I ticked like clockwork in her tight vagina.

She became more and more excited and thrust harder and harder, then her face contorted, and after a long, heavy gasp, a small sound escaped her throat, an "Uaah!". I wasn't ready yet and continued to fuck vigorously. Her climax still continued, her vagina kept pumping and she kept rearing back in horny need, expelling air loudly as she orgasmed, because I was fucking hard and fast. I instinctively felt that it was just right. It rose hot inside me, then nearly knocked me over as I spurted out. She held me by the bottom with both hands, in a loving embrace, while I squirted and gradually calmed down.

She held me sweetly and gently in her arms afterwards while I dozed off again, and then she whispered in my ear that I was her little bull. Sleepily I mumbled that I wasn't a bull after all, but she just smiled wisely and rocked me to sleep.

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