My first session with Catherine, a 40 year old mother of two: "I'd say my happiest memories from my youth were of sucking my father's cock," she said nonchalantly. I was taken aback, stunned, but I maintained a stoic expression as my position as therapist dictated. She looked out the window wistfully and continued, "I can still remember how the shag carpet felt on my knees, how his strong hand felt on the back of my head, and how smooth that big dick of his felt on my tongue." She could see the concern on my face and she brushed it off casually.
"Oh it was completely voluntary, I wasn't sexually assaulted or anything. It was the strangest thing, how it all started. No one really spoke about it, even after it started, it was just the way our family was.
My mother was a dutiful homemaker, and she had raised me in that kind of tradition, but she never explicitly told me anything one way or the other about the sexual roles that men and women play. Then one day, and I really mean just one weekday out of the blue, it started.
I was 15, my two brothers were 16 and 18, and we had just finished dinner. My mother cleared the table and the family moved into the living room for the night. My father opened the newspaper, my brothers were quarreling over which of the 2 television channels to watch, and I sat down with a book.
It was a perfectly normal evening, until all of the sudden it wasn't." She smiled wide, a beautiful smile I had to admit, and I saw her squirm in her chair. Recalling this memory was bringing her some intense pleasure, I could tell. "My mother had just finished the dishes and she came in and handed my father a cocktail.
He didn't even look at her, he was just reading the paper like always, when suddenly she just dropped to her knees. Right there in the living room, in front of her three teenage children, she knelt down and unzipped my father's trousers. I remember how loudly I gasped when I saw how huge his cock was, thick and long and downright terrifying to a girl who didn't know any better, but my mother sucked and stroked and caressed that enormous thing like it was the only thing in the world she cared about.
My brothers and I were silent, stunned, and didn't move a muscle for what must have been an hour as mom just sucked and sucked and sucked. What really stuck with me was how committed, how dedicated, she was.
I'll never forget that. A bomb could have gone off outside and I don't think my mother would have noticed, she was so focused on working his cock." She leaned back in her chair and shuttered. "Mmmm, gives me chills to this day when I think about it. I didn't even know what I was seeing back then. When my father finally came it went right down her throat, we didn't see a drop, she just drained him but I had no idea what that meant.
I found out soon what an accomplishment that was. Anyways, like I said, everyone acted like it was some normal thing. When it was done my father just kept reading the paper, my mother headed off to do some laundry, and my brothers and I were left just staring at each other in disbelief. Then the next day it happened again. And then again the next, same events, and from then on it was an after dinner ritual in our house. It went on that way for about two weeks and you'd be surprised how quickly even really unusual things just become second nature if they're repeated often enough." She bit her lip and looked at me with a devilish grin.
"But then all of the sudden it was my mother's monthly bridge night, one evening a month where she went over to a girlfriend's house and we had to fend for ourselves. Now for about a year up to that point my mother had been gradually teaching me all the things she had to do as the woman of the house and I had been practicing my domestic duties on those evenings.
I would make dinner, set the table, do the dishes, clean up, everything she did. It was my one night a month to play 'mom'.
I think you can see where this is going." I nodded that indeed I could, though I wasn't sure if I could believe it. "And really, the thought didn't even hit me until it was time.
I made a dinner, I did all the chores and the dishes after dinner as my father and brothers did their usual thing. When I walked in the living room, full intent on sitting down to watch TV like usual, it suddenly hit me that mom wasn't there to give my father his evening blowjob.
Something just didn't seem right, something was off, my mind just couldn't accept the idea of my father's cock sitting over there unsatisfied. It just seemed wrong. In two short weeks I'd been conditioned to understand that there was something just plain wrong about a man's needs not being met.
So guess what I did?" "You sucked his cock?" I said meekly. That wasn't the kind of language I commonly used, but the words just fell out of my mouth.
"Well, I tried my best. In truth I wasn't very good at it at first, but I gave it my best shot. His cock was so big, to this day the biggest I've ever had still, and I could only get the head into my mouth. My mother could make it disappear, almost the whole thing, but me I struggled just to fit my lips around his fat, warm, smooth head. But I got that much, and what I lacked in any technique I tried to make up for with enthusiasm.
I didn't want to disappoint him, or my mother, and as I stretched my mouth around him and licked wildly I couldn't help but think that maybe her openly giving my father blowjobs in front of us was as much her way of teaching me as it was anything else.
Anyways, when mom was doing it my father let her go to work but with me he broke stride a little. He put the paper down and actually watched me, and then he put his hand on my head and guided my effort. Like I said, I couldn't get much of him in but he taught me how to suck was little I could with a consistent rhythm. Then every now and again he would stop me and guide my face up and down his length, instructing me to lick every inch of that towering cock to get it soaking wet. That might have been my favorite part.
It felt like I was worshipping him in that moment, and I don't think it's an overstatement to call it a religious experience. Then he taught me the inexperienced way to make him cum. He put my mouth back onto him and instructed me to lap at his head with my tongue. While I did that he showed me how to firmly take hold of his shaft, jeez I could barely get my fingers around the whole width of him, and he showed me how to rhythmically stroke him.
The sucking and stroking combined seemed to do the trick and I felt him grow in my mouth.
I got my first taste of precum, which meant nothing to me at the time, and then he calmly instructed me to keep my mouth around him no matter what. I didn't really know what to expect. I mean, I knew academically what ejaculation was, but I was not prepared for what it would feel like to have such a big cock explode into my mouth. And did he ever! In addition to having the biggest cock I've ever experienced, my father was the biggest cummer on the planet!
Needless to say, between the taste of it and the shock of the eruption, I didn't manage to keep it all in. I gagged and choked and coughed and it spilled everywhere.
A big pool in his lap, mostly on my hand which was still gripping his shaft tight, formed and I couldn't believe any of it for a second. I'll admit, I didn't much like the taste at first, who does right, but I liked the idea of it all.
Of swallowing. In that moment, when I realized that my mother was swallowing this enormous load down every night, probably more than once, I suddenly felt this incredible sense of duty. Of purpose. So, much to my father's surprise I think, once he finally stopped and I had regained my composure a little, I dove down and gobbled it all up." She laughed gleefully at this. "Every sticky, clumpy drop that I could find. I licked it off of his cock first, then I slurped up the warm puddle that had coated my hand.
Again, I wasn't thrilled with the taste at the time, I guess you learn to appreciate it with age, but the fact that it didn't taste great to me perhaps made the whole experience that much greater. I mean, here I was sucking down his cum not because I liked it, I wasn't doing it for me, I was doing it for him.
And that kind of sealed it, I guess. My brain kind of formulated sex as any act where a woman pleases a man and herself gets pleasure out of doing so." "That's quite a story," I said in disbelief. "Oh it gets better," she said with another smile. "You see, the next night my mother was home again, so I didn't know what would happen.
I was even afraid she might be mad at us, like my father had cheated on her or something. Well, after dinner my mother walked into the living room and dropped to her knees in front of my two brothers!
I'm sure you can imagine their surprise! No one protested and a few minutes later she had Johnny down her throat while her hand massaged Bobby's prick.
They were in heaven, those two, and I guess at that moment the walls just came down. I went over to my father and gave him the best blowjob I knew how, still not very deep and even though I caught more of it I still had to clean up a healthy load of cum from his lap. It was never spoken, but from that point it was open cocksucking season.
The men just used whoever was closest, there wasn't any rhyme or reason to it, and by the next day it became just an unspoken truth of our house that my mother and I were always sucking cock."