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Asking not to take sex

Asking not to take sex

Asking not to take sex

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`You`re gonna be in jail,` he can be heard saying as two policemen approach. `This is not China, or wherever you`re from.` A ticker on the screen keeps track of her success rate. It`s obvious that even the men who want to sleep with her seem suspicious - or think that the whole thing must be a joke. `Are you out of your mind?` asks a baffled young blond guy. `Have you been drinking?` But some of them obviously want to hold on to the fantasy. After she assures him that she`s sober and in her right mind, he relents and says `you can come to my house if you want.` `Pretty please?` she says to a man who appears to be in his twenties. `You can just kind of lay there, and I`ll just do my thing.` He hesitates, but agrees and is seen walking off camera with her. Her blunt behavior also leads to some very funny exchanges. `Mom, I`ll have to call you back,` one guy says when she interrupts him mid-conversation. Candid camera: Some men appear shocked and ask Andrea if she is serious, yet still agree to sleep with her No hesitation: One man offers to have sex with her on the spot, while his friend appears shocked Taking a chance: Even though he`s unsure if she is serious and somewhat afraid of getting robbed, this man still says yes to the chance of immediate sex He appears to think about her offer, but says that he will have to `respectfully decline.` Two of the men who turn her down are walking with girlfriends, while another is with his daughter. Only one young man carrying a guitar accepts the offer immediately. `I will have sex with you right now,` he says. `I`m serious.`   Equal opportunity: Some of the men who say `no` are with their girlfriends, who surprisingly don`t seem angry about Andrea`s approach Forward approach: When Andrea targets a man walking out of a grocery store, he angrily lectures her ((left) before calling the police (right) `Do you want to hang out with us first?` another guy asks. `Not really,` she replies. `It will be really quick, like fifteen minutes.` He agrees to the liaison, but adds `I better not be getting robbed right now.` In total, Andrea had seven men take her up on her offer and seven rejections. But everyone she approached, even the men walking with girlfriends, seemed to be in a good mood when she left. She definitely had better luck than the hapless man who filmed the `A Guy Ask 100 Girls For Sex` video, who had to deal with angry women and having a drink thrown in his face. 

Updated 0636 GMT (1436 HKT) January 22, 2018 Chat with us in Facebook Messenger. Find out what`s happening in the world as it unfolds. After the firestorm surrounding the Babe.net story about "Grace" and her encounter with Aziz Ansari, CNN Opinion asked writers for their views on a complicated question: How to date in 2018? The views expressed in their written contributions, and in the social media posts contained in this article, are solely theirs My fervent hope is that #MeToo will scare men into finally paying attention to women as people, whether that means realizing that they probably don`t want to be hit on at work, or finally paying attention to what their female partners are experiencing during sex. And I hope that women will finally have the space to prioritize our own needs and boundaries and desires both in the workplace and between the sheets. No more excuses about not being a mind reader or women who aren`t forthright enough: We need to rehumanize sex, so that all of us, regardless of gender, approach it as a creative collaboration, as opposed to a zero-sum game. So that we all learn that good sexual citizenship means showing up and paying attention to our partners the whole time, not treating them like a challenge that can be surmounted. All I know is that if Aziz Ansari didn`t want his sexual misconduct to become a national news story, he could have left his apartment as soon as things got creepy. It`s not like she was blocking the door. — Angus Johnston (@studentactivism) January 17, 2018 So here`s to men keeping their d**ks in their pants (and their d**k pics on their own phones) until they`re explicitly requested. Here`s to yummy, mutual dirty times, flirting that`s actually fun for both parties and sex that feels great because no one`s afraid or erased. Sex that everyone`s excited about because everyone`s pleasure is equally important. Jaclyn Friedman is a writer, speaker and activist, and creator of the books Yes Means Yes!: Visions of Female Sexual Power and a World Without Rape and What You Really Really Want: The Smart Girl`s Shame-Free Guide to Sex and Safety . Her podcast, Unscrewed , was named one of the Best Sex Podcasts by both Marie Claire and Esquire. Poorna Jagannathan: While Harvey set off outrage, Aziz has set off thought First of all, thank you, "Grace" and Aziz. So far, most of the conversation on sexual violence has been along a strong binary: a clear victim-predator setup. And no doubt, the predator is egregiously wrong. Then this comes along and suddenly you`re on "Team Grace" or "Team Aziz." This interaction, which Ansari believed was consensual, doesn`t fully follow the binary we`ve established. Which is why it`s actually just as culturally significant -- it opens up the conversation of everyday sexual interaction, bringing out the nuances of consent and of male/female desire. Yup, I`m grateful. You can imagine what`s a more productive conversation to have with my son: "Hmmm, best not to drug and rape your date" or "Make sure you`re looking for a verbal or non-verbal `yes` every step of the way." So dating in 2018 -- I`d go by "yes," "no" and "it`s complicated. Very." Consent is sexy. First off, get consent. Even when you`re in a long-term relationship. I live in California, where the beautifully radical "Yes Means Yes" law was first implemented. And affirmative consent is deepened by this notion of "enthusiastic consent" I read about, which I love. It`s the idea that you`re checking in with each other verbally and non-verbally, making sure you both are into it. A "no" is a stop sign. It`s not a slow-down-so-we-can-start-right-back-up sign. It`s a sign that you check in, ask your partner where they are at and what they`d like. Respect that boundary and stick with it. It`s complicated. Even with your "yes" and your "no," there`s still stuff we have to we have to look at and unbundle. Imagine spending more time getting to know each other, engaging in much more foreplay. Imagine that the woman gets as much time as she needs to understand and explain what pleasures her (sometimes one thing works for her and sometimes it doesn`t and that`s OK). And imagine if both participants agree that they are having sex, even if they stop after just the woman has an orgasm. All of this is far from what we have now. I`m not sure how to bridge the experiences, but I do know that while Harvey (Weinstein) set off outrage, Aziz has set off thought. Poorna Jagannathan is an actress and producer best known for her portrayal of Safar Khan in the Emmy-nominated show "The Night Of." In response to the 2012 gang rape and death of Jyoti Singh Pandey, she initiated and produced the play "Nirbhaya," written and directed by Yael Farber. Roxanne Jones: If they don`t want to talk - actually talk - about sex, say goodbye The biggest takeaway of the Aziz Ansari story is that women and girls have to learn to talk, out loud, about our sexuality. It`s time to shed the Victorian-era notions still clinging to women -- even those who call themselves feminists -- that make it shameful to tell a man exactly what we want sexually, and how we want it. It`s dangerous to rely on non-verbal cues or mind reading to tell a guy you`re OK with oral sex (giving and receiving) and making out on the couch but you do not want to go all the way, as did the woman who called herself "Grace" in the Babe.net story about her date with Ansari. Speaking up is difficult but there is no better time than this #MeToo moment for women to find their voices, not just to expose real predators who sexually harass and assault women, but overly zealous men, as the Babe article portrays Ansari to be, who may think "yes" to a date at his place automatically means "yes" to sex. A guy once told me: "This is our second date. The third date means we`re having sex. That`s the rule." I was shocked but at least he was honest. So was I: "There won`t be a third date. It`s been fun," I responded. We laughed and remain friends today. No playing coy, no mind reading. No games. When it comes to dating, both people equally are accountable for setting the tone. My friends and I have rules: 1) Public place for the first date, feel him out. 2) If and when you do go to his place, or yours, set up a "rescue call or text" later that night. This gives you an excuse to leave quickly, if needed. I use a code word if I`m in trouble and need help. 3) And, of course, if things get totally out of control, try to stay calm, speed-dial 911, then fight like hell to get away. I wrote a column in 2013 advising my college-age son to get a text message from women to indicate they had consensual sex. Just in case, as in the Ansari story, the woman goes home feeling violated because he failed to read her non-verbal cues. I got a lot of criticism for that piece but I still stand by it. When it comes to dating in 2018, let`s talk about sex. And if your partner doesn`t think that`s sexy, say goodbye. Roxanne Jones, a founding editor of ESPN Magazine and former vice president at ESPN, has worked as a producer, reporter and editor at the New York Daily News and The Philadelphia Inquirer. Jones is co-author of "Say it Loud: An Illustrated History of the Black Athlete." She talks politics, sports and culture weekly on Philadelphia`s Praise 107.9 FM. What allegedly happened to "Grace" in Aziz Ansari`s apartment was unpleasant, but almost nobody believes it was sexual assault. Most of the pundits who weighed in called it bad sex or worse, but not anything violent or criminal. Grace herself disagreed; she told Babe.net that "after a really long time," she came to view the experience as assault rather than mere awkwardness. Ansari released a statement that said he thought the encounter was "completely consensual." We need to draw distinctions between uncomfortable encounters and non-consensual ones. For all the good the #MeToo movement has done to expose monsters like Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey, advocates should take care not to redefine all flawed sexual episodes as assault. Such caution is desperately needed on university campuses, where modern dating culture is defined by casual, alcohol-fueled hookups. Some of these incidents cross the line into rape, and should be dealt with harshly. But many others are messier, and guys are sometimes punished severely for conduct no worse than Ansari`s . As an education reporter, I`ve covered case after case in which administrators wrongly expelled students -- often young men of color -- after a sexual partner complained about an imperfect encounter. The University of Findlay, for instance, kicked out two athletes because a female student claimed they raped her -- even though a number of witnesses, according to the lawsuit filed by the two athletes against the university over their expulsion, said they not only heard her give consent, but also recalled her bragging about the encounter afterward. A spokesperson for the university told the Washington Examiner that they would "vigorously defend the process and our decision." The case is still pending. We should teach young people to be sensitive to their partners` needs, to drink more responsibly, and to seek maximal consent. But we don`t need to reach for our pitchforks every time someone falls short of the modern ideal. You need to know that when you take her back to your apartment, there is a part of her that wonders if she`s going to die there. Not every time, not every woman. But enough of us, and often. The threat of harm is a flip of the coin with deadly stakes. A 2017 CDC report found that half of murdered women died at the hands of a current or former partner (or their family or friends). With this knowledge, we know we must say no; we also know that resistance could cost us our lives. Say no; go along. Be strong; be easy. The #AzizAnsari story is another example of how important #consent education is. This video from @amazeorg does a great job explaining it in under 2 minutes. https://t.co/a5f1MXKyZa For eager partners, the situation is just as complex. Romantic comedies demonstrate that "no" really means "convince me." You might steamroll a woman`s resistance because you hear "wait," as the next line of a common sexual script: She`s a good girl, I will seduce her. When she stops protesting, you thinks you`ve persuaded her into pleasure when it`s just as likely that you pushed her into silence. You may have no idea how scary you are. The Aziz Ansari story is a good litmus test for who sees sexual misconduct as a strictly legal question and who is concerned about improving the overall culture surrounding sex and dating. It`s also many times more relevant to the average person`s experience than, say, Weinstein. — David Klion (@DavidKlion) January 15, 2018 You`re worried about being accused of monstrous acts; she`s worried about staying alive. Not every woman, not every time. But enough of us, and often. So here we are. It`s 2018. Men are still used to getting what they want, and women are still socialized to please. It`s great that we have this moment and this movement. Let`s not waste it. Right now, girls need to be taught that it is OK to assert themselves, and to trust their guts. If you feel uncomfortable, it`s not your imagination -- it`s real. Act on it. Speak up. In this country we value celebrity, money and status. We elected a President who derides women, discounts marital fidelity and has been accused of sexual harassment. Trump has denied these allegations. What kind of message do we give young women when, no matter what a man says or does, he can still remain the leader of the free world? Why, in situations like the one described between "Grace" and Aziz Ansari, do we focus on the reaction of the woman, rather than the behavior of the man? And what is the message we give women when they are judged and shunned after sharing their stories on social media? And why continue to call it "social" media, when we are bereft of real human contact? When young people would rather text than pick up the phone and hear someone`s voice, when they are deprived of real "social" interactions, how does this generation become adept at picking up non-verbal cues from another person? How do we teach our kids to date in this day and age? It`s up to us parents and caregivers to communicate with our children, to talk face to face, to make eye contact, to hold them accountable for their words and actions, and to teach them the meaning and power of the word "no." Judy Gold is a stand-up comic in New York, actress, writer and winner of two Emmy Awards. She is the host of the podcast "Kill Me Now," available on iTunes or at judygold.com/podcast . Follow her on Twitter @JewdyGold . Aziz Ansari`s case brought to surface the nuances of the #MeToo movement that seemed to have gotten lost beneath the rubble of fallen men who were once powerful. Until now, the social media campaign was a sweeping statement -- if you experienced sexual assault in any form and wanted to come forward in show of solidarity with other women who lived through experiences similar to yours, you would say #MeToo. The phrase is representative of every experience from an unwelcome kiss or grope to rape, and new allegations against Ansari pick at the gaping hole in this kind of umbrella movement: the failure to differentiate between rape and sexual assault. In response to the allegations, Ansari released a statement saying that he believed "by all indications" that the sexual activity was "completely consensual."

Richard Chesler : [1:04:51] The first rule of Fight Club is you don`t talk about Fight Club? Narrator : [Voice-over] I`m half asleep again; I must`ve left the original in the copy machine. Richard Chesler : The second rule of Fight Club - is this yours? Richard Chesler : Pretend you`re me, make a managerial decision: you find this, what would you do? Narrator : [pauses] Well, I gotta tell you: I`d be very, very careful who you talk to about that, because the person who wrote that... is dangerous. Narrator : [Talking slowly] And this button-down, Oxford-cloth psycho might just snap, and then stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-10 carbine gas-powered semi-automatic weapon, pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers. This might be someone you`ve known for years. Someone very, very close to you. Narrator : [Voice-over] Tyler`s words coming out of my mouth. Narrator : [Voice-over] And I used to be such a nice guy. Narrator : Or maybe you shouldn`t bring me every little piece of trash you happen to pick up. Narrator : [Into phone] Compliance and Liability...? Marla Singer : My tit`s gonna rot off. Narrator : [to boss] Would you excuse me? I need to take this.

Billy Chubbs is a early 20`s Millennial with an impressive university degree in English and an equally impressive Electrician`s certification. He recently joined the Canadian Military and is currently serving as an officer. You can tell him how much you hate him via Twitter or just send him some good old fashioned hate mail . I, Billiford Honky Chubbs, am not a men’s rights activist. Doubtless, some of you just imagined me saying that in this guys voice; but let me say it once again; I am not a Men’s Rights Activist. There are many reasons for this—well… five… so instead of a big witty introductory paragraph how about I jump right into them. Rights have always been granted by the powers that be either because they’re afraid men will take those rights through disobedience, or that men have already begun taking those rights through disobedience (sweet, violent disobedience) and the granting of rights is a last ditch effort at placating them. Men’s Rights would entail a profound, culture shifting change in whatever country that enacted it. Thousands of people would lose their jobs, and hundreds of thousands – if not millions – would lose their ill gotten pay-cheques and financial means. Giving rights to a cause like the gays is easy – nobody is going to get shot because they openly support mos, and the economy doesn’t take a hit when two butt pirates plug each other up Friday night. On the contrary; gay marriage means more bureaucratic jobs created to cater to Mr and Mr Browndick, and when they get divorced there’s more money to be made off their ruined matrimony. If there was any actual cost to giving gays rights then Obama would be on the tube every night denouncing homosexuality as one of the great sins of our times. The destruction of the frivolous divorce industry alone would be catastrophic to the robber barons and the lampreys perpetuating it. MRA’s asking the government to pretty please give them rights is a futile waste of time. The majority of fervent MRA’s come across as… well, to put it bluntly – losers. I admit, it pisses me off to see hard working guys get raped in divorce court, or to lose an opportunity at a career or entrance to a university because affirmative action means that women get preference. Yet why are all these divorced men marrying such horrible women in the first place? If you ask, you’ll probably hear a cliché like “She wasn’t the woman I married” but how big of a crock of bullshit is that? Any guy with actual experience with women can tell you that temperamentally and mentally, women are teenagers. Date them and their true colours begin to show after 2-6 weeks. Who woman are at 15, barring some cataclysmic event, is who they are for the rest of their lives. So for all these guys who get ass raped in court; their wives really were angels until they got that ring on them? Really? Sorry, but I doubt it. There were always signs that the woman they married was unworthy of marriage; it’s just before the marriage all those annoying, greedy habits of hers were ignored because these chumps were just so damn happy to be getting steady sex. They were blinded by the pussy because they couldn’t get the milk from the cow without spending cash on dates and buying their future wives presents to buy her love. They couldn’t see that they had simply rented their wives infatuation with money instead of manliness, and as soon as they put a ring on it all her obligations to him in terms of romance are done. She’s won. If men are unwilling to better themselves and learn the true nature of women (especially now, since there’s no excuse due to the internet) so they can attract women through manliness instead of Beta Bucks, then they do not deserve sympathy or rights. This is the culture we live in, and there’s no turning back the clock no matter how hard you stamp your foot guys. Adapt or languish. Work harder than women and beat them in the workplace, or get a career women refuse to enter because it’s not a comfy office environment. As a man, Men’s Rights would be nice to have but the guys who really need it have almost always put the chains on themselves. It’s ridiculous to cheer on a movement of men like that, let alone be a part of it. If a man can’t handle his women on his own, than no amount of laws on his side will make her submit to his will. There’s an old political strategy called Politique du Pire, which essential translates into Making Things Worse. It is a strategy which involves a minor political group intentionally aggravating a powerful political group into making said the powerful overreact against not just the aggravator group but everyone, causing increased suffering and misery amongst the masses which, in theory, would make everyone align against the superior force. The whole of social sympathy in the west is geared toward women, sexual deviants (gays, transsexuals, etc), and the worthless segment of minorities who refuse to assimilate into the wider society. Women of course receive the majority of this sympathy. Politicians and media suck up incessantly to the ‘fairer’ sex. They constantly prattle on about how women are now the bread winners – then turn around and spout the ridiculous lie that they somehow make 70% less then men do. Movies and television portray women as being ass kicking Amazons with strength equal to men who can whore around, ignore all their financial obligations and still find the perfect prince charming to marry them the moment they want to settle down. Then news sites run stories about women suffering in the dating world, with clichéd headlines like ‘Where have all the good men gone’. Society has it’s hand directly on the pulse of woman’s happiness, and whatever is making them unhappy is studied and addressed. And what makes women today unhappy? Manly men who treat women exactly how they treat themselves. Men who pump and dump whores, leaving them as scraps for future MRA’s to marry. Men who know that unmarried woman over 24 are a horrific waste of time and therefore only target the young,  fertile femmes who haven’t slept around. Women love men who are confident and intelligent enough to treat them as the inferior beings they all know they are, yet unless they’re young and chaste these men almost never marry them. And that causes women intense unhappiness. And unhappy women upset the current societal masters, and in order to study and combat women’s unhappiness they’re going to have to study the problems between the sexes. The more men who learn to be men, who treat women as inferiors and give value only to women who have sex with a small number of men and marry young, the more unhappy today’s modern woman will be. And to make those women happy they’re going to have to do something to start making men happy. One stud leaving a trail of ten broken hearted whores behind him is worth more (in terms of actual social change) than a thousand MRA’s picketing outside the local courthouse. Back up to the first point, MRA’s are busy asking for change instead of making a change. They want respect handed to them. That’s not how it works with men. As a man, you get respect for what you do and who you are. I only have so much time and energy to lend to social movements. I’d rather focus on encouraging five guys to make real change to themselves. If a man wants to live a better life, then he must do the following—lift weights; read great books, old and new; and realize and accept the truth of your and society’s reality. Fuck fretting about rights. As a man, fret about yourself and your own goals. The more men with fit bodies, intelligent minds and unshakable confidence, the less we’ll need Men’s Rights – we’ll already have a legion of hard ass sons of bitches taking those rights by the sheer force of their being. Let’s play pretend for a moment. Imagine for the last fifty or so years, there has a been a movement announcing that Blacks were superior to Asians. Asians are ridiculed in the media and blatantly told that they’re inferior to Blacks. Blacks are given more benefits, more legal power, and have their asses kissed while Asians are told how evil they are just for being Asian and that they should suck it up. Then, after so many decades of being shat on, Asians begin to stand up for themselves. They begin to form movements for their own interests, and individually they start to become really awesome. Suddenly, there is a Asian Rights Movement. While ridiculed and belittled, Asian Rights Activists begin to recieve mainstream attention and recognition. Soon, although small, ARA’s begin to meld into the beginnings of a real political force. ARA’s appear on talk shows, radio shows, news shows and papers. Books about the Asian Rights Movement begin to be printed, the authours going on the circuit and addressing all the problems Asians face in today’s society. And all the authour’s are black. All the ARA’s giving interviews are black. Black people are talking, as if they have authority, on what it’s like to be an Asian in today’s society. Only black’s in the Asian Rights Movement are given any kind of credence or voice. On the public stage, Asians are pushed to the background of the movement that is supposed to represent them. Isn’t that ridiculous sounding? Well it’s no less ridiculous then women in the Men’s Rights movement. Women make up a large portion of MRA’s and not just as quiet supporters or cheerleaders as they should be. Many are among the forefront of the current Men’s Rights Movement. Men On Strike , which is currently the most mainstream literature about the problems facing men today, was written by a woman. Who then went on talk shows and talked about the book… to other women. Two women, gabbing about how the difficulties facing men. Imagine two black people on a talk show discussing how hurtful it is to be called Gook, or Chink, Or Slant Eye. They might have a slight idea but really, they don’t know. Any movement which claims to represent myself or other men, with such a pervasive female presence, is one I’m not going to be a part of. Women have no real idea what it’s like to be a man. We’re genetically different and our lives are lived very, very differently. Yet the MRM’s is flooded with women trying to take the helm, trying to represent ‘men’. And if a movement is being spearheaded by people who can’t even understand the grievance of the people they’re supposed to be representing, how can they be trusted to act in our best interests? The answer is that they can’t. And the fact that the female presence in the MRM – beyond simply agreeing with it or giving moral support – is tolerated by the majority of MRA’s is probably the biggest reason I do not consider myself a part of the movement; even though my goals and desires do match up with many of theirs. So there you have it! Five reasons my e-mail is going to be flooded with angry hate letters and Return Of King’s is going to be called the worst thing ever to happen to the Manosphere. Men – stop asking for change. Just make it.

There is a saying that goes that if you ask enough girls (in this case 100) to have sex with you, at least one will say yes. I`m not sure who to attribute that assertion to, but it`s clearly wrong. I had a pretty strong feeling going in that I wasn`t going to be very successful. What I didn`t expect though, was that the vast majority of girls found it amusing and actually cracked up. I wanted to do a social experiment comparing and contrasting how males and females respond differently to being outright asked if they want to have sex. I had a pretty good idea of how it was all going to go down beforehand, but I thought it would make for an interesting and entertaining video nevertheless.

Incest sex stories: Forced to take my Mother. Author: CandyXLove. This story is including: Fiction, Domination/submission, Incest, Teen Male / Female As soon as I pulled onto our street I knew mom was by the pool. Not that I could see past the wooden fence surrounding our backyard, but I didn’t have to. The fact my best friend Jack, who lived next door, was on his porch with a couple of his friends looking into my yard was a dead giveaway. In a way it ticked me off, but then again, who could blame them? Fact was my mother was not only pretty damn hot, but lately had taken to wearing some revealing bathing suits when she went swimming. No, not a bathing suit; that would be the fairly modest one piece she used to don when at the pool. What my mother was wearing these days was a bikini and a damn skimpy one. So skimpy I was getting uncomfortable looking at her. Parking in the driveway next to Dad’s red Mazda I shut off the car and frowned at my last thought. Saying I was uncomfortable looking at mom lately wasn’t really the right word. If I was to be honest with myself the word was horny. The last few weeks Mom had been dressing much sexier, flaunting what I had always figured was a nice body, but I’d had no idea how nice. However even though I had been well aware my mother was, for lack of a better word, a cougar, I had never seen her as anything but my mom. But the last month or so something had changed and I found myself looking at her more like an extremely desirable Milf rather than a parent. I sat back and tapped the steering wheel nervously as I recalled the way my cock had been stirring in my pants whenever I sat by the pool with her or when we watched TV and she lay on the couch with her long legs stretched out. Even as I stared at those well shaped legs I told myself this was my mother, but that thought wasn’t enough to stop the disturbing images of her doing very un-mother like things from entering my mind. The fact mom had become much more affectionate with me wasn’t helping matters. Last night had been a perfect example. Dad had to work late and as we sat on the couch watching the Sox game, Mom had slid over and grabbing my arm draped it over her shoulder as if she were my girlfriend. That might not have been so bad had she been wearing more than the inappropriately short black silk robe she had been parading around in at night. Image for illustration purpose only. Incest sex stories: Forced to take my Mother. Author: CandyXLove The material was thin and she had placed my hand dangerously close to her left breast. I could feel her soft stomach beneath the robe, but more alarming was I could feel her nipple, her hard nipple, pressing into my arm. I had tried to move, but looking up at me with her big blue eyes she’d asked, “You don’t like being close to me?” Those words had been followed with her trademark pout that she had been using on dad and me for as long as I could remember. When I was a kid I would always give in to the pout because Mom said it meant she was sad. I always figured that’s how it worked on dad as well. When I got older and started thinking about and eventually having sex, I realized it worked on dad because mom had amazing lips. Full and soft, I knew what that pout made my father think of. I sighed as I wondered what dad would think if he knew that several times in the last couple of weeks his son had envisioned those lip doing exactly what they did for him. No sooner had that thought entered my mind I was confronted with the image of my mother on her knees looking up at me. Her blue eyes were wide and her lips pushed into that irresistible pout. That pout was hovering just over the swollen head of my cock and as I reached down and ran my hands through her long red hair, those lips parted and… “Stop it!” I snapped. Pushing that twisted visual from my mind, I looked into my own blue eyes in the rear view mirror and whispered, “You’re a sick bastard and you need help, Mark.” Help was something I was seriously considering. Perving on your mother just wasn’t normal and the university did have free, and hopefully confidential, counseling. Still I was unsure whether or not I would be able to tell someone, even a professional, that last night I’d had a wet dream of my mother slipping into my bed and fucking me or that I had taken to watching mother son porn videos and jerking off to them. I forced myself to get out of the car and walk quickly along the fence in order to clear my head before I began replaying that dream. As I approached the gate to the yard I looked up and saw Jack and company still gawking and yelled loudly, “Hey Jack, what are you guys looking at?” Jack jerked his head around to look at me, then almost as quickly looked back into the yard. He put his hand up and gave an awkward wave at my mother who I had figured had looked up, and even from where I was I could see him turning red. He stood up and after saying something to his friends they entered his house. Jack was the last to do so and looking down at me, flipped me off and mouthed the word “Asshole!” I smiled and waved at him, then frowned when I heard mom call out, “Hey Mark, come sit by the pool with me!” I put my hand on the gate, then recalling the look of lust on Jack’s face, and my recent issues; I decided I didn’t need to see my mother right now. Pretending I didn’t hear her, I walked past the gate and entered through the front door. As soon as I did I felt my stomach sink. There were two suitcases in the hallway which meant dad was going on the road. For years my father had been an inside sales rep for a company that manufactured custom car parts, but due to my starting college had taken a position in the outside sales division to make some extra commissions. I felt bad because he was now traveling two to three days a week and I knew it was hard on him and mom who even after twenty years of marriage were very close. In fact from the multitude of times I’d had to avoid the hallway at night and crank the music up in my room the two were very close. Not that I could blame dad, hell if I had a girlfriend as hot as my mother I’d never let her out of the bed. That thought was cut off when it hit me that dad starting the new job was right about the time mom had started dressing differently. Was she trying to keep my father happier when he was here because she thought he would stray? Or maybe just trying to make his time at home more enjoyable? As I entered the living room and made my way into the kitchen I figured that was not only a good explanation for her new wardrobe, but could explain her increased affection for me. Maybe she was lonely without dad around. The two of them were downright sickening with the way they were all over each other so perhaps she was…what was the word, needy? Opening the fridge and popping open a Coke, I shook my head; dad leaving was not going to help my dilemma with my mother. The nights he was gone were the ones mom seemed to act more like an attention starved girlfriend. I chugged the Coke and as I tossed the can into the trash, nodded in agreement with myself; dad’s weekly trips were the cause of her behavior. Unfortunately dad had talked about doing this for at least six months and all I could do was hope mom would get used to it and go back to being normal. I was going to head upstairs to study when my phone beeped telling me I had a text. I removed it from my pocket and saw it was from mom. “It’s not nice to ignore your mother; come swim with me!” I glanced over at the glass doors that led out back and saw mom sitting on the edge of the pool across from me, a towel wrapped around her. Seeing me looking, she beckoned me with her finger. I swallowed hard and with an air of resignation walked out onto the deck. I was wearing shorts and a plain white t-shirt and figured I would tell mom I didn’t feel like changing and just sit outside with her for a little while, then use studying as an excuse to bail. When I went down the stairs of the deck and approached the pool mom stood up and tossed the towel off. Oh, fuck me; I thought when I saw what was beneath it. Mom was wearing a red bikini that seemed as if it were little more than lingerie. Mom was pretty ample in the chest department and the skimpy top looked as if it could barely contain her. The material of the top covered little more than half of her tits and even from across the pool I could see the tops of her smooth creamy breasts and forced my eyes downward. That was a big mistake as the bottom of the suit if possible was even more revealing. The suit looked more like a thong which tied around her hips leaving her entire leg exposed. The small patch of red cloth between her legs didn’t leave any margin for error and if the damn thing moved to either side even a little her pussy… I closed my eyes and told myself the words pussy and mother should never be used in the same sentence. I heard a splash and opened my eyes to see mom had jumped in and was swimming towards me. My heart pounded as I watched her body stretched out under the water as she propelled herself using those long well shaped legs. The water of the pool was crystal clear and I could see the back of the bikini was just as flimsy as the front. I found myself staring at the firm well rounded cheeks of her ass as she approached and with a feeling of alarm became aware of my cock beginning to twitch between my legs. Mom reached my side and coming up from under the water, rested her forearms on the edge of the pool and smiled up at me. “Umm, it was okay.” I managed to get out as my eyes locked onto her chest. The bathing suit had slid slightly to the side as she had risen from the water and as I stared down at her breasts I could see the light pink skin surrounding her nipples. “Yeah, sure!” I answered as I jerked my eyes up to her face. Although there was nothing sexual about the neck up, staring at my mother’s features was not helping. At forty one, mom was still damn beautiful. Her features were smooth and unmarred by even the smallest wrinkles. Her big baby blue eyes were wide and bright and of course there were those perfect lips. Mom’s long red hair was plastered to her face and the smooth skin of her shoulders. Like many red heads, mom’s skin was fair and even with some color from swimming was still much lighter than my own tanned flesh. “Baby?” she cut into my thoughts. Mom calling me baby was another new thing that had started in the last few weeks. Initially I didn’t mind it, in fact even though I had just turned nineteen I found it kind of endearing. Now that I had been having inappropriate thoughts, the idea of her calling me baby had a far from innocent sound to it. “Hey!” I cried out as mom punctuated that question by reaching into the pool and splashing water on my legs. “Well you looked like you were day dreaming.” She gave me an odd smile, “What you thinking about baby?” “You just got home, take some time to relax and work later.” She indicated the pool. “Come on in, the water’s perfect!” “Just take your shirt and shoes off and jump in, you’re only wearing shorts.” “Nah, I really need to be…” I stopped as mom put on the pout and looking up at me with those big eyes asked, I looked down at those eyes and that little girl pout and was struck by the recurring image of her doing that between my legs. I stepped back so quickly I tripped over my own foot and fell backwards. Luckily I had been standing in front of one of the lounge chairs and sat down heavily into it. Mom clapped her hands. Despite my nervousness seeing her flash that huge smile and hearing her laugh caused me to smile back and I shrugged, “I do what I can.” “Only one performance a day.” I told her with a forced laugh. “Really, mom, I don’t feel like swimming right now.” I trailed off and stared as, hauling herself up out of the pool, mom crawled towards me on her hands and knees. She was staring into my eyes and I sat there, unable to look away as she approached. Her tits were hanging down and threatening to spill out of the top and I could see straight down between to the pink skin of her nipples. Mom’s absurdly fine ass was up in the air and this time my cock didn’t twitch, but grew one from before. Mom was smiling as she approached, but it seemed different; more playful, as if she knew I was looking. Don’t be stupid, I told myself as I tried to inconspicuously place my hands in my lap to cover my now fully hard cock. Mom came up to the chair and to my horror, knelt there between my legs looking up at me. “Come on, baby.” She said in what I could only describe as a purr, “Come play with me.” “P…play with you?” I stammered wondering if I had somehow fallen asleep and this was just another sick incestuous dream. Giving me a sly smile she asked, “Why, what did you think I meant?” I couldn’t answer right away as my eyes had been drawn down to her chest again and I stared at the beads of water sliding down them. This time mom didn’t press for an answer, she stayed there, resting on her knees, her tits less than a foot from the raging hard on beneath my hands. Finally, taking a deep breath I raised my eyes to meet hers and shrugged, “I wasn’t sure, that’s why I asked.” “Oh, is that why?” she asked, “I’m not sure what else you could have been thinking of, not like there are too many games we could play in there.” I felt my face growing hot, but to my relief mom didn’t push it. Instead, she reached out and grabbing the bottom of my shirt, started to pull it up. I wanted to resist her, but couldn’t lift my hands from my lap. Mom tugged my shirt up to my chest, then laughed and said, “Arms up!” “Wow, Mark, look at you.” She shook her head and removing her hands from my shirt placed them on my bare stomach. “Damn your stomachs hard!” “I joined the gym at PC, been working out a lot,” I said then tensed up as she lightly ran her long red nails down my stomach. “Well it shows.” She nodded, “Hmm, my boy’s become quite the man hasn’t he?” Her hands slid up further and going under my shirt she rubbed my chest. “Tell you what Mark, your dad’s in damn good shape too; I’m the envy of all the women on the street living with two hot guys like you two.” “Uh…thanks.” As she mentioned my father it dawned on me what this would look like if he were to come out here, mom on her knees, her hands all over me. “W…where is dad?” “Taking a nap, he has to fly out soon,” she gave me a nasty little smile; “He went for a nice swim with me, a fun one.” “TMI mom,” when she cocked her head, I translated, “Too much information.” “Oh, that’s right only kids your age fuck.” She said matter of factly, “I forgot your dad and I aren’t supposed to have sex anymore. Never mind get each other off in the pool and…” “Mom!” I exclaimed turning redder by the minute. She laughed, “I love when you blush, shows you’re still sweet.” The smile left her face and pointing at me, she said, “Take your shirt off and come swimming with me.” This time it sounded as if she were making it an official demand and she started to tug on my shirt again. I refused to move my hands and with a frown she grabbed my forearm and started to pull it upwards. “Mom stop!” I snapped at her. Mom immediately removed her hand from my arm and staring up at me asked, “What’s the matter, baby? Why are you mad?” “I…” deciding to be honest, or as much as I dared to be I blurted out, “Mom, don’t you think that suit is a bit much?” Mom narrowed her eyes and looking down at her chest, shrugged, causing her ample tits to bounce fetchingly, “What do you mean?” “Do I look bad?” she asked and to my dismay, stood up in front of me. I was now confronted with her tits at eye level as well as the sight of her flat hard stomach to which she had recently added a ruby stud piercing in her naval. I had the absurd urge to lean forward and kiss her stomach, but instead fought to keep my voice steady as I said, “Not at all, mom, in fact, ummm…maybe you look too good. Jack and his friends were all but drooling over you.” “Yes, Mark, it’s a turn on to have guys my son’s age staring at me and getting worked up. Just because I’m forty one doesn’t mean I’m dead. I work hard to stay in shape and I like being rewarded for it.” “Dad likes it too.” That sly smile returned, “He loves knowing these kids look at me, he likes me showing off.” “Did…did you guys just talk about that?” I asked her. “Why would you ask that?” for the first time, since I had come out there she looked serious. Mom was silent for a moment, then smiled, but this one seemed normal, “You’re a smart boy Mark. “Yes your father and I had a talk when he started traveling because I know a lot of guys his age who do start fooling around and picking up women and hookers and…” “Dad would never do that.” I told her. “He loves you, mom.” “I’m glad you see that.” She told me, placing her warm hand on my cheek. “Your father and I are very much in love and we love you too. We would never do anything that would hurt each other, only things we would…” she paused as if trying to think of what she would say next, “Enjoy.” “We’re a family and we should do things as a family. We should love together and have fun together, even if it seems odd.” Mom frowned and it hit me she seemed as if she had said something she shouldn’t have. “Well I mean me dressing like this. When we spoke, dad said I was very sexy and he wished I would show it more. He said he likes it when guys check me out so I’ve been flaunting it a bit.” She looked down at me and shrugged, “So since it makes me happy you should just go along with it.” “Umm, okay.” I said, trying to get off the awkward subject. “Sure.” I said trying not to sound nervous. “You’re my mother.” I told her, “I…I don’t see you like that.” “You….” I tried to speak around the growing tightness in my throat. “You’re beautiful mom.” “Thank you!” she smiled, “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I want to know if you think I’m, you know, a cougar or a milf?” Midlife. The thought hit me like a slap in the face. That was all this was about. She was older, dad was going to be around younger women, she was worried she might not still have it and was trying to turn back the clock. I felt a wave of relief flood through me. That could even explain her wanting more attention and affection from me. I was no longer her little boy which to her was another sign of her age. This didn’t address my own issues of seeing her exactly how it appeared she wanted to be seen, but if this was a mid life crises then it was just a phase and soon she would go back to normal and I would too. Taking a chance it wouldn’t be the wrong thing to do, I managed a low whistle and smiling shook my head, “You’re the hottest mom I know, you could be on those web sites!” Mom laughed and after kissing me affectionately on the cheek said, “Hey what web sites? What are you looking at on that lap top of yours?” “I…” again I blushed, but she waved her hand. ‘I don’t care, Mark. You’re a man now,” she touched my chest again “And an impressive one at that. You want to watch porn go for it,” she winked, “I watch it all the time!” Mom leaned forward until her tits were inches from my face and putting her lips so close to my ear I could feel her breath said, “I like to watch those sites you’re talking about where the women my age have sex with guys your age. In fact I was thinking of it when Jack was staring at me, thinking about what he would do to me.” “T…tmi again,” I tried to laugh, but nothing came out. “And again, I guess I’m supposed to be dead,” she sighed softly in my ear and beneath my hands my aching cock twitched. Mom put her arm around me and surprised me by giving me a hug that left her tits pressing against my chest. “I love you baby.” She whispered. “I…I love you to.” I replied trying not to think about the warm pleasant sensation of her chest.. Mercifully, she leaned back and I asked, “What’s with calling me baby?” The midlife thing, I reminded myself, “No,” I said with a smile, “I’ll always be your baby, mom.” “Ohh,” she purred again, “I like that,” she looked down and with a small smile said, “Hey Mark?” “I…” I panicked as I had no idea what to say. Mom quickly made it worse with her next remark. “No!” I exclaimed a little too quickly, “Just uh…comfortable.” “Mark, you look anything but comfortable right now,” she pointed out. “You look nervous.” Mom made me even more nervous by sinking back down to her knees between my legs again. “I’m fine,” I said sounding anything but, “Just tired I…hey!” Mom had grabbed my wrists and tried to pull them from my lap. My fear was causing my erection to dwindle, but not quickly enough. I resisted and looking at me, her smile gone, Mom said, “Mark, move your hands, now.” I fought against her another moment, then let her move my hands. Mom looked at my hands first as if she thought I was hiding something in them, which made me feel a little better, but then her eyes dropped to my lap and I saw them widen. I followed her gaze and had to stifle a groan at the obvious bulge in my shorts. Mom looked at me, a small smile playing about her lips, but didn’t say anything; I was ready to blurt out an apology when I jumped at the sound of dad’s voice behind me. “Nothing!” I declared way too loudly and far too quickly. “We were just fooling around.” Mom said, smiling up at dad who had come around the chair to face us. “Yeah, that’s what it looked like,” he laughed, “Tell you what Rachel; you don’t want to know what that looked like from upstairs.” I felt my face growing hot yet again; this was exactly what I had been afraid of. Sitting back on her knees, mom rolled her eyes, “You’re such a pervert Joe, he’s my son for Christ’s sakes.” “I know,” he waved his hand at us, “I’m only kidding, but I did find myself wondering if those goons next door were watching.” “I hope they were watching earlier.” Mom smiled up at him, “Because then it was exactly what this looks like.” “Guys please!” I said as, now with my cock sufficiently shriveled, I stood up. “Keep it to yourselves!” “But it’s more fun to share.” Mom laughed and as I looked down saw her face was level with my crotch. I quickly stepped backwards and rolling my eyes, said, “I hang out with Jack all the time, I don’t need him seeing you guys, you know…” “That’s called TMI, Joe.” Mom said as she finally got to her feet and giving dad a quick kiss began to walk towards the house. I stared at Mom’s almost bare ass while she walked across the deck and swore she was swinging her hips more than she needed to. Her firm ass had no jiggle to it at all and I swore if I didn’t know her I would think she was a girl my age. Here is mom! goo.gl/5WAoIf “What?” I asked, snapping out of my fog and looking over at dad, who was smiling. “Your mom’s got one hell of an ass, doesn’t she?” “Oh, please,” Dad slapped me on the shoulder, “She’s your mom, but she’s a woman and a damn fine one, don’t you think?” “For any age.” He said as he continued to watch her. I didn’t answer, instead I watched him watch mom and thought my parents did make a good looking couple. Dad was a couple of years older than mom, but except for a few grays near his temples looked much younger. I definitely took after him, having the same thick black hair and a pair of deep green eyes that got me a lot of compliments from the girls. I was a little shorter than dad and as of right now, not quite as broadly built, but the time at the gym was paying off and I had bet him I would be able to beat him at arm wrestling before the year was out. Dad finally looked over at me and asked, “So what was up with you and mom, looked like you were giving her a hard time?” “Why not?” he smirked, “Hot woman wants you in the pool, you go, no?” “If she wasn’t my mother.” When he shrugged I paused and thought about Mom’s odd behavior. Dad and I had a great relationship and I’d always been able to talk to him about anything so taking the plunge I asked, “Hey, dad, can I talk to you?” When I’d first started talking he’d looked as if he were lost in thought, but now his eyes were focused on mine. “Come on, dad, look at that bikini, she didn’t dress like that when I was a kid, never mind lately.” “She didn’t because you were a kid and she didn’t want to be that mom that the old frumpy looking mom’s called a slut, she toned it down because she was a mother.” “She’s still a mother.” I pointed out. “Yeah but you’re a man now Mark.” Putting his arm around me he continued, “Look I get it, it’s embarrassing, you’re best friends gawking at her, pointing her out to his friends, busting you up because your mom’s a cougar and…” “Yeah, I made a comment about the bikini it makes me…uncomfortable; I mean her boobs were almost falling out.” “Well I’m glad you know you can talk to us Mark,” he squeezed my shoulder with his large hand so hard I winced, “I’ve always been glad that we’re a close family and I want us to be even closer, that’s why I feel like an ass with this job right now.” “I’ll do anything for you, Mark,” he said, giving me another painful squeeze, “And I hope someday you’ll do anything for me and mom.” “There might be a favor I might need from you soon, but for now back to Mom,” he sighed, “Look Mark, she’s a sexy woman and she’s at an age she needs to flaunt it and be told she is. She told me last night it drives her crazy to think those kids are jerking off to her, she…” “She said that?” I was appalled. “Please, Mark, like I said, she is a woman and honestly I like the idea of other guys wanting what I have. So, don’t worry about it. It might be a little awkward for you with your friends, but you can deal with it.” “Yeah, well she’s being really affectionate lately too, and…” I sighed, “She’s making me a little uncomfortable.” Dad turned so that he was standing directly in front of me and with an odd look on his face, asked, “How so? What do you mean uncomfortable?” Shit, what an idiot! What was I supposed to do, tell my father my mother was getting me horny? “Mark?” He was looking at me and seemed excited for some reason. “I still don’t see what you’re getting at.” He shook his head. “Dad, she was on her knees and you said you knew what it looked like.” I put my head down feeling like a moron. “I was just kidding about that!” Dad laughed, “I knew nothing was happening.” “But…it just wasn’t proper I guess.” I looked back up at him. “She crawled over to me, like…” “I felt like I was in some type of weird sick movie.” I heard my voice crack and was surprised that I was starting to get upset. Looking away as I spoke, I added, “I felt like she was messing with me.” Dad stared at me for a moment then nodded as if in resignation, “Okay, well seeing you’re thinking like that I’ll fess up; I was watching out the window and mom saw me and was putting on a show for me. She wasn’t trying to make you feel weird.” “And as far as being affectionate goes, your mom is lonely when I’m gone, plus she misses you wanting to be close to her, so just let her get close to you okay? It makes her feel good.” He smiled, “Can you do that for me? Be good to your mother when I’m not around?” “Sure.” I told him with a smile. “I’ll take good care of her.” “Good,” he said with a wink, “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” I opened my eyes at the sound of someone yelling. I sat up quickly in the recliner then rolled my eyes when I realized it was only the TV. I’d dozed off during the Sox game and the announcer had begun yelling when one of the Indian’s hit a two run bomb over the green monster. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes until I could make out the score. “Six to nothing?” I sighed and slumping back in the comfortable chair wished I’d stayed asleep. I picked up the remote and pointed it at the TV preparing to change the channel when Mom said from behind me, “Hey I wanted to watch some of that?” “Why bother?” I asked, but replaced the remote on the arm of the chair, “They’re losing.” “Don’t be a fair weather fan.” Mom chided, “And how come you’re not on the couch?” She had walked around in front of me and I saw immediately why I had not picked the couch. Mom was wearing a short red robe that barely went down past her ass, leaving her long legs bare. The robe was tied tightly around her waist, but the chest was open far enough to show almost as much of her tits as the bikini did this morning. When I had come into the living room I had headed for the couch, but recalling how she had been hanging all over me lately had chosen the chair. I had definitely made the right choice there was no way in hell I needed to have her that close to me dressed like that. “I figured I would let you stretch out if you wanted too.” I told her. Mom stepped in front of me, blocking the TV and placing her hands on the arms of the chair, leaned over. My eyes widened as I thought for a second her tits were going to fall out, but I saw a hint of black lace. I was still confronted with way more cleavage than was comfortable, but a bra was always a plus, especially these days. She gave me the pout and as I stared at her, I took in how soft and smooth her features were even without make up and how her long red hair looked down and lying across the robe. My eyes focused on those perfect lips and I had to say, mother or not, she really was beautiful. I made to get up, hoping she would stand up and get her tits out of my line of sight, but instead she gave me a huge smile, “Hey, how about we both sit here!” Mom turned around and before I could react, sat down in my lap. Turning to the side, she draped her long legs over the side of the chair and putting her arm around my shoulders laughed, “How’s this!” “Sitting on your lap silly,” looking up into my face, she smiled, “Its only fair, how many years did you sit in my lap?” “Yeah, but I was a kid.” I told her, trying to ignore the way her robe had ridden up to show her lush thighs. “So, for tonight I can be your little girl.” Mom put on the pout, but more disconcerting was the way she started wiggling in my lap. I was wearing a thin pair of running shorts and her ass was grinding directly on my cock. Her hair was in my face and I could smell her raspberry scented shampoo. I turned my head away and stared at her long legs, which she was now playfully kicking back and forth. Turning from her legs, I made the mistake of looking straight down and was now confronted with a glimpse of her black lace covered tits. Even as to my dismay my cock started to swell I wondered why the hell she would be wearing a bra like that at night. That thought turned into wondering if her panties, if she was even wearing any, would match. The thought my mother’s bare pussy could be pressing into my lap caused my cock to grow more rapidly and I swallowed hard as I wondered if it were smooth or if she would have a nice red fiery bush. Mom brought me out of my improper musings when she slid further down and her ass rubbed across my now noticeably hard cock. I had to bite back a moan at the contact and hoped to hell she couldn’t feel it. Mom was smiling at me, but had been since she had come over. I returned the smile as best I could and as I thought of how to tell her to get the hell off me I turned to side and my eyes widened. The window on that side of the parlor was open with the blinds up. There was a three family house next door and anyone looking this way would be able to see right in the room. My parents were friendly with all three couples that lived there and if they looked over what they would see is my half dressed mother sitting on her sons lap like a playful girlfriend. Even though my father didn’t seem bothered by mom’s weird behavior, I didn’t need the neighbors wondering if there was something a little strange going on when dad wasn’t around. “Mom, people can see in the window!” I told her. Mom peered over and shrugged, “Yeah, so what?” “You’re half dressed and…” I stopped myself from pointing out that she appeared to be all over her son. “Besides, the Morrison’s go out every Friday night, Bill and Nancy on the second floor went away for the weekend and the third floor can’t see in here.” She gestured to the other side of the room that faced the street. “The blinds are down where anyone could see from the street.” “Yeah, but still…” I glanced back out the open window and froze when I saw a tall figure looking over the fence from the yard next door. Because the light was on inside and it was dark outside I couldn’t make out any details except to see over the fence they had to be pretty tall and their shoulders were wide, telling me it was a guy; a pretty big guy. They were facing the window and I had no doubt had been staring into it. “Mom, let me up!” I exclaimed, sitting up so fast, I almost dumped her off my lap. Mom gave a startled yelp and as I surged to my feet, she managed to get hers on the floor. She staggered slightly, catching my arm for balance and yelled, “Mark, what’s the matter with you?” “There’s…” I pointed out the window, but saw the figure had gone. “There was someone next door, staring at us!” Mom walked closer to the window, pulling her robe tighter around her as she did. Leaning over she shut the lamp off on the end table so she could see better and looked out the window. “I don’t see anyone Mark.” “They were there, staring over the fence.” Walking over to the door, I slipped my sneakers on, “I’m going to go out back and look around.” “Don’t bother, it was probably Jimmy from the third floor, he’s a nosebag. Wouldn’t be surprised if he were that peeping Tom people said they saw last summer.” She turned away from the window and to my relief pulled the blind down before turning the lamp back on. “I don’t think so mom. That fence back there is five feet and it was only up to this guys chest, Jimmy’s five seven if he’s lucky.” I grabbed the doorknob, “I’ll be right back.” “Mark, don’t worry about it.” She said, and then patted the chair, “Come back and sit down,” she sighed, “If you don’t want me sitting on your lap, just say so, don’t make up an excuse to get up.” “No, it’s…” I paused, confused, I really hadn’t wanted her there, but now I didn’t want to make her feel bad. “I saw someone mom, I swear and dad’s not home and who knows? Maybe it’s someone who’s been watching us.” Mom gave me an odd look, and then pursed her lips as if she were thinking hard about something. After a minute, she nodded and said, “Okay, go ahead, but I know there’s no one there.” I opened the door and after closing it behind me, took a few steps around towards the back yard. I stopped when I remembered the sensor light was out in the back and quickly went back into the house to grab the flashlight. When I opened the door, mom was on the phone with her back to me and I heard her say, “Not going to happen this way.” She paused, “So do it the other way we talked about.” Mom must have heard me walking past her, as she turned around, her eyes wide, and stammered, “Uh, hey Carol. Hold on okay?” pulling the phone from her ear, she asked, “I thought you were going out back.” “I want the flashlight.” I walked into the dining room and pulling open the drawer in the hutch pulled out the flashlight, as I turned it on to make sure it worked, I asked, “Who are you talking to?” “Carol from next door,” she placed her hand over the phone, “We were talking about how she’s planning a party for Roger.” I walked past her and heading for the door, heard her call out, “Hey Mark, they’re not coming home tonight and the reason she called was she couldn’t remember if she locked the back door, can you check for her?” “Yeah, sure,” I answered while going back outside. I walked across the lawn staying close to the house and feeling like a fool, but wanting to be careful, I ducked my head when I reached the fence so if anyone was on the other side they wouldn’t see me. I had just reached the corner of the fence when I thought I heard footsteps moving up the driveway of the house next door. I turned the corner in a crouch and flashed the light up the long driveway, but all I saw was the third floor’s Toyota parked in front of the garage. Still staying close to the fence, I walked along the length of the drive way until I reached the corner where the fence joined that of the house behind ours. I looked over the fence at our house and figured this was about where the guy I saw had been standing. Even with the shade down, I could just make out Mom standing in the middle of the room and I could only imagine the view the creep had gotten when the window was open and mom was in my lap. I shined the light into the backyard and across the pool, and then quickly brought it up as I swore I saw movement along the fence across from me. I swept the light across the length of the yard, but didn’t see anything. Maybe I hadn’t seen anyone, after all I couldn’t make out any details, just a shape, could have just been a trick of the shadows from a lit room. Shutting off the flashlight I walked across the driveway and as Mom had asked me to do, checked the back door. It was locked and now walking normally along the fence I crossed the lawn and entered the house. “You were right,” I said as I walked into the living room, “There was no one…” I stopped in mid sentence at the sight of mom sitting on the couch. She had her hands folded in her lap and was looking at me. Her eyes were wide and she seemed to be looking past me. “Mom?” I took another step towards her, “You okay?” “Your mom’s just fine,” a deep voice said behind me, “In fact, she’s real fine!” I spun around and dropped the flashlight at the sight of a large man dressed all in black, including, despite the heat, a ski mask, leaning against the wall. “If I wanted you to know who I was, I wouldn’t be wearing a mask, now would I? ” he shrugged, “But seeing we’re going to get to know each other pretty well, just call me, I don’t know, Glen will do.” Even through my shock, I noticed the guy’s voice was weird, abnormally deep and sort of mechanical. Again, my mind working faster than I would have thought it could, I was reminded of the voice distorter I had bought at the Halloween store a couple of years ago when I’d dressed as a ghoul. “Yeah, Mark,” Glen pointed at the recliner, “Go sit down.” “Fuck you.” I snapped, taking a step towards him, “You better get the hell out…” She stopped, but I didn’t need her to finish the sentence as Glen lifted his sweatshirt to show the handle of a gun protruding from his belt. I stopped in my tracks and he nodded. “Good boy, trying to stick up for your mommy, but why don’t you listen to what she says and take a seat?” I looked over at mom, who nodded at me and started to go over to sit next to her on the couch. I hesitated and mom pointed, “Go over there, Mark.” She gave me a forced smile, “It’ll be okay, just do what he says.” My legs were trembling as I walked over and sat down in the recliner and Glen laughed, “You do listen to mommy, don’t you?” he pointed over at her, “Then again, I would have done anything my mother wanted if she looked like that.” Neither of us said anything and looking over at me, he asked, “You like how your mother looks, Mark?” “I asked you a question.” Reaching down he tapped the handle of the gun, “See here’s the deal, we’re going to have some fun tonight, Mark. In fact I bet you’re going to have just the kind of fun the two of you have been dying for.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Mom asked, “Look, you have my wallet and I told you there’s no more…” “You speak when spoken to.” Glen told her harshly. “Right now I’m talking to your son.” Mom looked as if she were going to continue, but stopped. “That’s better and don’t worry honey, that pretty little mouth will be busy soon enough.” I felt a stab of fear through my stomach, “Don’t hurt her.” I told him. “You are a good boy.” He nodded approvingly, “A real mama’s boy, aren’t you?” “Bet you wanna be your mother’s boy.” He laughed nastily, “Take good care of her.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Mom asked. “Oh, please,” Glen waved his hand at her, “I’ve been watching the two of you. You’re real close aren’t you?” “My husband’s going to be home any minute now.” Mom said quickly, “You…” “Oh, no, your lame old man is gone for the next few days. Like I said I’ve been watching and you’re a real cock tease aren’t you mommy?” “No? What’s with that little bikini and all those little dresses you’ve been wearing lately? And funny how much you like to show off for your little boy! Hell today I thought you were going to blow him by the pool!” Holy shit, he had been watching us! Mom shook her head, and said, “I don’t like what you’re trying to say.” “No? You don’t like hearing the truth? That you want to fuck your son you little whore?” “Hey watch…” I began, but stopped when he swung around on me. “And you’d love it if she did wouldn’t you? Probably jerk off to her don’t you?” “You’re sick.” I told him, but could feel myself blushing. “Me? I’m not the one who wants to fuck my mother,” He laughed loudly, “But I’m going to like watching you fuck yours.” “What?” Mom and I both exclaimed at the same time. “You heard me; I told you we were going to play a game. I’ve been watching and I want to see you both get what you want, each other.” “Oh, you do.” Glen told me, “And hey, I don’t blame you, she’s fucking hot! Pretty, nice body.” He pointed at me, “You want that body don’t you?” Before I could answer he turned to mom, “Take your robe off.” “I won’t!” Mom declared, “You…” she stopped when he tapped the gun. “Listen to me both of you; you will do what I say.” He pointed at her, “You, you little slut are going to fuck your son.” “I won’t do it!” I yelled, “You…” “Fine,” he said with a shrug, “Then I’ll tie you up and you can watch me fuck her. But I figure the other way we all get what we want.” He turned back to mom, “Now, take off your robe.” Mom stared at me for a moment, then standing up, reached down and untied her robe. I looked over to see Glen watching her. He had pushed himself away from the wall and was now standing behind the chair between the couch and where I was sitting. He was too far away for me to leave the chair and reach him before he would see me. The best I could do was hope that he wasn’t really going to hurt us and the only thing he wanted was…My heart skipped a beat when my stunned mind finally acknowledged the thought he wanted to watch my mother have sex with me! Across from me Mom had untied her robe and let it fall to the floor. I swallowed hard when I saw what she had on beneath it. Mom was wearing a black bra the cups of which were lace and even from across the room I could see the shadow of her nipples behind the thin material. The bra was accompanied by a matching black thong that was little more than string with a patch of lace between her legs. “You always wear lingerie when your home with your son?” Glen asked, “You still going to deny it?” “I like feeling sexy.” Mom said with her head down. He turned to me and when I shrugged, raised his voice, “Answer me!” At that volume his voice sounded even stranger and I was sure he was using some type of voice box. That thought disturbed me because it meant it might be someone we knew. He had said he’d been watching us. My thoughts were cut off when I saw him take a step towards mom. “Yes, she’s sexy.” I blurted out. “Good boy.” Glen lowered his voice, “See, that’s all I want tonight, some honesty from both of you.” He pointed at Mom, “Turn around, show your son that fine ass of yours.” Mom hesitated long enough for him to sigh and reach for his waistband, then bringing her hands up, placed them in her hair and raised her arms over her head. As she took her long red hair up with her hands, she turned around slowly, and despite our frightening predicament, my eyes immediately found her ass. The thong was little more than a string between the cheeks of her ass and I couldn’t help but notice how round and firm looking her ass was. Sensing Glen staring at me, I forced my eyes upward and took in the smooth creamy skin of mom’s back. Not wanting to look as if I was indeed looking more than I should be I dropped my gaze, but not before catching a quick look at the backs of mom’s long well shaped legs. “Yeah, my mom dressed like that when we were alone at night.” He grunted, glancing my way he asked, “Hey Mark, you think your mother has nice tits?” As he spoke he came around the chair and sat down in it, putting him between us. “I know who she is, now answer the question.” “You’re sick, you know that right?” Mom asked him as she turned back around to face us. “You’re wearing Victoria secret and sitting on your son’s lap and I’m sick?” he laughed, “Okay maybe I am, but I can admit it. Now shut up, so Mark can answer.” Play a long; I told myself, something will happen to get us out of this. “Uh, yeah she has a nice chest.” I answered. “My…mother has nice tits.” I said softly, looking away from her as I spoke. “Look over here when you speak.” Glen demanded. When I did as he said he asked, “Want to see them?” “Liar, you stare at them all the time.” He wagged his finger at me, “Remember I’ve been watching and whenever she isn’t looking at you, you’re fucking gawking at her. Now I told you the rules are you answer honestly and do what I say. Now tell me you want to see your mother’s tits.” “Just say it, even if it’s not true.” Mom said, “Just give him what he wants.” “Just what I want?” The mask had a thin film over the eyes to protect them from bad weather, but I could sense him rolling them behind it. “But, whatever, that’s some good advice from your slutty mom over there, you just play along.” He paused, “So, Mark want to see mommy’s tits?” “I…okay I guess.” I muttered as my heart started pounding at the thought I really wouldn’t mind seeing them, but could think of a thousand better scenarios to do so. “Better than that!” he shouted, “You two aren’t stupid and you know what I want so fucking give it to me! You both want it so act like you do!” he put his hand on the gun and looking at me said, “Now answer my question like one of the kids in those stupid porns you watch when their mother wants to fuck them.” I felt my heart skip a beat at the same time my face flushed deep red. How the hell did this guy know what I watched on my lap top? I always had my blinds down, had he hacked us somehow? Worse was the stunned look on mom’s face when he said it. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath I said, “I really want to see my mother’s tits.” “A minute ago you said play along.” He told her. “Listen to your own advice. Now go ahead Mark, ask mommy to show you her pretty titties.” I looked helplessly at mom who after looking into my eyes gave me a slight nod. “Go ahead, Mark, its okay.” “Mark, what happened to baby?” he laughed. Mom stared hard at him and again I wondered how close this guy had gotten to us to know this. “Baby,” Mom said, while still looking at him, “Your mother will do anything for you, all you have to do is ask.” “Oh, I like that!” he clapped his hands. Gesturing to me, he added, “Now that should make you stop being such a wuss, follow mommy’s example and let’s go.” “Mom,” I began my voice trembling, “C…can I see your tits? Mom’s answer was to reach behind her and unhook her bra. I could feel my pulse pounding in my temples as she slowly slid the straps from her shoulders and after a brief pause, tossed the bra on the floor. “Oh.” I whispered unable to help it at the sight of my mother’s bare breasts. They were even more amazing than I had envisioned them. Even though they were large, they were still high and proud. Her breasts were smooth and milky white with the only color being the light pink of her nipples. I noticed her nipples were hard and barely heard Glen whistle, “Damn, your mother’s got some nice tits, doesn’t she?” “Yes.” I said without thinking as my eyes stayed focused on her nipples. “Now is that anyway to show your son your tits? Come on, mom, show those babies off!” Mom sighed and cupping her tits, lifted them higher. To my surprise she started caressing her nipples with her thumbs and I saw she was breathing heavier as she did. “That’s it! But I think you’re too far away, go over to your son and let him get a nice close look at them.” Still holding her tits up, Mom slowly walked over to me. I sat there with my mouth open as she stood between my legs. Her tits were little more than a foot from my face and to my amazement I felt my cock stiffening between my legs. Again I lowered my eyes, but only to be confronted with the smooth skin of her stomach and worse, the patch of lace between her thighs. My words came out in a pathetic whimper as even with an armed intruder sitting ten feet away from me, I couldn’t imagine my tongue on those nipples. “Mom, you better talk to your son, because I’m getting ready to take over for him and fuck you myself.” Releasing her tits, mom put her hands on my shoulders and leaning over, placed her lips at my ear. “Baby, listen to me. This guy is sick, but I think if we do what he wants, we’ll be okay.” “But…” I trailed off at the sight of Mom’s tits now inches from my face. “Mark, he’s armed and I don’t want to give him a reason. I…if I have to do something dirty tonight I would rather it be with you, not him.” “You’re my mother.” I whispered and honestly at that point I felt I was trying to convince myself of that fact. “I know and that’s why he’s sick, this is what he wants and…” she paused when that deep voice called out, “As much as I like looking at that fine ass, you better get sonny boy to play along, before I show him how it’s done.” Mom tensed up, but her voice in my ear was calm. “Mark, do you really watch those videos?” “Then what we’re going to do is pretend we’re in one, okay?” she caused me to gasp when I felt her tongue graze my ear. “You and I are going to play our own game; we’re going to act like strangers playing a dirty game and do what he wants.” goo.gl/fNYPkp mom her tits. “I don’t think I can.” I said even as I felt my now hard cock straining against my shorts. “Just think of me as a sexy older woman and not your mom.” She said, “You can do it, baby, you have to.” “Will never know, no one will, just our little secret.” This time it was her lips that touched me, placing a soft kiss just below my ear. “Just relax, let me take care of you and we’ll worry about everything else later, okay?” Let me take care of you. Those words were spoken in that purr she had been using lately and a soft moan escaped me when her lips again found my flesh, but this time lower on my neck. “How about he gives his mother a nice kiss first?” Mom asked, looking back at him, “Cut the kid some slack and let me get him relaxed, okay?” “Kiss?” he paused, “Fine, but take his shirt off first.” He laughed, “That way you can be nipple to nipple. Reaching down, Mom grabbed my shirt and whispered, “Come on, baby, arms up!” Trying to do as mom had said and pretend, I did the best I could to forget about the stranger in our house and lifted my arms up for her. Mom slipped my shirt over my head and after giving me a wink, started rubbing her hands up and down my chest. “Oh, my baby has been working out hasn’t he? Hmmm” she purred, “Is the rest of you as hard as these muscles?” Behind her Glen clapped his hands and called out, “That’s much better! You’re a real sport mom! Course we all know this is what you wanted anyway!” Ignoring him, Mom slid her hands up my chest one more time and then taking my face in her hands, leaned forward and pressed those soft full lips to mine. I whimpered as she kissed me, and then gasped when she leaned further and I felt her nipples pressing into my chest. Although my lips hadn’t responded, mom moaned in her throat and working her arms around my shoulders pulled me closer to her. She kissed me harder, and then whispered against my face, “Kiss me back, baby, and put your arms around my waist, remember, just like the movies” Mom returned to kissing me and this time I tentatively returned it, my lips pushing against hers. Mom purred again and worked her lips back and forth across mine. As I started kissing her harder, I put my arms around her waist and placing my hand on her warm back slid it up through her long hair. “Hmmm-mmm,” Mom encouraged as her lips pressed hard against mine. She rocked side to side causing her hard nipples to slide across my chest and whispered, “Close your legs.” I did as she asked, and she swung her legs onto the chair on either side of mine so she was straddling me on the chair. I tensed up at the sound of his voice and mom said softly, “Just me, baby, just focus on me. You’re doing just fine.” She returned to kissing me and I gasped when her tongue darted out and pushed against my lips. I parted them and Mom sighed as her tongue entered my mouth and caressed mine. She was now rocking front to back, grinding her hips in my lap and even through her thong and my shorts I could feel the heat between her legs. Her hard nipples were poking into my chest and she was now moaning softly as her tongue played against mine. Mom’s hands had slipped between us and were rubbing my chest again and I felt a sense of the surreal come over me as my mother gave me the equivalent of a lap dance while some guy with a gun watched. His tone was firmer than before and recalling his words that he was done playing, I dropped my hand down mom’s back until I was cupping the cheeks of her ass. Mom gasped when I gave them a hard squeeze and so did I at how firm her ass really was. She ground harder into my lap and I had no doubt she could feel how hard I was. We were both sweating and it added to the sensation of our now slick chests rubbing together. Mom sat back on my lap, and once again cupped her breasts. I stared longingly at them, but couldn’t move. “Let’s go Mark!” I was aware of movement and saw him get up. Coming over, he pushed the lamp off the end table and sat on it, so he was only a couple of feet to our left. “Say it!” “I said tell her, don’t ask her!” he said forcefully. “You’re taking your mother, not asking permission!” Just like the movies, I told myself, but remained silent. I jumped as leaning over, Glen swung his hand and slapped mom’s ass, hard. She cried out and I immediately blurted, “Mom, put your fucking tit in my mouth!” “Yes, baby!” Mom said softly and leaning forward pushed her right tit into my face. Feeling like a drowning man going down for the last time, I opened my mouth and quickly sucked her hard pink nipple into it. “Oh, yes.” Mom purred and started rocking again. “You like your son sucking your tits, you little slut?” “Oh, yes!” she moaned as I swirled my tongue around her hard nub, “I love my baby, sucking my tits! I want him to have anything he wants!” I switched and as I sucked on her other nipple, Mom wrapped her arms around me and played with my hair. I obediently opened my mouth and despite my nervousness, made a show of tracing a slow wet circle around mom’s swollen flesh. “Yeah, that looks good.” Glen said softly, “The two of you look hot together, shit I jerked off watching at the pool today and this is even better!” Mom grabbed my wrist and brought my hand to her other breast. I rolled her nipple between my fingertips and her moan sent a shiver through me. Either she was one hell of an actress or… I shook my head around her nipple, but when Glen raised his hand to slap her ass again, I gave her a hard pinch. Mom yelped, and with a laugh he said, “Do it again.” I did as he said and she yelped louder this time. I took that nipple gently into my mouth and started playing with the other. Without him asking I gave it a light pinch, but mom yelped as if I had done it much harder.

I would have loved to give this book a one-star review, but I can’t. The reason I can’t give it a one-star review is because it was written fairly well and on a subject that matters. That being said, being a strong writer isn’t all it takes for an author to be able to write a good rape novel. Abuse and trauma novels are tough to write because the subjects are hard to stomach. Although these books are naturally tough due to their subject matter, a good writer would be able to represent the destruction that happens after one is raped but still encapsulate the ways to heal, even if the victim is getting no support from those around them. Rape novels are often read by those who have experienced the traumatic event. I know that’s why I read them. A lot of people question why I read rape novels because I am a rape victim. The thing is, I read rape novels because I am a rape victim. I feel the pain of the victim in the story because I have felt that pain directly. I have gotten to a place where I have healed significantly. Because I know what it feels like to be in the spot of feeling completely victimized and I have gotten out of that mentality, I fight for the victim of the story to get out of that headspace. When the victim eventually works her way towards being a survivor and has healed a little bit or at least gotten validation for being a victim, I heal a little bit with them. Sometimes, rape novels provide different healing techniques that a victim didn’t think of. Asking For It does none of that. Louise O`Neill spends quite a bit of time developing her main character Emma, which is fine, but Emma is a fairly dislikable character. I’m in no way trying to say that Emma deserved what happened to her, but it is harder to feel sympathy for a character an author has made you hate. Then, Emma is raped. We, as readers, learn about the destruction that has occurred in Emma’s life, which is what rape novels do. However, most rape novels don’t get explicit details. Louise O`Neill tells us how Emma was raped in such detail that we even know the boys that raped her urinated on her unconscious body. Rape is an extremely traumatic event in anyone’s life; it doesn’t matter what the details of the rape. Throughout the book after Emma is raped, she struggles to come to terms with the fact that being gang raped is not her fault. And while we dislike Emma for her less-than-stellar personality before she was raped, we still want her to realize that she didn’t do anything to deserve what happened to her. We may not like her, but being gang-raped and left for dead on her front stoop after she was drugged still makes us want her to be strong and realize that it was the boys` fault, not hers. Her parents blame her for what happened and so do all of her friends. We are furious at them for how they treat her, and we want them to start supporting their daughter and friend. The only person that puts the blame where it belongs is Emma’s brother. You are completely on his side, fighting for Emma to finally realize the truth. However, she never does. The book does not end with Emma healing. Instead, it ends with Emma giving up. Do not read this book if you want do not want to feel completely emotionally broken.

Posted by Ruthie Dean on Thursday, January 17, 2013 · 292 Comments   Michael is the writer of today’s post. I’m really proud of him for conveying such a tough message! I was talking with a group of Christian men the other day and was given astonishing insight into the current dating scene. As I sat down with them to talk about life, I found something concerning: none of them were asking women out. Does anyone go on dates anymore? Some had text-based relationships, but most of them were fearful of “messing up” or “ending up with the wrong one”. This fear caused them to seldom date and keep female relationships plutonic and confusing. THIS IS NOT OK. Ask any Christian woman over the age of 22 how she feels about Christian men’s dating game and she’ll most likely confirm what I’m witnessing. Christian men don’t know how to ask a girl out. Maybe it’s because we all kissed dating goodbye? Or maybe no one ever taught us how. I have no idea, but something needs to change. I’ve heard from Christian women that they either have said no to dating altogether (because the Christian guys don’t do any asking) or go on dates with men who aren’t Christians (because at least they are asking). I get it. I, too, was more of a prayer than a dater, until I had a number of older men sit me down and tell me to stop being afraid and take a girl to coffee. It’s not a marriage proposal. It’s just coffee. In looking for “The One”, Christian men can easily get caught not asking women out AT ALL because she might not be “The One”. Really? Enough of this nonsense. Why aren’t you asking? What are you afraid of?  Why are you hiding behind prayers, vague intentions, group hangouts, and TEXT MESSAGES? I’ve found myself wondering how do I encourage my brothers to GET OUT THERE and date. Real Christian men are needed to step up in this area. (Novel idea, I know.) The issue that many men run into, I know I did, is over spiritualizing the dating process. “What if I’m not going to marry her?” “What if I hurt her?” “What if I don’t like her after we date for a few weeks?” Praying about your dating life is of course advised, but there is such a thing as too much praying. Are you using prayer as a cop out? Is your prayer life a cover-up for your fear? Don’t know if she’ll say yes? That’s part of being a man! Men, listen up! Stop over praying and overanalyzing and start asking! Stop the group hangouts and text messages with no clear direction. If you are clearly leading her on step up and ask her out, or stop leading her on. Group hangouts are great, but find time for one on one where your intentions are clear. Dating 101: Start by finding a girl who you think is interesting and attractive. Ask her out in person or over the phone (no texting). After you go out, call her again and ask her out again. Shocking! Then if you decide that it just isn’t there, be straightforward. Tell her kindly you won’t be calling anymore because you aren’t interested in a romantic relationship. It will sting a little for her, but it’s better than leading her on for months and her having 372 discussions with her friends. Be a man and don’t hide behind vague intentions and confusing relationships. And ladies, if you are confused about a man’s intentions—just ask him to clarify. It’s your responsibility not to let him lead you on. You heard me: your responsibility. Men, imagine what it would be like if we started stepping up and took dating seriously?  If we didn’t over spiritualize it, but started taking girls out on dates and even sweeping them off their feet? You really don’t need to pray if she’s the one for you—you need to talk to her and ask her to go somewhere with you.