Susans Saturday Night Sex Ch 02

There are no characters under the age of 18 in this story. All characters portrayed are over the age of 21.

*

All about sex. Susan's Saturday night 4F ritual of finding them, feeling them, fucking them, and forgetting about the men she's had sex with gets her through her week.

Susan looked down at William who was comfortably positioned between her legs while eating her. He looked so young, perhaps twenty-six or twenty-seven. He made her wish she was that age again.

"Okay Mom," he said looking up at her from in between her legs. Pausing his licking of her, he looked at her with as much sexual excitement as he looked at her with curiosity.

She ran her long, thin fingers through his dark, brown hair.

"Let's do some role playing, shall we? Pretend that I'm your mother and you're my son Billy. Instead of calling me Susan, Sue, or Suzie, call me Mommy, Mom, and/or Mother," she said.

Waiting for his reaction, she waited for him to answer her before continuing.

"Okay Mom," he said seemingly sexually excited enough to call her Mom, Mommy, and/or Mother.

Having already baited him with her mother and son hook, reeling him in, she smiled that she had another fish on her line.

"Using your tongue and your fingers, and later your cock, if you were with your mother right now naked in bed with her instead of being here with me, show me what you'd do to your mother. Close your eyes," she said waiting for him to close his eyes. "Now imagine that you're with your mother instead of being here with me."

Again she paused while waiting for him to get in his role.

"I can see her," he said with sexual enthusiasm not doubt more for his mother than for her. "Oh, my God, this is so erotically exciting."

So very easy to manipulate, he was so predictable.

"Now imagine your mother here with you instead of you here with me. If I was your mother naked and in bed with you, what would you do to me that you'd love to do to her? Show me the incestuous, sexual lust you have for her by using some of that lustful, sexual desire on me," she said.

He stopped licking her to look up at her wide-eyed.

"Wow," he said. "Having sex with you is better than having sex with women my age. Having sex with you while pretending that you're my mother is way better than just having sex. More than just physical, it's cerebral. Having sex with you is as if I'm experiencing my sexual fantasy. I really like role playing," he said.

She smiled at him in the way she imagined his mother would smile at him.

"What does your mother look like? Tell me," she said already having an image of his mother in mind.

For some reason, as if she was a psychic instead of a psychiatrist, she imagined his mother tall, blonde, and thin instead of short and obese with dark hair. She's had sex with enough young men to know the image that they have of their mother is the description of her.

"She'd definitely way older than you," he said. "My Mom is forty-eight."

How old does he think I am? He must think that I'm thirty-something instead of forty-something.

"I'm not that much younger than your mother. I'll be forty-two on July 26th," said Susan.

"Wow! You're fifteen years older than I am. You don't look like you're going to be forty-two," he said. "I figured you were thirty-five."

How about that? He thinks I'm thirty-five. He just made my day. I wish I was thirty-five again, she thought to herself.

"Thank you," she said. "Tell me more about your mother. Describe her. What color is her hair?"

He looked up at her in the way that she imagined him looking at his mother while he was poised between his mother's legs.

"She's blonde. Only, her hair color is from a bottle. Somehow I can tell that you're a natural blonde," he said with a chuckle while pulling out some strands of her blonde, pubic hair to examine them.

With so many women wanting to be blonde, even those who don't have the fair complexion to carry the hair color, she was always proud of the fact that she was born blonde.

"What else about your mother that attracted you to me?"

He looked at her as if he was imagining his mother and she figured that, no doubt, he was.

"My Mom is pretty like you but she doesn't have your shapely body or your big tits. She has a flat ass and definitely doesn't have your incredible ass," he said running his hand beneath her to squeeze her naked ass. "She's thinner," he said. "Still, in the way that you talk and the things you say, you remind me of her and you have the same big, blue eyes."

She was starting to get the image of his mother. Falling into her comfort zone, something so difficult to turn off, she analyzed him as if she was analyzing a patient instead of a lover. Definitely, he likes her big tits. Definitely, he wishes his mother had big tits. For him to verbalize that she's a bottle blonde, definitely he wishes his mother was a natural blonde. Without a doubt, he likes her round, firm ass. Definitely, he's a man who would have sex with his mother if he could.

"So, it's not much of a stretch for you to pretend that you're having sex with your mother instead of having sex with me," she said looking down at him while running her long, thin fingers through his dark, brown hair. "Correct?"

She didn't even have to wait to hear his answers. She already knew them as if she was scripting this as a screenplay.

"Oh, God yes. Being with you naked is my sexual dream come true Mom," he said staring up at her as if to see the impact of him calling her Mom. "No offense, but I love thinking that I'm here with my mother instead of you," he said.

She smiled at him again while running her fingers through his hair.

"I don't mind that you're thinking of your mother naked more than you're thinking of me naked. I enjoy pretending that I'm your mother and that you're having sex with your Mom," she said.

* * * * *

Pushing all of his repressed, sexual buttons, obviously buttons that had never been pushed before, especially in such a public display of repressed, incestuous sexuality, suddenly, as if she had plugged him into a wall outlet, electrified with sexual passion, he became animated and energized. It's one thing to be in bed with a naked, beautiful woman but it's quite another thing to be in bed with a woman who's nearly old enough to be his mother while being encouraged to live out his sexual fantasy by calling her Mom, Mommy, and/or Mother. As if his tongue became her battery operated vibrator on overdrive, seemingly intent on sexually pleasing his mother, he licked her pussy with renewed sexual vigor. In the way that her big, hard dildo fucked her, his long, stiff fingers rubbed her clit and probed her in the way that she needed to be rubbed, fingered, and probed.

"I love you Mommy," he said not playing the game when voicing his loving sentiment but meaning it as if he was actually talking to his mother.

She remained unfazed by his sudden incestuous sentiment of his love for his mother. Already knowing that he loved his mother, really loved his mother, and no doubt with him wishing that she was indeed his mother and she was in bed with him naked, she expected no less of a sexual reaction from him. In the same way that she was emotionally detached from her patients, she was detached from her emotions of love and romance after having them severed by a bad, romantic breakup with Steven twenty years ago. With Steven ruining her for all romantic relationships and for all men, still taking its emotional toll on her, she didn't feel anything for him or for any man but contempt. Other than using a man for sex once a week, she had no need for a man in her life. It was just about sex with her. Sex, sex, and sex was all that she wanted and needed from men.

In the same way that one older man used and abused her and in the way that some older men continue to use and abuse young women, she used and abused young men. In the same way that some men, not all men, treat women with disrespect and contempt, especially young women, with young men the worst offenders, young men were the ones she treated with disrespect and contempt. Young men were the men that she enjoyed sexually using by having them give her an orgasm, Young men were the men that she emotionally abused by unmasking their mother fixations and holding that incestuous mirror up to their faces. Her way of getting even with men and of righting the wrongs for all that men have done to women by finding them, feeling them, fucking them, and forgetting them, she didn't feel bad about treating men in the same way they got away with treating women.

With nothing sane about what she was doing in having sex with a different man young enough to be her son once a week, the only explanation and the only justification she needed was that, generally, psychiatrists are crazier than their patients. Yet, when she suffers from those same issues of rejection too, being that she was certifiably insane with it came to her personal, sexual and emotional issues in dealing with men, who better suited than she is to understand those with mental illnesses and emotional disabilities than her? Who else can help the mentally ill and the emotionally disturbed than someone who suffers from the same afflictions, conditions, and issues but who possesses the educational credentials to prescribe them the medications they need than a doctor of psychiatry?

Not so much a game but with her holding onto something tangible and physical, she clung onto his young, hard, naked body as if she was clinging onto life itself. With sex more meaningful than having the give and take of a romantic relationship, and with her never wanting to go through that malarkey again, now it was just about sex with her and nothing else. Sex, sex, sex, in the way that most men only want a blowjob while feeling her big tits and fingering her erect, hard nipples, all she wanted out of any man was a talented finger, an experienced, willing tongue, and a big, hard cock. What better way to get what she wants by giving men what they need and what they need is pretending they're having sex with their mothers? Willing for them to use her while pretending that she's their mother, so long as they gave her an orgasm, it was a win/win proposition for both of them.

"I love you Mommy!"

Having heard those four words so very many times before, obviously I Love You Mommy was something that men needed to say to her while having sex with her and pretending that she was their mother. Their perverse peccadillo amazed even her not only how easily she could spot a man who wanted to have sex with his mother but how easily she could get him in bed to do all to her that he so wanted to do to his mother. Then, once she gave him her permission to live out his long-term, incestuous, sexual fantasy of having sex with his mother, it was then that his lovemaking took on a new dimension.

As if empowered by relaxing and being himself in his own sexual perversity, finding a woman that he could trust with his secret of mother and son incest, seemingly he found a soul mate in her. He found a woman who not only understands his wants and needs but also a woman who allowed him to explore his wants and needs by living out his erotic, sexual fantasy of having sex with his mother. If only he knew that their consensual, sexual union was more about her orgasm and nothing else than it was about him, she wondered what he'd say. In the good way that she gave them so much sexual pleasure, she didn't think that these young men minded her using them for her sexual pleasure too.

* * * * *

"Make Mommy cum. Finger me while licking me. That's right baby, stick your tongue and your finger deep inside of me. Lick me, lick me, lick me. Mommy wants to cum in your mouth," she said gently stroking his hair in the way that he no doubt imagined his mother touching him while eating her pussy.

It was not only all so easy to find the young men who'd readily play her sexy, twisted games of catch and release sex but it was also so easy to bed them. It was all so easy for her to get them to live out their sexual fantasies while pretending that she was their mother. As if she was a flimflam woman selling snake oil that was guaranteed to cure all ailments and afflictions, it was too easy for her to get all that she wanted and all that she needed from a young, handsome men who were nearly half her age. Manipulating young, impressionable men while controlling vulnerably naïve, young men, she played the mad doctor while they were her enlisted, albeit unpaid, volunteer, test subjects in her lab.

Once she found her next victim, she was able to entice any young man who locked eyes with her after just meeting him to take her home for sex. As if bring home an adopted puppy, in the way that puppies licked her face and ate out her hand, she had him licking and eating her pussy. If she spent any more time with him other than this one night, she could train him not only how to fetch, sit, and rollover but also how to sexually please her. Only, easily bored and limited in her intolerance of inane conversation, one night was all that she could give any young man. Bored to death after receiving her orgasm, there hasn't been one, young man who has held her interest long enough and entertained her well enough for her to stay with him longer than one night. They were all just warm bodies there to sexually satisfy her so that she could return to her work without being distracted by hormonal horniness.

Only, she didn't need any man to please her when she had herself to do that. So long as she had her once a week Saturday night sex, she was fine, thank you very much, without having a steady man in her life. Finding them, feeling them, fucking them, and forgetting them, she never spent more than a night with any young man. Not wanting to feel anything, especially obligation, commitment, and love, she only wanted to feel erotic pleasure and sexual gratification. Other than for one night of hot, passionate sex, once a week on a Saturday night, and all because of Steven, she was done with men.

"I love eating your pussy Mom. Cum Mom, please cum in my mouth," he said what they all say. "I want you to cum in my mouth Mommy. I want to taste you Mom."

Obviously with him just as crazy in his sexual lust for his mother as she was insane in her sexual lust for young men, she looked at him as if he was her son while running her fingers through his hair and at that incestuous moment, he was her son. One of her favorite positions to see a man in, between her legs while fingering her and licking her, she felt so empowered by a man passively while passionately licking her pussy. Feeling in control by giving him what he wanted while he gave her what she needed, she didn't see anything wrong with keeping their sexual secrets secret. The real litmus test that defined their perversity was that young men wouldn't want anyone to know that they were sexually attracted to their mothers and pretended to have sex with their mothers when with her. With her keeping her sexual life secret too, the real litmus test that defined her perversity is that she wouldn't want anyone to know that she had sex with a different young man every week.

"After you give me an orgasm baby, I'll give you one too," she said looking down at him when he looked up at her. "Would you like Mom to blow you? Would you like Mommy to suck your cock? Would you like to cum in your mother's mouth and watch her swallow your cum?"

As if she had just promised to take him to Disney World, he looked at her with excited, sexual glee. It's amazing what a few choice words coupled with a few empty promises would do for her sexually.

"Oh God yes Mom," he said momentarily stopping to lick her to answer her while looking up at her with obvious lust and incestuous thoughts in the way that he'd no doubt be looking at his mother, if indeed she was his Mom.

Pushing all of his erotic buttons with the words and the promises that he needed to hear, as if she was his sex therapist and he was her patient, she continued her role as his imagined mother.

"Tell me Billy and don't be shy," she said reiterating his own long, unsated sexual desire. "I need to hear you say it. Would you like to make love to your mother before you fuck your mother?"

* * * * *

With him still positioned between her legs while fingering her and licking her, she watched him sexually pleasuring her. As if she was observing a paid volunteer, test subject in her lab with a trained eye, she watched the obvious changes in his face, his widening eyes, his lowered lip, and his quick breathing answered her question without him even having to respond. She couldn't have diagnosed him wanting to have sex with his mother any better if his brain waves, breathing, and pulse rate were hooked up to and were monitored by her computer while he was asked a series of sexual and incestuous, thought provoking questions.

He reacted to her mother and son words in the way that Alex, played by Malcolm McDowell, did in Stanley Kubrick's Clock Work Orange when psychiatrists observed him while asking him a series of questions of sex and violence as he watched disturbing film footage of naked women. Forever lost, with him unable to focus on a woman his age, someone like him would never lose the sexual fantasy of having sex with his mother. With her making matters worse by feeding into his incestuous desire to have sex with his mother, instead of helping as a good doctor should, she used him for her selfish, sexual pleasure.

In the way she did with all of the other young men and with all of them wanting the same thing, to experience having sex with their mothers, she knew what they all liked. She knew what they all wanted. Inherently, she knew what they all needed. Even those young men who would never live out their sexual fantasy by having sex with their mothers, she knew that the incestuous thoughts still titillated them enough for her to control them by role playing out their sexual fantasy.

Sex, incestuous sex, was all that it was about after all. Whether they acted upon their incestuous sexual fantasy or not, mother and son sex is what all these young men wanted. Prepared and ready to give him all that he wanted and all that he needed, all he had to provide her with was an orgasm. Much easier now that he imagined he was having sex with his mother, with her the professional in psychiatry, this was all her game to play.

"Yes. I'd love to make love to you mother. I'd love to fuck mother. I'd love to fuck you hard and I'd love to fuck you deep Mommy," he said with the obvious sexual excitement that manifested for his mother that was now manifested and transferred to her.

As if he was positioned on her couch instead of in between her legs, she looked at him as if he was her patient and for all intents and purposes he was, albeit her sexual patient for her personal use and erotic abuse.

"Then, pretend that I'm your mother and you are having sex with your mother," she said whispering her words with seduction. "Make mommy cum and then you can make love to me before you fuck me and after I blow you while pretending that I'm your mother. How's that?"

As if she could read his mind and, in some regards, she could just by studying his behavior, she knew all the right things to say to him to get him going. In the way that a call girl erotically controls her client, armed with a Harvard education, a doctorate in psychiatry, as well as a doctorate in philosophy, she was like no call girl he'd ever meet, especially with her giving her sexual services away for free. All she asked in return was an orgasm. Seemingly a fair exchange, giving a young man his sexual fantasy while he pretended he was having sex with his mother, she needed an orgasm to soothe her spirit for her to return to work on Monday.