Sex Trainer For Hire Pt 07

Sex Trainer for Hire Pt. 07

13,000-ish words

Thanks to all of you for your supportive ratings on this series! I am so appreciative of your time spent reading and rating my works. Thanks also, for your encouragement in writing this and my other series, now with over a 100,000 views.

This is a continuing story of James' transformation from a shy eighteen-year-old student into a sexually active and maturing teenager. It flows from the previous six part evolution of James' initiation by a sexpert and his mother's first week of incestuous introductions. Today, James meets the good Doctor Fukhert and learns to deal with some shyness and emotional insecurity issues. Finally, James discovers the reason Mistress Teresa Anne gave him her business cards!

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I Woke Up Early on Sunday Morning!

Early morning dreams can seem so real and then quickly vanish the instant your mind climbs out of that fantasy state. The dream can slip away, lost along with whatever symbolic meaning it holds.

"I need my cock to be inside of you!"

The words breezed past my ear, and were swirled away by the wind...

The shaggy maned, white unicorn's throaty voice had whispered. At full gallop, across amber fields of grain, its words were hardly intelligible. The pleasure of feeling its powerful flanks surging between my thighs as my knees pressed against that amazing creature was joyous. It leaped over fences and bounded over streams with endless ease. Riding bareback, every lunge jolted my naked body with surges of pleasure. As each front hoof landed, I rocked forward. The lunging movements splayed my cunt apart; ripped wide for access. Each leap sent my breasts lurching upward and back down as its hooves beat heavily into the soft earth. Each skyward leap sent my breasts bouncing, feeling like lustful fingers were digging into my flesh. It was sex, raw sex rising, cresting, and resurging over the amber waves of grain. I could feel that wonderful horse's cock thrusting deeply inside my cunt; filling me; taking me for its pleasure. I was getting so close to orgasmic bliss.

"Mmm. Ah."

The throaty whimper rolled up and softly spilled out into the early morning light penetrating through the window blinds. We were lying naked and buried deeply within the warmth of the covers. Jack's body was spooned tightly into the curvature of my butt as his left arm snaked its way under my arm and beneath my body. The crook of his elbow cradled my left breast as his hand cupped my right tit, gently rolling my nipple between his forefinger and thumb. My breathing was growing ragged as I lie in deep slumber. My core body temperature rose, forming a fine, slick sheen of perspiration. With it, formed a lustful wantonness radiating from my mons to the turgid tips of my breasts. My body's response was to thrust back against his hard cock.

"Fuck me, with that hard horn, mother fucker!" I hissed between clenched teeth. I needed to come; to come right now!

That's when my dream began to crumble as I felt Jack's hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake until consciousness pushed the dream from my mind. I moaned with the morning's groggy awareness that dawn was breaking. The unicorn pulled out of my cunt, fading into the misty morning fog, snorting as it galloped away. It abandoned my need to come. My heart whimpered then cried out for it to return.

What I recalled of last night's romp was a gentle fucking -- like those days when I was pregnant with James. It was nothing like the wild unicorn's horn poking its way into my cunt. As Jack's hand finally shook me awake, I half expected his dick to be at my backdoor, prodding for entry just like the last six days; but it wasn't.

"Honey, babe! That's sure some dream, sugar! And I'll try to give you my horn, tonight," he chuckled.

Now, more awake than not, I heard his urgent whisper and rolled my naked body against him. I found him dressed. The feel of his flannel shirt between us brought me out of my sleepy fog and I sat up with one breast covered. The other exposed nipple stiffened under my perspiring body's chilling by the cool air outside the blankets. I stared at him as he rose up off his elbow and sat up.

"Sugar, security called," he stated quietly. "There's been a problem at work. Damn heat went out last night. The pipes froze. There's water everywhere," he babbled as he pulled on his socks. Then added, "Got to get there, honey. Tell Jimmy I'll take a rain check on the trail riding today."

He stopped talking, turning back to see if I was listening. I watched a shameless smile widen across his scruffy morning look as he eyed my exposed, naked breast. Then he chuckled, "Save that for when I get back! That must have been some dream you were having! You're soaked and what was that fuck me mother fucker with your horn stuff?" I could see the shit eating grin on his face as he plucked at my nipple.

With that, he bounded up off the bed. I heard the mudroom door open and close and then the rumble of the garage door opening. Afterward, quietness returned. Jack missed breakfast. I felt sorry for that, knowing he would be grabbing coffee with a biscuit and sausage at some drive through window on the way to work. But he had pressing, urgent matters calling for his immediate attention.

'Sorry, Jack. Morning sex and breakfast - to be rescheduled,'

I thought and breathed a long sigh. As an afterthought, I felt thankful for this bittersweet respite in his hypersexuality. At least for a while his focus was not going to be on that damn tattoo Teresa Ann had sold me on getting --

'I'm yours! Insert Here!'

My rectum was spared this morning and it would get more rest, today. With both Jack and my son Jimmy taking ample runs at it for numerous hours a day for the past six days, any reprieve was a godsend.

My pussy too, as another afterthought. I realized it just got spared as well this morning due to the water break. The last five weeks, after getting that damn tattoo, had become Jack's ritual of an early morning run into my vagina, followed with plundering my ass all because of Teresa Ann's damned suggestion.

My head slumped back onto the pillow. I closed my sleepy eyes once more. Thoughts of a unicorn's horn thrust up my cunt flowed into my mind triggering an involuntary clutching of my thighs and buttocks as that horn rasped against my g-spot. Instantly, my eyes snapped open. Shit! It just dawned on me, now Jimmy and I would be alone for the day!

That sudden realization jarred me wide awake. If I stayed in bed, James would be up soon expecting to be headed out to the snowmobile trails again. Finding his Dad gone, I knew meant he would be coming to my bed for an early morning treatment of his raging morning wood. It has been two days since Teresa Ann had admonished him about fucking me. I knew the newness of sex and his eagerness to try every conceivable position wouldn't hold out today. My remaining in bed and James finding himself alone with me, would be a temptation far beyond his control.

I sprang out of bed and got dressed. Dressed, I figured gave me a motherly presentation and would be a less tempting target for James to coerce than if he found me sprawled out in bed. I wouldn't stand a chance; in bed I was just too vulnerable - two minutes tops and he would be in one hole or another -- enjoying it without a thought to how I felt about it. It was, after all, something I had initiated to try and get him out of that damn shy, awkward teenage shell he was living in. So why would he feel it wasn't an entitlement at this point?

'Hey, mom! Can we fill the tub and do it underwater? Wonder what that feels like -- like in the 'Blue Lagoon' movie, you know?'

Was one of his last quests that didn't get answered. We had run out of time before Jack came home that day. I could just imagine that with all day ahead of us, he would eventually recall that and jump into it again -- literally.

Why the hell had I let Teresa Anne talk me into that and how the fuck was I going to get out of this?'

I thought as I started coffee and began my automatic routine of preparing breakfast.

'Shit, I have to call Teresa Anne!

I found my internal voice rambling in the back of my mind as I poured my first cup of java and slouched into my chair at the table waiting for the bacon to fry. Meanwhile, my eyes gravitated to the phone charging stations.

"Siri, call Teresa Anne," I directed as I swallowed my first come-alive-taste of morning coffee. Its warmth and smooth taste flowed down my throat much like James' cum and began turning me human again; the coffee, I mean.

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Noting the caller ID, I answered, "Good morning, Mrs. Troutman." I had to force my tone to take on my unflappable southern, syrupy voice. It was a Sunday. It was early. It was one of my new guilt laden problem mothers calling. And it was not the time to let my cat claws come out for interrupting a languid morning walk among the lilies as Doctor Fukhert's long curled up tongue roamed up and down my dew ladened mons.

"Sorry for waking you on Sunday, Teresa Anne," she replied. Her voice sounded agitated. I picked up on that quickly and placing my hand on my Pet's head motioned for her to stop pleasuring me.

"I wasn't sleeping Mrs. Troutman. Remember, I said to call me anytime you were concerned. So, are you, Mrs. Troutman, concerned?" I spoke slowly adding as much calmness to my inflection as I could and hit the speaker button for Doctor Fukhert to hear the conversation.

"Jack and James were supposed to go snowmobiling today, but Jack got called by security. Our building lost heat and the pipes froze and burst all over the plant so he had to go to work."

"Did he take James with him?"

"No. I guess he figured there wouldn't be much for James to do there, so Jack went in alone. Teresa Anne, I'm going to be here all day with James ..."

I heard her voice raise an octave and detected a tremble in it as she trailed off at the end. The angst in her voice was clearly evident. She had opened Pandora's box and let James' sexual libido free. Now, she was regretting it. However, that was going to be okay. I anticipated that scenario anyway. I needed that liberation between mother and son in order to gather data for my research thesis on

Mother and Son Incest Case Studies

. There would be more mothers, I suspected, calling me like Mrs. Troutman before the studies were published. This would be a good, first case practice session.

"Is James behaving?" I crooned nonchalantly.

"He's asleep still. Jack didn't wake him. So he doesn't know about the pipes, yet. Or that ..." Her voice trailed off again as she couldn't bring herself to repeat the idea of the two of them being alone again for the entire day.

As I listened to her response, I realized that James hadn't been fucked for two days now, except perhaps by the pocket pussy I sent him for 'emergency treatment' instances. And certainly two days without real sex as a brand new sexually active son would have him eager for more motherly satisfaction. The closest source for that was all alone with him, today. Undoubtedly he would be pressing his mother for his orgasmic releases all day long to make up for the past two days - at least until his father returned tonight. I really saw no harm in that at this point. He needs it; she initiated it; she should remedy it. That's my take on the situation. Although there was an easy, alternative solution given my perspective at a distance across the street.

"Mrs. Troutman, you know this is so new for him, and after two days without your affection, he may have a relapse in his confidence as he emerges out of his shell. His confidence might collapse, you know? You set out to pry him out of that shyness and into intercourse with young women. That was your goal, right, Mrs. Troutman? You said that you would help out. You told me you have some thoughts of your own about your son as well. Are you going to let your son down in his moment of need?" I asked, layering on a sense of guilt for her to bear.

I watched Dr. Fukhert's grin spread across her face as I played with Mrs. Troutman's sense of responsibility and her desperate need for her son to mature and take on adult-like responsibilities. I could tell the doctor was enjoying this melodrama playing out across the street as I baited James' mother. My Pet was a bit of a sadist in that sense. I guess I am also. Freud would probably have said it had something to do with my father figure, as if somehow I had a connection with that sorry bastard in my life.

"Teresa Anne, what should I do?" came her plaintive whine.

I grinned at that. She was so malleable and now was accepting her responsibility, so I gave her an out; sort of. But she still had to pay the piper.

'You reap what you sow,'

I've heard it said.

I paused for a few seconds for dramatic effect, before answering her question, "Slow sensual fellatio over breakfast -- without conversation. Just slip under the table while he is eating and take care of him." Then slowly I added, "Tell him to come over to my place right after that, Mrs. Troutman, and I'll keep him here for the rest of the day. Can you handle that? Oh, and Mrs. Troutman tell him to bring his chemistry book to study for that test, tomorrow!"

"Yes. Yes! I can handle that, thank you Teresa Anne," came a voiced reply lifted and buoyed up with a sense of renewed confidence.

I hung up as my face spawned the 'cat that ate the canary look.'

The look on my Pet's face was so mischievous! Her lips pressed against my mons and raspberried themselves gently into the moist folds of my puss until they made contact with my clit. My eyes shut involuntarily as her tongue began retracing, probing its pathway inside again. Slowly my labored breathing rekindled to the levels of smoldering ambers I was enjoying before Mrs. Troutman called.

"So fucking wonderful!" I managed to moan out the words as my thighs clinched around her ears in response to that magical tongue.

The good doctor's fingers probed for my G-spot and added to the glowing ambers until they flamed up inside of me. My head snapped back as I gasped releasing a cry of rapture as it made its way up my throat. It was raw and visceral in response to my body's explosive release of cum squirting forth to splash over her face. I collapsed and smiled, well pleased as jolting tremors rippled across my stomach muscles. I came, accelerated by the victory over Mrs. Troutman no doubt. I felt the joy my control over her gave me and certainly the wonderful cunnilingus of an expert between my legs helped out a lot as well.

It was a good, fucking morning.

"You haven't had a chance to meet James," I dreamily breathed the words over the doctor's curly auburn hair as she rested her face in the crevasse formed by my thighs. My body was trying desperately to recover from its release. Glancing down, I observed her naked form looking so much like John Innes painting entitled

'Female Figure Reclining'

tucked so delightfully between my splayed limbs.

"No, Mistress, but I'm looking forward to playing with a newbie again," she sighed. "Are we going to test out the recording equipment today then, instead of Monday, Mistress Teresa Ann?" Dr. Fukhert mumbled between kisses to my inner lips.

"Sounds like a plan, my Pet! Better fire up the lab for a full day's videography session. By the time he leaves this afternoon, his mother won't have to worry about his cock for the rest of the day!" I laughed at how good she must be feeling about that. The thought of wringing every sort of pleasure out of James had triggered that response. The good doctor enjoyed it as well. I could tell. Her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Have you ever hypnotized anyone to study if it effects memory retention?" I asked between the jolts of muscle spasms her tongue wrung from my core as she edged my body toward a second rush to my sexual release.

"It can help, but it's not like in the movies kind of success. But you could probably get more success with the 'carrot and stick' approach!" she breathed the words into my puss in response to my question.

"Carrot and stick?" I could barely breathe the words out as her fingers hit a new nerve ending. i was feeling the upper level surges of pleasure returning as the current from my nipples being tweaked ran down into my fiery cunty.

"Well, you could turn it into a version of the ABC game," she mused. "For every periodic table symbol he gets right, you could give him a couple of tongue licks toward orgasm," the good doctor suggested as she probed my inner canal with her long tongue.

"Nice!" I groaned.

"The game idea is good too, my Pet!" I added, short on air.

"Think you could handle James during the game while I film?" I managed to squeeze out the words, feeling the sensations getting too intense to continue the conversation as her fingers pinched my nipples so relentlessly.

A few more strokes and another intense orgasm rolled up my toes, stiffened my thighs, and slammed my head back into the pillows. "Fuck! You're so good at that, sugar!" I cried out in response and dropped my raised ass back down on the bed.

"Thank you, Mistress Teresa Anne. It's my pleasure to serve!" she huffed.

Lying sprawled out, I watched her breasts rising and heaving spurred on by her own libido working her body to a fevered pitch. Her own unfulfilled need was evident as her fingers crept toward her cunt. I caught the wanton look on her face out of my half-closed eyes as she searched my face for approval. Her fingers were fighting the temptation to play with her clit while watching my body melt into resolution. I thought to myself, as I expelled the depleted breath from my lungs as my body spasmed from orgasm,

'You deserve to cum, too my Pet, for that one!'

But answered instead ...

"You don't have permission! Stop fingering yourself, you selfish Pet!" I scolded her in mock seriousness.

"Mistress, I'm so sorry! I should have asked permission, ..." she started to stammer so apologetically.

But in mid-sentence, I lunged upward grasping her hand pulling it away from her cunt. Then, lunging forward, I pushed the good doctor onto her back. Caught off guard, she squealed with delight as I trailed layers of kisses around her turgid, rosy flushed nipples down to her cunt and ate its delicious nectar in gratitude for my own pleasuring moments before. Scarcely a brief moment of lapping up and down her labia passed until her body found an undulating rhythm that matched my tongue movements. She began thrusting more firmly against my face, eager for more. Then just as quickly the storm that had been growing inside her caused her to stiffened so delightfully. She planted her viscously soaked cunty against my face, and drove herself to orgasm; coming like a boat tossed on a wild sea. I watched its rippling waves coursing through her loins as she collapsed, eyes shut so dead to the world.

'It was my pleasure to serve, too, my Pet!

I thought as a grin wrangled its way across my face from having returned the favor! Her eyes remained locked as she felt the intensity of her orgasm ripple throughout her core. The soft smile than crossed her lips told me it was a true out of body experience!

"Thank you, Mistress Teresa Anne. That was wonderful! I'm not sure I can even get out of bed now!" she whispered barely able to shuttle the words out into the morning sunshine beaming through our window.

"Pet, you have to!" I grinned, "We have an eighteen-year-old newbie coming for some science lessons in a few minutes. So get your ass into the shower and get cracking while I power on the recording equipment. Remember something low cut, and easy to get out of -- he's not really very good at undressing -- at least he wasn't on that first day and I was almost naked then!"