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My affair with my daughter's white boyfriend

 




Comments very much appreciated! write to aceinthe_hole@hotmail.com
My affair with my daughter's white boyfriend; [3,482 words]

Firstly, I want to say that I'm not very happy with the title I've
given to my story. It seems a shame to give away most of the story in the title, but otherwise, how would people know if they would be
interested in reading it?

I've always had great relationship with my daughter; she's my
confidant and my best friend. She always was, since she could talk.

My husband died tragically several years ago. This brought Sally
and I even closer together, and I thanked God for the strength we
gave each other.

Sally was only 14 when her father died, so I was alone to guide her
through her adolescence.

Sally is beautiful and personable, and has always been a popular
girl. It could have been difficult for her as colored girl growing
up in a mainly white middle-class neighborhood like ours, but thanks
to her personality and good looks, she's never had a problem finding
friends.

She was my confidant and best friend; we talked about love and sex
more as friends than as mother and daughter. Sally lost her
virginity at 16, and wasted no time telling me about it. Of course,
as her mother, I couldn't help but be upset. But as her friend, I
could only be happy for her. She was positively glowing with the
excitement and fulfillment of it. I was truly glad that her first
experience had been so positive, Lord knows mine wasn't.

A year later she was still seeing the boy. His name was Kenny.

And I was alone, not having had a man since before my husband had
fallen ill.

"Mom, isn't time you found a boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend". What kind term. I had just turned 40 years old. I
might find a lover, but it was unlikely to be someone who could be
referred to as a "boy".

"I really don't feel ready yet for a new relationship, Sally." I
told her.

"Okay, but at least you could find a lover. You're good looking
woman, mom. I bet there's lots of guys who would be interested in
you."

She was right. By good fortune, I've kept my good looks. It really
is just luck. I'm careful to eat healthily, but I've never been into
any kind of exercise or sport trip. Nonetheless, I still have a
fine, trim figure, and a smooth, even complexion. There is no gray
yet in my hair, and it's still thick, black, and shiny. All right,
so I go to the beauty parlor once a week, but the color is natural.

"And I wouldn't mind, Sally. But I just don't want to devote the
time that it would take. There are couple of guys down at the
office who've been pestering me for a date, but I'm not really
interested in either of them."

"Come on, out with it, mom. What are they like?"

"In their 50s."

"Okay. Never mind them. There must be other guys giving you the
look."

"Well, yes, there are sometimes. But the whole dating thing really
turns me off. I haven't dated for 20 years, I don't remember how."

"I don't think there's anything to know, mom. The guy asks you out,
you say 'yes', and he takes you to a movie and buys you dinner. If
the dinner was good, you let him come in when he brings you home.
If he's cute, you let him spend the night. And in the morning I'll
make you both a nice breakfast!"

We both had a good laugh.

"That's really sweet of you, Sally. But I just don't feel like
getting into it, all the bullshit; 'What do you do?, What's your
sign?, What's your gross annual income?'".

When she said to me; "How about a night with Kenny? I bet you
wouldn't mind that!", I assumed she was joking.

"Now a nice young hunk like Kenny would go down just fine with me.
You can perform the dating rituals, and then send him to my room for
sex!"

"Oh mom, he's so sweet! I think you'll just love him!"

"You're not serious."

"Sure! What's wrong with it? You're always so good to me, mom.
You buy me things, you cook for me. I'd love to be able to do
something for you for a change."

"I really don't think it would be healthy, Sally. Kenny is your
boyfriend, and I do think he's a sweetie. But I don't want anything
coming between us, especially not a boy."

"Shit, mom. It's not like I'm going to marry him or something.
Actually, I don't think our relationship is going to last much
longer anyway."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. It's starting to get old. As you always told me,
these things come and go, especially at my age. So, tell me why you
shouldn't sleep with Kenny."

"He's about 23 years younger than me."

"So? You're a beauty, and he's a hunk. I'm not suggesting you
settle down with the guy, just have some fun. You need it, you
deserve it. You've been working too much lately, and you need a
break. Some relaxation."

If this was Sally at 17 years old, imagine what she was going to be
like by the time she was my age?

"I'm sure Kenny wouldn't be interested in an old lady like me."

"Okay, mom. I'll make a bet with you. If Kenny is "interested", as
you put it, he spends the night with you. If he's not, then he
doesn't!"

"Fine. And how do we discern if he's interested?"

"Nothing could be easier. I'll ask him."

Well, she'd worked me into a corner. Perhaps I allowed myself to be
worked, I don't know.

Kenny often spent the night at our place, with Sally. I know some
people think that I'm way too liberal, but the fact is that they're
going to do it. girls and boys do, no matter what their parents say
or think. I like to know that Sally was safe and home, and if she
was getting laid, let it be in her own bed. Comfortable, safe, and
warm.

I like Kenny; as I said, he's a sweetie. And as Sally said, he's a
hunk. He was always so respectful to me;

"Let me get that for you Mrs. Johnson." Or; "I'll do the dishes
tonight, Mrs. Johnson. Thanks for the great meal!"

Relationships don't seem to last very long these days, and I knew it
was incredibly unlikely that my daughter's relationship should be
any different, but somehow I'd always imagined Kenny as a lovely
son-in-law.

I tried to put it out of my mind, a sexual encounter with young lovely Kenny. But he came over the next day after school.

"Hi, Mrs. Johnson! Is Sally upstairs?"

Oh he was lovely. Young, fresh, enthusiastic, energetic. As I
looked into his face I couldn't help but think of taking him into my
arms, kissing his young lips, tasting his young mouth. His clear
blue eyes radiated health.

"Yes, Kenny. Go on up." I told him.

As I busied myself in the kitchen, I found myself wondering what his
penis was like, if the skin of his trim round but was as white and
smooth as his face.

I called the kids down for dinner after couple of hours.

As we ate, I thought Kenny was looking at me differently. I had the
idea that he was sizing me up whenever I was looking in another
direction. Could Sally have actually asked him? Never, I thought.
How could a girl possibly ask her boyfriend if he was interested in
her mother sexually? Never.

"Mom," Sally said after dinner, "I'm going to spend the night over
Joanne's place. I've already phoned her, and it's cool."

I stared at her. No. She didn't. She was poker faced. I looked at
Kenny. He was starting to blush.

"I'll, um, I'll do the dishes!" And without meeting my eyes, he
gathered up the plates and headed for the kitchen.

"Sally! You didn't actually ask him?"

She pretended to be busy with something, and wouldn't meet my eyes
either.

"I sure did, mom. And guess what he said?"

She looked up at me, and the grin on her face was so wide, that I
couldn't help but laugh. This was so ludicrous, so ridiculous. She
wasn't serious.

She laughed as well, but she was completely serious.

She was out the door within seconds. She had known me her whole
life, she knew me perfectly. She gave me no opportunity to object.

I'm going to have to admit that if I really hadn't wanted Kenny, I
would've found a way to object. But I didn't find a way, did I?

I went into the kitchen. Kenny was drying.

"Kenny."

He turned, and met my eyes with his at last. This was awkward.
Awkward is not a strong enough word for the situation.

He didn't seem to have anything to say; what could he say to a woman
more than twice his age, whom he was supposed to now seduce?

"Kenny, this is a little strange. I really like you, I think you're
fine young man. I don't know what Sally said to you exactly, but,
um, maybe it would be better if you just went home."

I was trying to judge his emotions; it was difficult. Something
between relief and disappointment. I'd expected him to bolt. But I
had underestimated the young fellow, he stood his ground.

"If that's what you want, Mrs. Johnson."

I hesitated. I wasn't sure what I wanted. Of course I was
conflicted, my sense of moral decency was totally clashing with my
animal desire. My carnal desire to have him, lie with him....

I suddenly realized that I hadn't replied. That I was simply
staring at him, staring at him with lust in my heart, with fire
between my legs.

"I'm not sure what I want, Kenny. What about you? Do you really
want. want to be with me? Did Sally pressure you somehow?"

"You're a very beautiful woman, Mrs. Johnson. The idea of spending
the night with you.. It excites me."

He was blushing beet red, but he kept eye contact with me. What
would I regret more, I thought to myself; taking advantage, or
letting this opportunity slip by?

He met me halfway across the kitchen floor. Our arms opened, closed
around each other, pull each other close. I was wearing high heels,
I usually did. It made me slightly taller than him. His hands
caressed the skin of my back through the thin blouse I was wearing,
his young pink lips found mine, rational thought abandoned me.

"You're so beautiful, so sexy." He said to me between kisses,
running one hand gently, respectively, over my behind, testing the
firmness of my flesh through my skirt.

"Kenny, this is wrong. We shouldn't."

But we wanted to. We both wanted to very much. Finally, I
surrendered to my base desire. I took his hand in mine, and led him
up the stairs to my bedroom.

My breasts are still full, although they do hang some. My ass isn't
what it was. I still look good, good for a 40-year-old woman.
Kenny's lover was my seventeen-year-old daughter. I was afraid of
his reaction when he would see my old body naked for the first time.

He removed his trousers, and I immediately knew that everything was
well. His cock was beautiful, pink, stiff. Fully erect, fully
erect just looking at me. It made me incredibly happy, that I'd
inspired his young desire. His lust for me was perverse, I knew
that. But I didn't care, his lust was real, he was real. His young body was very real.

I had loved my husband very much, bless his soul. But he had had a
weak libido. It had taken a lot to excite him, and then to keep him
excited.

The contrast with young Kenny couldn't be greater.

Of course I had fantasized, even before Sally had ever brought it
up, I'd fantasized of Kenny's young body. He was the only male in
my vicinity most of the time, how could I help it? The fantasies
had been harmless. This wasn't. Or perhaps it was, I was confused.

His hands on my body were delicious, his lips delectable. His body
was so white against mine. I had only ever been with a few men, and
I had never been with a white man before. I noticed that I was
thinking of Kenny as "a man".

I put my hand on his penis, it was warm, soft on the outside and
hard on the inside.

When my husband was alive, I used to shave myself all the way up. I
regretted now that I had not done that for quite a while. I shaved
my legs regularly, I had to look good for my job, but my pubes were
long and curly. Kenny went down on me regardless, and just the
wickedness of it was nearly enough to bring me to climax. But his
young tongue so enthusiastically working to please me, his clear
blue eyes staring up at me, his pale hands roaming over my dark
body.

I couldn't stop myself, I clutched his blond hair and cried as I
came, came for the first time in years.

I had always heard that white men were inadequate lovers with
inadequate cocks. I can't say I've taken a very large sample, but
all I can say girls, is give them a try.

He entered me, I lay on my back with my knees up, and he crawled
between my legs and entered me. Oh, it was good. Very good. I'd
forgotten how good.

"I can't hold it." He said in my ear.

"Don't hold it, Kenny. You can come, come." I whispered back,
clutching his beautiful round white ass in my hands. I felt the
spasm move through his body, his young muscles contracting,
relaxing, contracting again. He clutched me, squeezed my older body
while he blessed me with his sticky white complement.

I came again, came with him.

We relaxed afterwards, cuddling together, kissing, caressing.

I slept better than I had for years. I awoke, thinking it had all
been a dream. Then I heard gentle snores of my child lover, sleeping
peacefully next to me in my bed.

His broad pale back was uncovered. He was on the high school
football team; he had an excellent build. I wondered what he would
be feeling as he woke, finding himself in bed with woman more than
twice his age, his girlfriend's mother.

I reached over, and gently touched his ivory skin. I ran my fingers
gently across his shoulder blades, down the indentation of his
spine. He was so lovely, I wanted to eat him.

I had been worried that I would feel disgusted with myself. I
realized now that I wasn't quite that prudish. I felt happy, I had
no regrets. Kenny could go back with Sally, they could get married,
or they could split up, whatever. The sex we had shared, the joy he
had given me. That was good. That was mine.

He was awake. He hadn't moved, but I knew that he was awake. I
continued to caress him. I started to massage him, his wonderful
physique pliant in my hands.

I lowered the quilt, uncovering his wonderful round ivory ass. So
white under my brown hands, so firm, young and luscious.

I had only meant to be affectionate, but I couldn't resist the
allure of him. I slid my hand under, to his balls. He lifted his
hips. I slid my arm further, to his beautiful young sex. He was
hard, hard as iron.

He rolled over, and we were in each other's arms once more,
grappling, holding, consuming each other. It filled me with joy
that he should want me again. Our combined lust was like fire.

He fucked me simply and hard, and once more we shared our orgasms in
my once lonely bed.

We showered together; so sweet, so romantic. Was romance possible
between a 40-year-old woman and seventeen-year-old boy? After that
night, anything was possible.

We soaped each other, and then we kissed for a while, our warm soapy
bodies sliding over each other.

It was unbelievable to me, but he was hard again. I had forgotten
what young men could do. Or perhaps I had never even known.

We dried off, and still naked, I led him back to the bed.

Now was the time for variations; now I wanted to show him things,
things I had done with my husband, for my husband, to arouse him.

Kenny of course, didn't need arousing. But that didn't mean he
wouldn't enjoy this.

I sucked his young cock for the first time, I cradled his lovely
balls in my palm.

I pressed my finger against his anus, I pushed it a short way
inside.

I pushed him onto his side, he was passive and compliant. I rimmed
him, licking his pink young hole while I pulled on his penis with my
hand.

I pushed him once more onto his back, and climbed onto his lovely
pole, and pinched his nipples while I rocked back and forth,
bringing myself to the edge.

But this wasn't for myself, this was for him, my young Adonis.

I took myself from my pleasure, and engulfed him with my mouth once
more.

He moaned with ecstasy, but I pulled away when I felt his orgasm was
approaching, blowing on him gently to cool his fire.

I worked over his young body for at least half an hour, keeping him
always on the edge.

Then I told him, my face an inch from his, our breaths
intermingling; "I'm going to suck you now until you come. I want
you to come in my mouth, I want you to come hard. Will you do that
for me?"

"Yes." He said, and I kissed him, pushing my tongue deep into his
mouth, our naked bodies knotted together.

It was amazing that it was possible for him to have such a powerful
orgasm, considering how he'd performed in the previous 12 hours. I
swallowed it down joyfully, and we lay together cuddling for a few
minutes before I rose to make breakfast.

Sally came in as we were eating. She looked from one of us to the
other, and started to laugh.

"Well, I don't have to ask how things went!"

"Is it that obvious?" I asked her.

"Uh-huh." She replied.

People noticed at work, too.

"Why Alice, you're looking positively radiant today!" My boss told
me.

"Say, Alice. Have you done something with your hair?" Said one of
my colleagues.

"Alice! Did you meet someone?" asked my secretary.

I didn't think it likely that Kenny would want to be my lover again,
but I knew now that I did need loving. I was ready to start living
again, even if it meant having to grind through all those dating
rituals that I'd been complaining to Sally about.

But Kenny did want to be my lover; in fact, he started spending
almost every night at our house. Sally and I shared him.

I was amazed, I still am, and how smoothly it went. I would have
expected us to get jealous of each other, but somehow we didn't.
Perhaps it was the love that Sally and I share. She truly didn't
resent me enjoying myself with Kenny, and I definitely didn't resent
her, either.

I suppose everyone will think it's obscene, mother and daughter sharing a man. All I can say is it felt right. Well, it felt good
anyway.

Sally won a scholarship to Stanford, and she's gone off to school
now. Kenny is at a local university, and has moved in with me.

We tell everyone that he's just renting a room from me. I don't
know if everyone believes that!

I don't know what will happen now. I wonder if Sally will meet a new
boy at Stanford, and what will happen when she comes back for the
summer.

What I do know is that I haven't felt this good for at least 10
years. I know this can't last, Kenny will have to move on soon.
And I'm a little worried about the way I keep fantasizing of having
his baby.

I'm afraid that perhaps I'm in love, and it must inevitably end in
tragedy.

Meanwhile, I worship him. I feed him, keep him. I buy sexy
negligees, I shave my pussy, I suck his cock for hours, I rim him. I
even sit with him while he watches football on TV. Now that's love!

And he's good to me, he never makes me feel old. He still gets
turned on by me, he still screws me silly.

What can I do?

Ace 2000

The rest of my stories are at;

http://www.asstr.org/~aceinthe_hole//

It is a free, absolutely non-commercial site. But if you like my
stories, and would like to tell me so, then I would be glad that
I've put in the time to share it with you all.

Email; aceinthe_hole@hotmail.com

Thanks.



 

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