There is a creeping attempt to sanctify the truth in sexual literature in the name of social good. I see it here and in other adult literature boards. It is not the fault of the editors as they try to balance freedom of expression with staying off the censors hate system. Please do not confuse this discussion with the matter of child porn in videos or on line. Here I am talking about the loss of being able to accurately portray stories in words based on real life incidents or fantasies. This is not a promotion of child exploitation. Society would have you think that young people wait until they are of legal age before they pull down their pants and explore the fun parts of their bodies. In truth, the University of Michigan Health System found that children discover their genital parts by age 6 months for boys and 11 months for girls. In fact most children play with their genitals fairly regularly by age 5-6, both boys and girls. (University of Michigan Health Service, web address umich.ed/yourchild/topics/masturbation). Ultra sound evidence indicates boys at least may actually play with themselves in the womb. Playing Doctor and other childhood games are a normal part of development. They do not represent a perversion on the youngster’s part, just human sexual development. By the time society deems it proper for us to discuss consensual sex with minors (age 16 in most areas), 40% of kids have already had sex. I myself was X years old when the neighborhood slut, who was X+ …
A Hot Teen Prescription 2 – Cocktail
Let's just say Adrianna was very often running through my head ever since her first session. I had exhibited better self control and had been able to do more detailed sessions with her. I convinced her mother to let me do hour and a half sessions with Adrianna, that she needed extra "help." It gave me longer to stare at her, longer to try to get details of her escapades. Plus it left me a free half hour until my next patient. Every session lead to a masturbation session in my private washroom, and God knows it didn't take but two or three minutes. It was those fucking legs and that angelic face. I just couldn't help myself. I had tried over the last month, with our twice a week visits to get more details about the teacher or the encounter with her father's friend Ian, but she never got specific about him. She was willing to talk about the two guys from school she had been with but her stories were so un-detailed. She shied away from specifics in every way to the point I got very frustrated. It was selfish but I was tired about fantasizing about her and her teacher from the first visit we had, she had never been as detailed as that again, and I needed more masturbatory material. I also thought more details from those experiences, might get me some inspiration to get what they got, and what I so desperately wanted, to cum deep inside her teenage twat. After a month of no success I did have an idea. I brought her mother in and told her I wanted to try hypnosis and got her …
My Transition
My transition into male sex occurred a number of years ago after my first wife passed away following an extended illness. She had been unable to engage in sex for some time, and so I dealt with my physical needs the best I could, mostly through chronic, habitual masturbation. The months following her passing were very difficult for me emotionally, and I was having a hard time dealing with the grief, and the guilt. I had periodically struggled with bouts of guilt since high school, when I began to use masturbation to help deal with stress and insecurities. Back then, it was referred to as “abusing oneself”. I tried to stay busy and exercise to manage these urges, but when that did not work, masturbation (usually in conjunction with anal stimulation) became my “drug of choice”, as it were. I thought marriage would alleviate the need for this, and it did, for a while. But, compulsive, addictive behaviors are hard to break, and I found myself despairing over my lack of self-control. An even greater threat to my battered conscience was my growing desire for close physical intimacy with another male. Throughout my life, my traditional Southern upbringing and church teaching consistently taught me that such desires and behaviors are, at best, morally disordered, and at worst – well, you get the idea. Right or wrong, this was poured into my foundation from the very beginning. So, it should not have come as a surprise that this would be a source of emotional turmoil, especially …
The Life that is Dreamt of: Chapter 1
I have never been the type of person to express myself very much in the verbal way. Since elementary school I always knew in my head that I would do as best as I could academically and live the life I had always wanted to live since I was little, a big house, pretty wife, cool kids, and a wealthy, successful lifestyle. So I put my head down, achieved the grades I wanted to, participated in many championship sports teams, and enjoyed my life as the “popular” teenager so many kids long to be. So now, as I sit on my front porch in the Florida Keys, let me tell you the story of how I Giovanni Belettzo accomplished everything in my life I had dreamed of for so long, and everything in between. So I guess in my introduction I left out the fact that I’m a sex addict. Not in the way that you’re thinking however. I’m not one of those crazy fucks who are attracted to anything with a pulse. I am a very selective individual when it comes to what I will and will not shove my cock into repeatedly for a set amount of time until I shoot my load onto it. I guess to put it in a nutshell, I just enjoy having my cock inside a beautiful broad with a gorgeous face and a nice body a little bit more than not having my cock inside a beautiful broad with a gorgeous face and a nice body. To be completely honest, this literally all started in fifth grade, I can’t believe that was almost eight years ago. I received one of these weird snowboarding brand magazines for Christmas, and in the very back there …
Just Like That?
With a Mom that she could only remember from photographs it was no wonder that Melissa's Father was her world. No one who saw them could doubt they loved and cared about each other. He was good looking, smart, funny and most likely would have climbed high up the corporate ladder but for one thing. He had lost his wife to cancer and was dam sure he would not loose his last link to her through skewed priorities. Without a Mom, Melissa started sharing her most personal secrets with Dad almost as soon as she could talk. He seemed to have a knack for listening unlike what she saw with her friend's Fathers. Most nights after Melissa had finished her homework she changed into a nightie and watch TV with Dad. She'd sprawled on the floor while Dad sat in his easy chair. During the hour before bedtime, in a tradition that neither could remember starting, she would cuddle up on Dad's lap. She always want to start talking just as it became bedtime. Dad would turn off the TV and listen or reply as the conversation dictated. For Melissa this was her favourite time of the day, getting sl**py while feeling warm and loved. If their f****y included a Mom that habit would have changed when Melissa went through puberty. It did not and by the time she was f******n with a women's figure she would still sit on Daddy's lap. Just like any other teenage girl, boys dominated much of Melissa's idle thoughts. While sitting on Dad's lap, inhaling his manly scent with its hint of cologne, she felt the …