Love Seats

That happened not just once but fully six times. Six times I came. Total time was actually only a minute for the actual transfer from my reservoir to her fertile womb. But man, those were sixty of the most heavenly seconds in history.

Our little 'passion play' drew the inevitable reaction. Mom's 'old man' flew into a rage about what a sick mother she was. Mind you, she and I were bare-butt naked as he yelled, her beaver muff still dripping a frothy crème pie from the action.

I let him have his say, but when he slapped mom for emphasis, I just had to give him a 'love tap'. I guess I forgot my own strength. Moving those 50 pound sacks of cement, I was just a tad stronger than him...say tenfold. At least that made him quiet down, once he came to, three hours later.

Well, everything worked out in the end, if unexpectedly. Mom filed for a divorce the next Monday. The resolution facilitator (for the courts) ended up giving mom control of the businesses. We just had to pay him for his half, LESS the part he squandered on gambling. So, mom shed the 'old man' for $10,000, ending up with our house and the businesses worth $1million.

The promo film for the furniture was picked up by the manufacturer, who paid some serious money for the film and the right to use it nationally. They even wanted the footage that he had taken of the final session. Mom's 'old man' had said 'cut' but hadn't turned off the camera. We didn't sell THAT footage; it was too hot for public airplay. It did make a nice keepsake DVD for us.

At the end of the day, we sold our home and mom's businesses for a pretty penny and moved to a state some 1,000 miles away. Using mom's restored maiden name per the divorce decree, we settled into a small farm community.

After an hour of hair coloring, a slightly grey at the temple man and his youthful wife now lived on a big farm expanse. With mom wearing a beautiful white gown, we snuck over to the county court, hoping that we could quietly get hitched.

At the county court house, mom got a brilliant idea. She faked having a baby bump under that wedding gown. The clerk joked with us, sensing that we were nervous about making the kid 'legal', not that we were mother and son. With a snap, click of his stamp, he notarized the marriage certificate and it was all legal. In a new home, with a new wife, and a baby on the way, we were in blue heaven.

YEARS LATER:

Just out of sentimentality, we wanted to see the 'old haunts'. So, we packed up the cross-over (ok, it was a mini-van) with our six kids and drove back to the old hometown. We had long ago sold the business and our old house.

Curious, we drove to the apartment that mom's old man had moved into: one of those 55 and over places. To our surprise, we found him sitting on the curb. It seems he still had the gambling bug and hadn't paid his rent. All of his stuff had been moved outside, including his small LCD TV, which now had a broken screen. It was amazingly like what I had experienced.

It was horribly cruel (perhaps), but when we saw him looking our way, we flashed him our big gold wedding bands, then kissed passionately. Mom then reached around her seat, undoing the youngest from the car seat. She glared at him as we both held up the newborn. Then she opened one side of her nursing bra. She momentarily held the baby to the side, allowing me to bend over and take a deep draught of her warm, sweet mother's milk. I sat up, knowing it would have its usual effect on me (I got stiff as iron.) Mom once again proudly held up the newborn as the symbol of our new union.

Then she carefully stuck her pinky into the baby's little mouth and placed the beautiful nipple in. The newborn knew nothing of our planet EXCEPT that if he smashed with his tongue and tugged with his lips, he'd be rewarded with a warm mouthful of velvety smooth breastmilk. As we headed to the turnpike, never to return, our newest drank to his heart's content. He drove me mad as I heard the 'zit zit' as he happily suckled that vanilla goodness.

Hours later, we decided we'd drive home nonstop. We pulled over and I made like the newborn. Drinking my fill, I was re-energized. Mom was curled up on the front seat. I caressed the baby soft soles of her gorgeous feet and kissed her before hitting the highway again. Mom gave all the toddlers formulae before she nodded off. Re-charged and inspired, I easily made it home in one day.

When we got home, I carefully and quietly carried all of the sleeping babies into the house. It was an endless profusion our little baby boom had created. After putting all six to bed, I carried my gorgeous mother, now wife, into the ranch house. She was so delighted that we had gotten home with nothing more taxing than a long nap that she offered to do anything I wanted. I kissed her tender lips, my tongue lapping at her teeth.

She said she was too tired and besides, we had no protection, we had agreed to stop at six children, and she was fertile at the moment--REAL fertile. Disappointed and frustrated, I plopped myself down on the bed. To my rescue, my beautiful mother sat up, bent over, and stuck an erect nipple into my hungry mouth.

I suckled like our newborn, noisily and enthusiastically. Mom knew what effect that had. Sure enough, she now rolled over and took my enormous baby-maker into her skilled hands. I ended up murmuring 'mom' and 'oh God!' before I vented my passion into mom's warm and welcoming mouth.

When we were finished mom got up quietly. I was confused; I had not heard her dump anything out nor swallow. Sure enough, she bent over me and proceeded to let it all drool out at once into an empty teacup. The volume that ran down her chin and cheeks was as if someone had poured a quart jar of thick off-white liquid on her beautiful face. I was so proud. She lovingly caught all of it in that cup and swallowed every drop.

The next night we were watching TCM when they played the old movie: "Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow" with the incredibly beautiful Sophia Loren. In the first part, voluptuous Sophia played a fertile welfare mom whose flat was crowded with cribs and cots filled with her offspring.

In spite of that, she offered herself to her husband, wanting even more babies. That was so sexy I wanted to knock up my lovely wife/mother one more time. She said that it would have to be something real special to make us reproduce one last time.

A month later we got a postcard asking us for a contribution to the men's mission back in our old hometown. Mom told me that must mean that he was living at the mission...how else would they know we were out here? She related some terrible things he had done to her that she'd never told me about. I told mom about his taunts at me that I'd never have a wife and child of my own as well as the occasional physical 'discipline' he meted out.

That was enough for mom to act: she wrote a letter to him at that address. To guarantee he'd write back, she sent a family photo of our huge brood in front of the family home. She also included the long concealed fact that I indeed had been fathered by someone else! I said that was far too cruel, but when she asked me again, I said it was richly deserved and sweet. We sent it out.

About two weeks later, we got a letter back. However, it was on a letterhead from the Men's Mission and not from him. They asked me if we knew a certain person since we had written to him. Their formal letter disclosed that for reasons unknown, he had read something, thrown it into a huge dumpster, and then used a cheap 25 automatic he found on himself. Did we know this person?

We wrote them back that we'd written him by mistake, thinking he was related. That night all six kids were fast asleep. Mom took out our letter to him and the resulting letter. It was cold and heartless, but we clinked champagne flute glasses and drank to 'love, sex, and lots of babies'. We turned on the TIVO recording of that Sophia Loren film—the scene with all of those babies jammed into their bedroom.

I carefully placed my wife/mother in the center of our king-sized bed on a sea of pillows. Beneath all of those pillows were those two letters. I proceeded to mount mom.

Her hand lovingly guided me in. I plunged in all the way and then withdrew until only the absolute end of my cock was lightly brushing against her. With hard cock applied to sopping wet pussy, we once again turned into a well-tuned love machine/baby factory. For fifteen solid minutes, I plunged my babymaker all the way in and then removed it. As we did it, incredible pressure was building up in my testes.

It was wicked, but the thought that my tormentor had done himself in after realizing that I had won out over him was overwhelming. With visions of getting my beautiful mother's belly swollen with child one last time, I came with my usual atomic power and tsunami wave volume. Mom once again was at her peak of fertility and once again had a sperm-filled pussy. This last baby was intended to replace you know who from back home.

So ends the tale. The man who had hounded me as a youth, taunting me that I'd never live to have my own family was ironically informed that it was HE that had had no family. I on the other hand now had a huge brood of seven.

Another bit of irony was that we received a certified letter from a well-known insurance company who'd tracked us down. It seems that he had whole life paid up by the companies and now the $100,000 policy was paid to us. I guess he'd forgotten about that or he would've cashed it in for its equity.

With that last bit of good fortune, we hired a very nice older woman to take care of our brood. Now when we heard the bawling babies, it wasn't a call to work and more work. No, now it was just a siren song of the passion we had felt making that little baby boom of our own.

With our nanny in place, we could again spend weekends making love, wearing nothing but our birthday suits. With the nanny preparing formulae for the nursery, I prevailed upon mom to keep her wonderful milk for me and me alone. It was totally selfish, but everything from coffee to baked goods used mom's own 'private stock' milk to make them all the richer and sexier.

I even thought that precious white liquid made me stronger; when I hit a plateau in the weight room, I just slapped on another 100 lb. weight and drank a bottle of that white nectar. It made no sense, but I could lift that ridiculous weight right after guzzling that liquid gold.

For a guy who was fated to not have his own wife let alone his own family, I was pretty lucky. The best mom in the world was also the best wife and lover. Seven kids did not fill the Rose Bowl but it did overflow our mini-van and barely fit into the full-size van. My mom used that as an excuse for not having more.

One day we drove in the country and found a used orange and black school bus for sale at $500. I looked at mom and said: "Just think, that could hold TWENTY children!" I smiled and winked.

She thought I wanted to re-start the baby factory and could only say: "Uh oh!"