wrestlingclown
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2012
- Messages
- 198
- Points
- 0
Sloane is an inappropriate match for my son. I don't know where I went wrong raising him, but I thought I taught him better sense than to go gallivanting around with such a woman. I was horrified when my son first introduced her to me. She's a red head. Women with red hair are just not right for my son. Besides red hair is ugly. She has an enormous posterior and doesn't even try to tastefully hide it. She always wears tight jeans as if she's proud to show it off. I feel ashamed for my son, but he doesn't seem to mind and I fear he's attracted to women with big cabooses. Sloane wears sunglasses even inside, and I just don't trust people that I can't look directly in the eye.
I wanted to forbid my son from seeing her, but I've never had to directly order him to do anything. Instead, I gently suggest things, and he always has been such a good boy that he follows my advice. He agreed to go to the community college so he could live at home during his academic days. After he graduated he took the local job I suggested and agreed to live in the basement to save money. He's only 25 and he's not ready to be married or move out on his own. I planned to help him meet a wife when he turned 30. I would choose wisely for him--perhaps a plain petite career woman from a good family and well-to-do background would be right for him.
But now he's already having sex with that dreadful woman. He's much too young for sex. I'm sure that slutty Sloane pressured him into it. Ever since he met her, I stopped seeing the semen stains on his sheets when I do his laundry. I was ok with him masturbating because I know he needs some kind of release. But I shudder to think of him laying with that awful woman, and I fear he likes it because I know what his inappropriate preferences are. Sometimes he forgets to delete the search history on his computer, and I see the porn sites he visited when he used to masturbate in his basement bedroom. He looks at women with really large bosoms and butts. I was hoping he would outgrow these immature desires by the time he was 30 and it was time to match him with the correct woman.
I can't understand what drove him to this type of woman. It was tough raising him all these years without a father. His father was little more than a sperm donor. I was his main role model, and I'm nothing like the pushy domineering woman he's with now. Why is he so attracted to her and why does he refuse to heed my advice to break it off with her?
My concern over his inappropriate relationship turned to alarm when I secretly listened to a phone conversation between them. Sloane invited Mark to her apartment and promised to tie him down. At first I thought this would scare him away. That he would finally come to his senses and stop seeing her. I was appalled to see him getting ready to leave, seemingly with eagerness. I looked on helplessly as informed me he was spending the night with that awful slut.
I got sick to my stomach imagining the terrible things she could do to him. What if she mutilated him or whipped him or kept him tied down for so long he'd cry? I couldn't stand it any longer. I decided he needed me to rescue him. I simply would not permit my son to participate in some sordid bondage game. I looked up Sloane's address on the internet and drove over there in the dark of night. I was determined to put a stop to this unseemly affair.
Sloane lives in a seedy apartment complex on the other side of the railroad tracks. It stinks like a dumpster and was just as appalling as I imagined. I briskly walked past a bum in the parking lot, ready to kick him in the gonads, if he dared approach me. I found Sloane's apartment--#8B. I was about to knock on the door when I heard Sloane say in a loud teasing voice, "Coochie, coochie, coo."
This was followed by Mark's laughter.
"I'm going to tickle you," she said.
Mark laughed even harder.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle."
More giggling.
I realized I was too late and suddenly felt too embarrassed to knock on the door. She was tormenting my poor boy...humiliating him. How emasculating he must've felt to be tickled and unable to stop it. How long was she going to make him feel like that? I felt I needed to do something. I tried the door handle, thinking I could sneak inside and save Mark, if Sloane didn't stop tickling him within a reasonable amount of time. But the door was locked. I suddenly remembered something I saw once in Mark's search history. Something about topless women tickling tied down men. It occurred to me he might be enjoying this experience. I couldn't stand it.
"Are your balls ticklish?"
Mark didn't answer or at least I didn't hear him, but he roared with laughter.
"What's more ticklish? Your balls or underarms?
Mark kept laughing and I decided that was enough, but I still couldn't bring myself to knock on the door. Frantically, I ran around the back of the building. The bedroom light was on. I climbed on the air conditioning unit and peeked through a small space between the shades. Sloane, completely naked, was sitting on my nude son. She was running an electric toothbrush over his scrotum, while tickling his armpits with her other hand. Mark was laughing and squirming...and IT was erect. I was shocked! I almost rapped on the window but just didn't have the nerve. I turned around and slumped, my back sliding against the wooden wall. A splinter pierced my blouse and lodged under my bra, but I ignored the slight pain, numbed by what I had just witnessed. I felt powerless, unable to protect my boy.
"Please, please," Mark practically squealed.
I rationalized. Maybe this would teach my son a lesson, and after she freed him, he would never see this woman again. It might be an humiliating experience but he would get over it. I heard loud moaning. I stood and saw she had released him, but she was riding him cowgirl style and my son was staring at that abomination of an ass. He had a smile on his face.
I felt resigned. Rather than driving him away, this experience would probably make them feel closer to each other. I went home. Stripped off my clothes, unable to resist the desire building up inside me. I collapsed on the bed, my middle-aged tits jiggling. I reached inside the nightstand for my vibrator. I fantasized that I tied Mark to the bed in the basement and tickled him like a baby while I nursed him and Sloane was locked outside and forced to watch. This thought gave me some satisfaction.
I wanted to forbid my son from seeing her, but I've never had to directly order him to do anything. Instead, I gently suggest things, and he always has been such a good boy that he follows my advice. He agreed to go to the community college so he could live at home during his academic days. After he graduated he took the local job I suggested and agreed to live in the basement to save money. He's only 25 and he's not ready to be married or move out on his own. I planned to help him meet a wife when he turned 30. I would choose wisely for him--perhaps a plain petite career woman from a good family and well-to-do background would be right for him.
But now he's already having sex with that dreadful woman. He's much too young for sex. I'm sure that slutty Sloane pressured him into it. Ever since he met her, I stopped seeing the semen stains on his sheets when I do his laundry. I was ok with him masturbating because I know he needs some kind of release. But I shudder to think of him laying with that awful woman, and I fear he likes it because I know what his inappropriate preferences are. Sometimes he forgets to delete the search history on his computer, and I see the porn sites he visited when he used to masturbate in his basement bedroom. He looks at women with really large bosoms and butts. I was hoping he would outgrow these immature desires by the time he was 30 and it was time to match him with the correct woman.
I can't understand what drove him to this type of woman. It was tough raising him all these years without a father. His father was little more than a sperm donor. I was his main role model, and I'm nothing like the pushy domineering woman he's with now. Why is he so attracted to her and why does he refuse to heed my advice to break it off with her?
My concern over his inappropriate relationship turned to alarm when I secretly listened to a phone conversation between them. Sloane invited Mark to her apartment and promised to tie him down. At first I thought this would scare him away. That he would finally come to his senses and stop seeing her. I was appalled to see him getting ready to leave, seemingly with eagerness. I looked on helplessly as informed me he was spending the night with that awful slut.
I got sick to my stomach imagining the terrible things she could do to him. What if she mutilated him or whipped him or kept him tied down for so long he'd cry? I couldn't stand it any longer. I decided he needed me to rescue him. I simply would not permit my son to participate in some sordid bondage game. I looked up Sloane's address on the internet and drove over there in the dark of night. I was determined to put a stop to this unseemly affair.
Sloane lives in a seedy apartment complex on the other side of the railroad tracks. It stinks like a dumpster and was just as appalling as I imagined. I briskly walked past a bum in the parking lot, ready to kick him in the gonads, if he dared approach me. I found Sloane's apartment--#8B. I was about to knock on the door when I heard Sloane say in a loud teasing voice, "Coochie, coochie, coo."
This was followed by Mark's laughter.
"I'm going to tickle you," she said.
Mark laughed even harder.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle."
More giggling.
I realized I was too late and suddenly felt too embarrassed to knock on the door. She was tormenting my poor boy...humiliating him. How emasculating he must've felt to be tickled and unable to stop it. How long was she going to make him feel like that? I felt I needed to do something. I tried the door handle, thinking I could sneak inside and save Mark, if Sloane didn't stop tickling him within a reasonable amount of time. But the door was locked. I suddenly remembered something I saw once in Mark's search history. Something about topless women tickling tied down men. It occurred to me he might be enjoying this experience. I couldn't stand it.
"Are your balls ticklish?"
Mark didn't answer or at least I didn't hear him, but he roared with laughter.
"What's more ticklish? Your balls or underarms?
Mark kept laughing and I decided that was enough, but I still couldn't bring myself to knock on the door. Frantically, I ran around the back of the building. The bedroom light was on. I climbed on the air conditioning unit and peeked through a small space between the shades. Sloane, completely naked, was sitting on my nude son. She was running an electric toothbrush over his scrotum, while tickling his armpits with her other hand. Mark was laughing and squirming...and IT was erect. I was shocked! I almost rapped on the window but just didn't have the nerve. I turned around and slumped, my back sliding against the wooden wall. A splinter pierced my blouse and lodged under my bra, but I ignored the slight pain, numbed by what I had just witnessed. I felt powerless, unable to protect my boy.
"Please, please," Mark practically squealed.
I rationalized. Maybe this would teach my son a lesson, and after she freed him, he would never see this woman again. It might be an humiliating experience but he would get over it. I heard loud moaning. I stood and saw she had released him, but she was riding him cowgirl style and my son was staring at that abomination of an ass. He had a smile on his face.
I felt resigned. Rather than driving him away, this experience would probably make them feel closer to each other. I went home. Stripped off my clothes, unable to resist the desire building up inside me. I collapsed on the bed, my middle-aged tits jiggling. I reached inside the nightstand for my vibrator. I fantasized that I tied Mark to the bed in the basement and tickled him like a baby while I nursed him and Sloane was locked outside and forced to watch. This thought gave me some satisfaction.
