Sex Therapy : Mommy’s Creampies 14

My son asks for a session on my psychiatrist’s couch, but when we get into the meat of his problems I soon realize that he has deep, physical attraction towards me.  They say every man wants to kill his father and have sex with his mother, but what they don’t divulge is that there are some women who want their sons just as badly.

Read as the therapy sessions turns naughty and we do something very unprofessional.

Read An Excerpt

“I’m flattered, honey, really I am.  If I was twenty-years younger and—”

“You said that didn’t matter, Mom.”

He was right.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, slowly surrendering.  “How can I help?”

“At least show me how to handle a woman,” Clint said.  “I want to impress whoever’s my first.”

“Okay, stay there,” I said, and I moved forward off my chair and knelt at the side of the sofa next to him.  “Give me your hand.”

Clint sat up and offered me his arm.  I took him by the wrist and slowly started to move him towards my chest.

“Some women like it when you squeeze them a little,” I said, placing him on my breast.

Clint’s jaw shuddered as he breathed.  I don’t think he’d felt the soft touch of a woman’s breasts before.

“That’s it,” I said slowly, watching.

He was paying such close attention that it was hot to watch.  I breathed deep and my tits rose against the buttons of my blouse.

“Good,” I encouraged.

I looked to his face and his eyes finally came to mine.  He let out a soft laugh and so did I.  It was quite the situation that we found ourselves in.

“Can you feel my nipples getting stiff?” I asked him.

Clint looked to my chest and continued to squeeze, closing his eyes to focus.

“I—I think so,” he said.

“Let me help.”

I pulled my suit-jacket back off my shoulders and placed it on the floor to my right, then I opened a few more buttons of my blouse.

I took up his arm by the wrist and moved him inside my blouse, putting him on my lacy bra.

“Can you feel it now?”

Clint swallowed.  “Yes.”

His palm moved slowly and tenderly over my sensitive stud as it pushed out against the cup of my bra.  I hadn’t been explored like that before either.  Doing so under the guise of helping Clint was like a super-power.  I wondered how far I could take this, but perhaps neglected to think how far I should take this.

“That’s good,” I said softly, breathing deep and surrendering to his touch.

“Is it turning you on?”

“Very much so,” I answered.  “You?”

Clint let out a laugh.  “Are you kidding?”

He looked down at the bulge in his pants and I stared to it too.  It seemed even more appealing now that my juices were flowing.

“Want me to show you what a girl might do to that thing?” I asked.

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