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CC chose a cat o' nine tails.In a venue named for a cat, there were options even in this category, pardon the pun. To her credit, CC chose the lightest one. It was still a dangerous device, requiring expert use—unless blood was the intent. I saw Sheila's jaw clench. CC had crossed a line. Cynthia raised an arm, pointed toward a road barricade and said, "Naked."Her audience practically fell over themselves. They picked CC up, stripping her down and carried her to the oversized orange and white saw horse with the flashing yellow light. Cynthia had CC bend double over the the middle of the horizontal bar. At Cynthia's direction, CC's hands and feet were bound to opposite riser pieces. CC's position was almost inverted. She hung so far down that her hair touched the floor. The rope work was artistically done. Whatever else my clients were, they had knot skills.The beauty of the position was that CC's weight was almost fully supported by the narrow cross piece of the barricade, placed. And kept going till I was buried to the hilt.As the slow and steady love making started to turn into a raw animalistic fuck session as my mother wrapped her legs around my hips and started clawing my back with her nails, and broke the kiss screaming “fuck yes baby!!!! Fuck mommy’s cunt, knock mommy up with your cum!!!!” I grabbed her by her firmly…and slammed her into the wall with each thrust as she took that chance to kiss, lick and bite my neck and rocking her hips to match my rhythm. I felt her body quiver as she was about to orgasm, as I started to piston in and out of her like a pile driver, as she and I both was about to cum she screamed so loud that the whole block could have heard us “off baby fuck mommy with that big cock and fill mommy’s cunt with your cum!!!!Mommy is your whore!!! Knock mommy up baby….” I smiled as I kept assaulting her pussy relentlessly, not long after she screamed “ohhhh Brian!!!!” as I felt her pussy muscles clenching around my cock,I drove into her.
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I was always amused nonetheless, by the folks who would later tell me that despite knowing I was gay, I seemed to be a fairly ‘normal’ person.As an aside, I have to admit that in the years ahead, visits from local guys and strangers that I had met at our local pub and grill, proved to be rather ‘rewarding.’ I was often reminded of the words of an acquaintance of mine whom I had met many years before:“Men are like spaghetti, they are always straight until you apply a bit of heat.”This expression is not the purpose of this story, however, so before I once more become side-tracked, let me get on with it.*The couple who ran the pub and grill in the village were John and Heidi. He took care of the bar and she was in charge of the kitchen. They were a strange couple.A few weeks after I had arrived in the village, I was invited to Heidi’s birthday party. During that evening when she danced with me, after embracing my body she commenced grinding herself against me.‘What about the fact that I.

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