sexy teens
"The only unnatural sex act is that which you cannot perform." -Alfred Kinsey Outside the house, it was cold and dark. Donna Fuller heard a dog barking in the distance. She peered into the darkness outside the kitchen window. Her reflection stared back at her from the inky blackness of the glass. A gust of wind splattered raindrops against the window, distorting her image, making it soften and melt. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the pancakes.
She was standing at the kitchen sink making pancakes for breakfast. Her hand trembled as she stirred the batter. Closing her eyes had not helped. In a futile attempt to keep her mind from wandering, Donna cinched the cloth belt of her pink bathrobe around her shapely waist. She pulled the belt tight until it hurt. She was the picture of innocence, a young blonde housewife with blue eyes. But Donna knew what no one else could see. She knew it was only a matter of time before her mind began to wander, and the voices returned. Her nightmare could not be stopped.
"Begin action!" the voices shouted. When the voices returned, Donna relaxed. She had been dreading them, but she welcomed them back like an old friend. She knew what they wanted. They would take control of her amd direct her actions. They would make her feel like she was trapped in a pornographic movie. She knew that the fear of waiting was at an end.
"Let's go!" Donna shouted to her husband and kids. "Your breakfast is ready!" Her husband, Bob, was the first to the table followed by Cindy and Tommy, the twin teenagers. She would breast-feed the baby after the others left.
Cindy picked at her pancake like a bird while Bob wolfed down huge pieces of pancake dripping with syrup. Tommy imitated the poor eating habits of his father, holding his fork suspended in midair between mouthfuls, and never resting it on his plate. Donna gazed at her husband, entranced by the maple syrup dripping from his fork.
"Catch the syrup," the voices urged Donna. "Catch the hot sticky stuff with your fingers." Donna fought the impulse to stick her hand out and catch the dripping syrup. The voices wanted her to suck it off her fingers in front of her husband and kids. They wanted her to look her daughter right in the eyes and tell her how good the gooey drips tasted. Donna marvelled at how much of the hot sticky stuff never made it into her husband's mouth. The voices urged her to act. She was reaching out with her hand, when her son, Tommy, broke her concentration.
"Mom," Tommy complained, "Why does it always have to be pancakes on Friday?" With a sigh, Donna laid her hand down on the table and heard her voice respond, "Stop your whining, and eat your pancakes before they get cold. We eat pancakes because your father likes them." In her heart, Donna held a special affection for Tommy. He was becoming a man. He was starting to rebel, but she still controlled him. Donna was a young mother controlling a son who was bursting with spunk. The thought filled her with a tingling warmth.
Donna smiled at Tommy. He did not smile back. For Bob, Cindy and Tommy, the voices did not exist. They ate breakfast without concern. Only Donna was worried. The dripping syrup had aroused her. Her pussy throbbed with anticipation. She was anxious to get her husband off to work and the kids packed onto the school bus before something bad happened.
As if reading her mind, Bob looked up. "Heat me up a little, sweetheart." Donna poured the coffee quickly. Bob was a kind and loving husband, but he had a quick temper. He expected a quick clean breakfast. He was obsessive about hygiene. If she had licked his maple syrup off her fingers, he would have been shocked, but not angry. It took dirt to make him mad. Once he found a dog hair in his coffee cup and he slapped her hard across the face right in front of the kids. She did not want to make him angry.
Cindy finished first. She pushed away her plate, "Sorry, Mom, I have to watch my weight." Donna took Cindy's plate away. She served her family like a waitress. Her light blond hair was pulled back and tied with a red ribbon, to keep hair from falling onto the plates. She felt like a servant. The only difference was that she wore an old pink bathrobe instead of a waitress's uniform. Underneath the robe, she was almost naked. All she wore was a nursing bra with the ends of the cups removed to provide quick access to her nipples for breast-feeding.
While Cindy shuffled off to the bathroom, Donna bent down beneath the kitchen sink to fill the dog's bowl with hard brown nuggets of food. The nuggets rattled as they struck the plastic bowl. As Donna strained to hold the heavy bag of dog food, her robe fell open exposing her hanging breasts. She could hear the roar of blood rushing to her ears. To Donna, it sounded like muffled laughter from a room full of people. She hesitated before closing her robe. The voices told her to leave it opened. Donna felt a distinct sexual surge. When she looked up, she saw her son, Tommy, look away as she cinched the belt tightly around her waist.