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Stained Glass – Project Tips

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Stained glass has been with us for far more than a thousand years. People today are fascinated by the magnificence of light which passes by way of the artwork and the noticeable radiation of light into a home. Most persons think of the regular cathedral and church home windows.

Stained glass artwork was established to help connect stories to the masses of persons who could not read through. Books and other created functions were restricted for the several and were not readily available to the common public. The artists assembled pieces of glass paintings which were held together with direct to inform religious stories or to depict non secular beings.

Nowadays, stained glass kits are readily available and there are several books about this topic. As an artist and craftsman you have the selection of using chosen resources for smaller or big jobs dependent on your talent level and resource selections.

There are several jobs which can be done with stained glass. Bills will be dependent on your variety.

Stained Glass Venture Thoughts:

    1. Glass doorways

 

    1. Interior décor of homes and places of work to compliment with light, artwork, and color

 

    1. Exterior home windows to allow daylight to stream by way of artwork highlighting a home with light, mood, and vitality..

 

    1. Dwelling decor – lamps, mirrors, panels, home dividers, and containers

 

    1. Furnishings

 

    1. Jewellery

 

    1. Glassware and dinnerware

 

    1. Interior and exterior containers

 

    1. Wall hangings and other artwork pieces

Hand applications and electrical applications might be utilized. A lot more usually than not hand applications are most usually utilized. If you choose that this hobby might come to be a business enterprise then electrical applications would be required to speed output.

There are some dangers functioning with glass and if you would like to keep away from this medium other resources might be substituted.

    1. Acrylic panels: Purchase a crystal clear acrylic sheet and transparent paints built for stained glass application. Upon completion of this job its visual appeal will be incredibly very similar to glass. It will include magnificence to the home interior, is less costly, saves time, and safer than true glass. Other applications might be required dependent on the type and measurement of the job.

 

    1. Plexiglas: is also an acrylic but is manufactured more powerful and will expense far more than typical acrylic but it has a for a longer time daily life than true glass and not as expensive.

 

    1. Glass paint and faux main: paints which can be utilized are enamel and formulated acrylic tints built for glass. Direct trimming is utilized in regular function. Faux main is pretend and readily available as a liquid or paste.

 

    1. Resin: Liquid acrylic ordinarily utilized for smaller jobs and jewelry.

 

    1. Colored tissue paper

 

    1. Melted pony beads

 

    1. Contact paper

 

The Most Impressive Earth in Vedic Astrology

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Vedic Astrology is a part of Astronomy. It commences where Astronomy ends. The planets that revolve about the solar develop a grave effect on the lives of people today on the earth as properly.

For knowledge an individual’s horoscope, the 9 zodiac planets form the one most critical criteria. But it depends majorly upon where these planets are positioned in relation to just about every other.

Some of the incredibly primary matters in lifestyle which are defined by planets are

    • Contentment in an individual’s married lifestyle

 

    • How a lot of young children would a pair have

 

    • What is the career that a individual would pursue

Alternately, just about every of the planets also symbolizes some incredibly critical points in lifestyle.

Just as an instance, Venus earth in astrology is the image of appreciate and when properly positioned, it brings about appreciate and pleasure in a person’s lifestyle. In the exact same way, if the earth Venus is affiliated with malefic planets, or if it is positioned in a property which is not valuable, some challenges in one’s appreciate lifestyle are most likely.

Let us operate by way of some of the incredibly primary approaches of figuring out planetary strength. These are by no indicates complete but nonetheless would give us a excellent degree of concept relating to how a specific earth would impact us positively or negatively.

A host of other components also appear into play and these would include element and conjunction of other planets, and also the specific Nakshatra whereby the earth is positioned.

But the next would be the primary approaches of accessing the strength of a earth.

BENEFIC AND MALEFIC PLANETS

In a incredibly standard way, Moon, Venus, Jupiter and Mercury are regarded as benefic planets

Although Solar, Mars, Saturn, Rahu, and Ketu are regarded as as malefic planets

But just about every earth is possessed with its individual qualities and getting benefic and malefic has a lot to do with the placement of the earth in one’s horoscope.

FAVORABLE AND UNFAVORABLE Homes

In Vedic Astrology, properties way too are divided as favorable and unfavorable.

Planets positioned in properties one, two, 4, five, 7, 9, and 10 are regarded as favorable.

Equally, planets positioned in properties 6, 8, 12 are regarded as malefic.

The nearness of the planets, the standard character of the earth and the placement of the earth in a specific House of your Birth Chart, alongside one another represent to its strength and weakness. Thus the planets on their individual are not solid or weak and for that issue we cannot level 1 earth to be the strongest amongst all. If a specific earth is positioned in the right property, it could boost your lifestyle and bring all the riches, fame, glory and the points that suggest the most to you, creating it a more powerful earth for you. In the exact same way, it is”One particular for Each and every”.

We will now define a number of attribute characteristics of all the planets that are regarded as when researching Astrology. The planets have a specific particular characteristics of their individual, nevertheless, when it is in conjunction with other planets it may well also get motivated with the other planets. The placement of the planets is as a result of grave relevance.

Solar: Solar is the atma (soul) of all earth and humans as properly. It is the King of all planets and as a result possesses a variety of optimistic characteristics this kind of as getting a fatherly figure, has immense strength, retains self-respect, is just, and authoritative.

What the earth Solar overlooks is one’s physical wellness and vitality. So how an person jobs himself on to the world is genuinely dependent on the earth solar.

When Solar is solid in one’s horoscope, the person is incredibly energetic, and Solar makes the person a centre of attraction.

But is the Solar is weak in an individual’s horoscope, the constitution could be weak and the individual runs the threat of getting moi centric.

Moon: Moon is related to the intellect. It acts as the mom of all, and imparts appreciate, peace of intellect, positivity and emotions. Moon is money. It also signifies water and greenery. It is closest to the earth earth and as a result has an effect on us a lot.

The earth moon is the ruler of one’s appears to be and emotions. With the moon properly positioned, the person is happy, and the moon brings about a higher degree of social and physical attractiveness.

This in flip brings about achievements in lifestyle, as a happy individual would properly integrate with others.

But this is in distinction with a moon which is not positioned properly, and could result in panic or despair, or even hardship.

Mercury: Mercury depicts Intelligence. Individuals with a solid placement of Mercury in their Birth Chart are enterprise minded, have much better greedy ability, can think logically, great in math, are agile and alert. It also signifies speech and other enterprise related to it.

Mercury is the quickest earth in the solar program. It principles our intelligence and also influences our skill to talk.

With Mercury properly positioned, an person is possessed with high intelligence. Mercury also provides dexterity due to the fact Mercury principles one’s hands as properly.

Some of the characteristics of people today who have the earth mercury properly positioned include an aptitude speaking, creating and teaching.

Nonetheless, if the earth mercury is weak or afflicted, this would negatively impact an individual’s capabilities in these parts. This may well even translate to a harsh speaking style at situations.

Venus: Venus depicts appreciate marriage and enterprise. It improves your intercourse lifestyle, way of living, and bring along money and prosperity of all variety.

Although Venus is the earth of appreciate, it also signifies females in standard. Venus symbolizes attractiveness artwork and socializing, and the earth in essence stands for all great points in lifestyle.

When Venus is solid in one’s horoscope, it augurs optimistic for one’s relationship as the pair finds contentedness in their lifestyle and also create an appreciation for arts.

But if the earth Venus in one’s horoscope is debilitated, it could lead some type of disharmony in relationships. One particular could even face a trouble in relating with others.

Mars: Mars depicts bravery, bravely, complex and scientific strength and self-confidence. Individuals with a solid Mars are excellent soldiers, policemen, engineers, doctors and related professions affiliated with it. It also signifies land and genuine estate.

The earth Mars is the earth of atheletes. It signifies action. And with the earth Mars, we could appear to know about how a lot initiative does an person essentially have to bring about alterations in their lifestyle.

When Mars is solid, the person is possessed with an skill to outlast his rivals. He is genuinely possessed with the skill to get up and go.

But when Mars is afflicted, the individual may well conclude up getting the form of an person who fights way too a lot.

Jupiter: Jupiter is regarded as Guru – the teacher. Individuals motivated by Jupiter are spiritually clever and knowledgeable. Jupiter supports appreciate, marriage, and vacation. It depicts wisdom and training of the individual. One particular is also inclined to executing properly to mankind.

Jupiter is a excellent beneficiary, and it symbolizes wisdom, religion and growth.

The earth Jupiter also tells us about how a lot wealth would a individual generate in his life span.

With a solid Jupiter in his birthchart, the individual is most likely to be a properly educated individual who is properly to do.

In some cases when the Jupiter is afflicted, product prosperity fails to comply with.

Saturn: Shani is a hermit and depicts time previous age, poverty and lifestyle. It is a judgmental earth, and the individual with a solid Shani can do great in politics, enterprise, and other this kind of sectors that calls for your self-self-confidence. One particular with a solid Shani is hardworking, self-empowered and effective in lifestyle.

Saturn is the earth of decline, but nonetheless helps us recognize our constraints. It helps us figure out the matters whereby we cannot bring about a alter.

Saturn is the ruler of self-control and really hard operate. It is about accountability, longevity and decline that Saturn teaches us.

When 1 is blessed with a solid Saturn in his birthchart, you could be expecting the person to be dedicated, and with a perseverance to principles and traditions.

Nonetheless an afflicted Saturn could make 1 undisciplined, or even irresponsible.

Uranus: Uranus has all the characteristics of Mercury, nevertheless, it is a lot a lot more forceful or significant. We can phrase it as the improved version of Mercury. It denotes severe know-how and intelligence, or severe alterations (drastic) that 1 can working experience. It also denotes modern day technological innovation, hypnotism and black magic.

Uranus takes place to be a mysterious earth, and signifies a phenomenon which is unpredictable or abnormal. When Uranus is prominent in an individual’s birth chart, he pays a deep regard to his originality and liberty.

With the Uranus favorable, the intellect is sharp and the individual is possessed with a want to be unconventional.

Neptune: Neptune is the improved version of Venus. It denotes intuition, attractiveness and social lifestyle. It is also regarded for making confusion in the property it is positioned in.

Neptune, in a lot of senses could be found as the inverse of the earth Saturn, which is staunch and impassive. The earth is an idealist, but could conclude up getting an escapist at situations.

If the earth Neptune is balanced, the person is renowned for his attractiveness or public impression. Even so a Neptune not properly positioned could bring the individual nearer to illusions in lifestyle. He or she could even create issues with medication or alcoholic beverages.

Pluto: Pluto operates on a mass scale. One particular may well experience massive points going on to them (possibly great or terrible). It is a just lately discovered earth. It relates to mass, social and spiritual lifestyle, and political occasions.

The earth Pluto is regarded to enlarge the outcome of what ever earth it touches. Although Pluto is affiliated with ability, it does so in a way which is total or compulsive.

It is also regarded that the earth Pluto operates beneath the surface.

When Pluto is properly positioned, 1 physical exercises increased ability in excess of others and enjoys increased wealth.

But a terribly aspected Pluto can result in distress.

Rahu: Rahu depicts the ascending north node and has an effect on the moon the most amongst the planets. It bring title and fame, unexpected alterations, foreign travels to title a number of. It also aids in therapeutic diseases.

Rahu is the astronomical level, where the orbital route of the Solar intersects with the higher orbital route of the moon.

In standard, the earth Rahu is regarded as to be malefic.Nonetheless when affiliated with benefic planets, the earth Rahu brings about achievements, and excellent riches as properly. It could even pave way for refined arts or scientific discoveries.

But when Rahu is afflicted, it could result in malefic results as properly. This is vastly dependent on the earth it is most properly linked to.

Ketu: Ketu depicts the descending south node and has an effect on the solar the most. It is worshipped for spirituality and also operates in favor of switching occasions, incidents and breaking relationships.

Ketu, just reverse to the earth Rahu is the level where in the orbit of the Solar intersects with the decreased orbital route of the moon.

Just like the earth Rahu, Ketu way too is regarded as to be malefic. But it could offer a incredibly optimistic strengthen to an individual’s horoscope when it brings together with favorable planetary configurations.

World Ketu is possessed with abilities to bring people today to the in excess of worldly realms

All zodiac planets have their individual significance in astrology and can just take a individual to Rags or to Riches based upon their placements, their conjunction, the Zodiac Signs and Nakshatras. Even so, 1 could also reduce the unwell results of the planets to a specific extent by implements specific solutions. One particular could appease the ruling deity and surrender and could achieve appreciate, wellness, wealth, prosperity, abundance, and all points that suggest a lot to you.

What Could possibly Possibly Go Incorrect? five Rational Fears Nowadays

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Have you ever considered, what may probably, go incorrect, due to the fact of the steps, or failure to act, of our community officials? The actuality of community management, is, whilst, we often blame and complain, about what, these leaders, do, the true blame, really should go, to the American electorate, and its willingness, to consider, the vacant guarantees, and rhetoric, somewhat than demanding the real truth, and appropriate, sustainable, viable remedies! In these times, of so quite a few, fake specifics, 50 % – truths, and populist, extremely – simplistic rhetoric, our country threats, getting rid of its detect, and its position, in the world, for representing the finest, democratic, liberty, and independence – centered, choices/ selections. With that in head, this write-up will briefly attempt to take into consideration, evaluation and focus on, 5 rational fears, we all really should have, due to the fact of the existing political atmosphere.

one. Why we elect, who we elect? The character of political leaders: Analyze, why we vote, for particular candidates? Heritage shows us, most voters elect and decide on, people, centered on their populist rhetoric, and guarantees, somewhat than types, who make guarantees, which feed, their personal agenda, biases, and prejudices! We really should take into consideration, and analyze, the necessary character of an specific, their motives and motivations, and the greatest way, our country, really should progress!

two. Surroundings: While the relaxation of the world, at least, acknowledges, the actuality of local climate alter, and how persons affect our atmosphere, President Trump made the decision, to have the United States, get rid of by itself, from the Paris Accords (one of the only nations, to do so). He described, this go, by diminishing the prevailing feeling of the broad the vast majority of industry experts, and utilizing, lowering restrictions, as one of the justifications. Unfortunately, nonetheless, as President Macron, of France, just lately said, the world, does not have, a Planet B, due to the fact, the long term and sustainability of our world, is at – possibility, due to the fact of the failure to make viable, sustainable remedies/ conclusions, right now!

three. Power (oil and gas, and so on): President Trump’s conclusion to reverse the fuel economic climate requirements, for automobiles, explaining it, in phrases of financial conclusions, and so on, unless/ until, we target on lowering our dependence of fossil fuels, our atmosphere, energy – independence, and so on, is, at – possibility! Should not The usa be the chief, somewhat than trailing, most of the relaxation, of the produced nations, of the world?

four. Social Plan: Why does it appear to be, Donald Trump, equates, creating The usa terrific, once more, to lowering, our emphasis, on social justice, freedoms and liberties, we have emphasized, and fought for, for generations? The world has been emphasizing increasing this emphasis, but we have been going in the opposite course! What tends to make The usa, terrific, unless/ until, we target on what has, traditionally, produced us, so?

5. Excellent of lifetime (liberty and independence): For generations, the relaxation of the world, has looked, at the United States, to be a chief, in the fight for liberty and independence! We need to have to re – target on this vital eyesight!

What may probably, go incorrect, if we progress, as we have been, in these past sixteen months, or so? Upcoming generations will glimpse again, and how, will we explain this?

How To Be A lot more Appealing And What Makes A Woman

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It really is not the butter-pecan ice cream that’s holding you back from what helps make a actual girl, you know. How to be a lot more eye-catching is in solving a Specified (and I will convey to you how in a minute), that clears the way for miraculous improve and progress.

How to glance eye-catching and becoming the actual, luminous you commences right here (see and get a peek!).

If you’ve got ever required to get unstuck from a undesirable position in your lifestyle, this is the variety of compassionate, insightful, inspirational support you will need for what helps make a girl.

The Actual difficulties that keep you back are NOT about way too much food stuff (even sweets and junk food stuff!), your wrinkles, your bra measurement, or your money scenario.

You are heading to have to cease running from those self-projected inner creatures in the darkish, and commence staring them straight in the eyes and convey to them WHO IS Really IN Command.

Hold in head as you contemplate my information in this post what the Course in Miracles states about permitting go of self-projected panic:.

” Children understand terrifying ghosts and monsters and dragons, and they are terrified. If they talk to another person they have faith in for the indicating of what they understand, and are keen to enable their personal interpretations go in favor of reality, their panic goes with them.”.

How do you learn what helps make a girl?

Clear up the Right trouble:

– Crippling panic requirements to grow to be brilliant optimism and how to glance eye-catching.

– Annoyance must switch into comprehending and a fascinating girl.

– Sloppy behaviors grow to be genuine inner-commitment.

– Doubts dissolve absent and you Lastly see your targets begin to be obtained!

If you’ve got ever felt disregarded, unworthy, or disposable, and frightened of lifestyle, you can expect to understand how to switch that improper-minded, moi-dependent thinking all over into proper-minded, spirited views and steps for what attracts gentlemen to gals.

The Program in Miracles further states, “When a baby is served to translate her ‘ghost’ into a curtain, her ‘monster’ into a shadow, and her ‘dragon’ into a aspiration she is no more time frightened, and laughs fortunately at her personal panic.”.

You will need a group of sensible, loving gals with identical targets and struggles who are now fascinating gals.

You will find just no cause to NOT get a glance at what helps make a girl!

Earlier I held a dialogue on what is it about the Females Males Adore: and is there a solution to keeping your man from leaving?

It may be exactly the breakthrough your lifestyle requirements proper now!

It can be amazingly hard to come across a harmless, Non-public position in which you can overtly specific your fears, self-doubt, and wishes without the need of emotion judged or shamed.

You can come across many others who will enthusiastically give the help you will need to remodel into the self-confident, bought-it-jointly, radiant and attractive girl you are intended to be.

Come across your THUMBS-UP tribe of gals and mentors mates, for the reason that you absolutely do are entitled to this!

If you are serious about seeking self-progress and individual transformation as a girl, never test to do it all by oneself.

You will need people today who can sensibly guideline, recommend and suggest and mentor you.

You will not likely think what is out there on the internet now, but I promise you it is absolutely contemporary, new, and groundbreaking.

Everywhere you go you go, there normally appears to be some nasty critic or harmful man or woman waiting around to tear you down and convey to you that you happen to be no excellent.

Nicely isn’t really it time that plenty of is plenty of?

Indeed, I imply it is up to you from within just oneself to go from “a upset and perplexed mess” to “splendidly lovely” all by you.

(Again, I must add there a lot of chances and insightful product on the web for a clearer comprehending of what is actually heading on right now with associations and gentlemen, and what gentlemen really like about gals.)

To the attractive you!

When Should really You Start a Family?

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Lots of girls marvel when it will be the best time to start a relatives. The fact is, you truly are unable to just pick an age and determine that it is the best age. This is just just not the circumstance. There are quite a few various elements that go into determining when it will be the best time to get started acquiring small children. This is a thing that will fluctuate from one particular girl to one more. Confident, there are great ages, but none of them are going to be exact for anyone out there. This is simply because so quite a few men and women have various ideas of what will make them all set to be a mother or father. These are all important and legitimate factors to consider.

There are quite a few various arguments that say that men and women must start acquiring small children in their early adulthoodlet’s say all around the twenties. Very well, the men and women that say this do have legitimate details, but it is just not going to give you a textbook respond to to the concern. Most men and women that say that starting up a relatives at this age is a terrific thought will give causes these types of as the fact that they will be young and be capable to keep up with the small children. They also truly feel that they will have a whole lot much more energy and will be capable to deal with working with a new child child. Then you also consider that by the time they are in their late teens and early twenties, you will nonetheless have some youth remaining and be capable to live a little. These are all factors that men and women consider when acquiring small children in their twenties.

Then you have the men and women that think that the thirties are the best a long time to start a relatives. For these men and women, they also have a legitimate argument on their palms. They say that by the time they are in their thirties they will be much more secured in their occupations and be much better capable to support the relatives economically. They also truly feel that they will have much more worldly understanding and be capable to much better raise the small children. Next the understanding is persistence, which is gained in time. These are all terrific causes that they choose to wait right until they are in their thirties.

Very well, then you have to glance at it from an total point of view as perfectly as a scientific point of view. For men, it does not truly make a difference scientifically. They carry on to be capable to reproduce significantly into their more mature daily life. This is just a fact of daily life and mother nature, and how the human overall body operates. For girls, it is a various tale. Girls do have a biological clock that is ticking. This is simply because they only have a certain quantity of eggs in their ovaries. When these are absent, then her prospects of getting capable to get pregnant and have a child will be about. This is not a thing that you must truly stress about that much even though. Stressing about a thing that does not typically take place right until mid forties to early fifties is just not useful. By this time, most girls would not aspiration of starting up a relatives. They are at this level hunting to settle down and enjoy daily life – whether or not they are by itself or with a lover.

When you glance at the total details of view, you will need to have to just consider your individual scenario. Do you see yourself all set and capable to have a child? Are you all set to be up at evening with a new child? Are you liable? Do you have a lover that will enable you with the child? Do you truly feel that you will need to have one particular if you do not? All of these are responses that men and women could only be capable to respond to for by themselves. It is for this rationale that no one particular can give you a definitive respond to on when the best time to start a relatives is.

As you can see – pinpointing when to start a relatives is totally up to you and your spouse, or lover. Permitting someone else decide for you, or obtaining an invalid textbook respond to is just not useful. Just take the time to make positive that you are all set prior to you get started in the child creating method.

Who Is A True Feminist?

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One of the current wars where the minority is trying to impose their belief and conviction on the majority through bullying is the issue of Feminism. The self acclaimed feminists flaunt the facts-or lack thereof-in your face and dare you to disagree with them and face attacks. Most times, as Jonathan Swift the humorist is would say, the difference in opinion is usually over things indifferent. But Feminism goes beyond their narrow prejudices. It shall be my endeavor in this article to throw a little light on the role of the female in all parts of creation, and particularly the Human female in the Physical world.

Once again I am constrained to go back to the point of big bang. At this height were the two species of spirit-male and female-separated, for in the Divine realm there is no male or female for they are sexless. Hence the Archangels, for example, are sexless by virtue of the fact that they are found in the Divine realm. But there exist a prototype of womanhood even in the Divine realm, and She and those that dwell in the Garden of Virtues, part of her kingdom, possess feminine attributes.

At the summit of creation, and every descending plane thereof, the woman appears before the man as a necessary bridge. This is done right up to the physical world. Because of the higher nature of the woman soul, they thus become bridges through which new souls are incarnated on earth. This is because they are half a step above the man, and thus can pass as a transmitting channel to new offspring. Being finer in intuition and more delicate therefore, it is imperative that Man was incarnated first on earth as rougher and coarser copy of humanity. It is only after the incarnation and birth of man through highly evolved Apes (see my article Evolution vs Creation) that the woman followed. This was captured allegorically in the Biblical account of how man was created first, and woman created from his ribs. Thus in the link upwards, woman has a stronger connection with the beyond. Her activity is much more soft and spiritually higher than that of Man. What she lost in physical strength she makes up in spiritual strength.

It is therefore ridiculous for Women to seek equality with men-akin to a man insisting he is equal to his gate-man.

Unfortunately that is how it is today on earth. Women want to do coarser jobs on earth because according to them, what a man can do, a woman can do better. Even in practical terms it is impossible, for no woman can urinate across a gutter, and, despite the struggles of science, no man can get pregnant and have the child, unless he is a distorted soul, that is, he is a female soul in a male body. (See my articles on abortion, and the gay question).

In the new time such abnormalities will never be permitted to exist, and women will respect their role in creation, knowing their place is in the home and hearth.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/9876646

Our Five (Maybe Six) Main Senses

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We have five or six main senses, so I’m told. I’ll skip some that one might think of like ‘common sense’ which your parents tried to instill in you. Or maybe ‘sense of time’ which goes much faster when you’re having fun for some reason. There’s ‘sense of pain’ which can really hurt on your body or just in your heart. And then, ‘sense of direction’ which is more irrelevant in these days of gps units. There are a lot more, but I’ll cover them in a later article.

Some are easy to imagine and understand real easily. Like seeing, for instance. It’s easy to understand seeing. We use our eyes in this case, and we get certain perceptions from the size, color, and shape of those images. Seeing can be motivational, too. Whenever I see a fully chromed out bike, I want to get out on mine on the highway and go fast enough to get bugs in my teeth. But then what about seeing with our eyes closed? Are we seeing when our eyes are closed and we can imagine what it is there in front of us? Or what if we know someone is behind us and we know what they look like even though they aren’t in our direct vision? How do we know what size of person is there? If the thought of what they look like is present, and it’s just in our mind that we know something, then are we seeing with our brain, or our heart, or our imagination? Is that still seeing? I wonder. Sometimes we see things that make us cry even when they’re not really right there in view. Like when someone talks about the bravery or tragedy they have been involved in. Or imagining the sacrifice of our servicemen in some current foreign war. I cry when I think about that.

The next sense might be our hearing. Sometimes we can’t hear something that happened. If we didn’t hear it, was there still a sound? If the sound was in some range that our ears don’t pick up, did we hear it but not process it in our brain as a sound? Sound is a mechanical vibration in the air. How can vibrations in the air be recognized as anything but noise? And then they would just be a sound of soft or some degree of loud. When I’m driving along in traffic sometimes, some nice person might be playing his rap music at about 140 decibels and have all his windows open. When my whole car is shaking, is it hearing the music and trying to vibrate in time with the beat, or what? What if someone comes up behind and you can hear the rustle of their clothing, or striking of leather shoe on ground. That makes a wave length of some kind-so maybe different items make different wave lengths of noise. How do we know what it is if we’ve never heard that sound before? How does the frog in the desert know the sound of water? Very strange.

Tasting would be next. We can taste with our tongues, right? Can we taste with anything else? How about the rest of our mouth? Suppose you take a big gulp of a vanilla shake you got at the diner in one of those big silver tumblers they put under the mixing machine. Now if you swallow it right down, you get throat freeze and you can’t breathe, let alone taste anything. But if you slosh it around in your mouth, you can taste if fully and the vanilla flavor envelopes your whole body and makes you like the sensation so much you pour a little of your neighbor’s stash from their tumbler into yours when they’re not looking. You can do that by pointing out one of the posters on a wall to the right rear and keep talking about certain features to keep their head turned long enough to get away with it. So we’ve established that taste buds are throughout one’s mouth. Oh, I went to a party once where we were comparing the taste of different beers. We would go down the line and sample some of each beer. Some fools would spit theirs out into a bucket after tasting it, but that sounds stupid to any college student, so I swallowed mine. For some reason, the host had put all the worst tasting ones at the end of the line. All of them tasted pretty great. Which goes to show how a long line of something can enhance receptive taste buds.

What’s next, touching? Feeling? One or the other. Are they the same thing? I know if my favorite body of the opposite sex is sitting next to me, and she is touching me slightly, I have a certain kind of feeling. Most of the time we use our fingers to touch. If you’re playing touch football, it’s okay to touch the opponent with any part of your hand or body; so then that must mean that our whole body is a touch zone. Sort of like Auto Zone except you can’t get your battery charged the same way. When in the fall and you’re out in the yard after raking up all the leaves, you can stand under any tree and another leaf will fall down on you. This will happen for several weeks as fall lasts for that whole period of time. And when that leaf falls on you, you can feel it as it “touched” the skin on your head. On my head anyway since there isn’t much hair between the leaf and my scalp. Since the leaf is inanimate, and we’re not talking about inanimation at this time, then you could say you touched, or felt, the leaf. So we know that leaf touching is a sense if you don’t have much hair on your head. Come to think of it, people do say things about having sense in one’s head, but I digress. I know you can touch snow and your hand will feel cold; or you can have a cold and your mom will give you chicken soup and your nose will run and your cold will feel better. I’m not sure what that last part means, but it works.

I’m not sure what the next one is, oh, wait, maybe it’s smelling. Yes, smelling. Some of us smell more than others. As a former elementary school teacher, I can tell you that kids smell pretty bad sometimes. We often send them out to run around on the playground when it’s sunny and warm and they are wearing their classroom clothes. Many of them wear the same clothes all week, too. Some things smell pretty good. Chocolate comes to mind, as does baking zucchini bread. Dirty oil that’s just come out of your pickup’s transmission and smells burnt does not smell good. Sometimes the sense of smell gets mixed up with taste. Milk that’s been too warm and smells funny will always taste sour. Women who’ve just taken a shower but not put on any perfume or anything smell really good. Almost as good as chocolate. Their hair, too. Men don’t like all the add-on smells as much as clean. They like to breathe in the smell of a woman.

I can’t remember for sure what else. Maybe it’s french fries. French fries smell good, taste good, feel good, and even look good. Except for the scrawny ones that look like burnt up chicken feet-they’re not so good. They’re best when they come from Idaho. I don’t know why that is. (Most of the citizens of Idaho look like Mr. Potato Head, I understand. Can somebody confirm that?) Some people call french fries by the name of freedom fries. Then there’s your country fries and home fries. They’re the plumpest of all and come best when they’ve got some skin left on them. To have a good sense of french fries, you have to have the proper surroundings. Drive-in burger places are the best, especially if you are in a convertible. Restaurants that feature old 50s posters of movie stars that were popular then have pretty good fries, too. Most of the young women waitresses in those places don’t really know how to dress, however. You hardly ever see them with authentic poodle skirts and loafers with a penny in the front. And the guys don’t know you have to have black shoes with white socks, high water pants and your t-shirt should be rolled up with a pack of cigarettes in the sleeve. Of course, nowadays with the cost of a pack at about what a week’s pay was back then, maybe they should skip that. Fries that are real juicy are the best so you don’t need to break open so many of those little packs of ketchup of which half ends up on your hands. Then you smell like ketchup for the rest of the evening. That’s why it’s best to experience the sense of french fries last thing in the day so you can go home and take a shower.

And that’s that.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/9255709

Pierce Me!

in Pets Art by

There are various ways by which humans apply art to the body, these are called Body Art. Body art is done for the aesthetics, status, or identity. Some cultures adopt one and criticize the rest, or sometimes, adopt a fair share of one and condemn its ‘excessive use’. Body Art includes piercing (for the purpose of wearing jewelry or other ornaments), tattooing, branding, and scarification. I will treat ‘Body Piercing’ in this article.
I still don’t get the unfair criticism of Body Piercing. We express ourselves in different ways. I come from the Yoruba Tribe in Nigeria, a place where virtually all female pierce their ears, mostly from birth. And in this same society, nose piercing is considered as a sign of waywardness. I think nose piercing is cool, but really, they all don’t make sense to me, not even ear-piercing. I was at a gathering some time ago and I saw a woman probably in her mid-50s with her ears pierced in about 5 different locations each. She adorned the ears with beautiful jewelry. It was a beautiful sight, I must confess. But at that same gathering, I could see some people eyeing her with disdain. I don’t know if they were irritated by the fact that it was ugly to them or they just felt that it was wrong to pierce one’s ear in more than one spot.
Ever heard of The Taínos? It is a beautiful set of islanders in indigenous Columbus.

“The islanders were friendly and open to trade with the Spanish sailors. They traded anything for anything: balls of spun cotton, parrots, and spears for the sailors’ glass beads, red caps, and trinkets. Most interesting to the explorers, however, was the fact that the islanders had small pieces of gold pierced in their noses. In addition, they told Columbus that the inhabitants of other islands wore gold bands around their arms and legs. They also described countless islands, all like theirs. The Spaniards, believing that they had arrived in the Indies, soon called all islanders Indians.” -Microsoft ® Encarta ® 2009.

This is just to show that a pierced body doesn’t affect a person’s behavior, therefore stereotypes against body piercing is unreasonable and baseless. The next time you see a person with a pierced body, as unreasonable as it may seem to you, the worst you should do is keep your mouth shut.

If you see me with a pierced body, it isn’t just the piercing process that hurts, your words too pierce me.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/9475427

Happy Ending Erotic Massage

in Sports by

It had been a shock, though it shouldn’t have been. He was fifteen, after all, and healthy, and it was utterly ridiculous that I had not anticipated acquiring this knowledge at some point. Some of it had to do with the way I found out, walking in on him, already halfway across his room before I looked up and realized why he was frozen, with a pained, desperate look in his eyes, hunched over as if his stomach pained him. But, even though I am no innocent and know men have their desires and the various ways they tend to them, I somehow had forgotten to notice that my sweet boy was grown up. Almost a man himself.
And the rest of the shock had to do with how I had responded, after the initial full slam of mortified embarrassment. How I had tried to make it seem perfectly normal as I gathered up the clothes I had dropped in my haste to avert my eyes. How once that frantic need to not embarrass my son or give away that I was shocked and dismayed…..how there had been a pulse inside of that fading heat, a pulse that lingered somewhere low in my abdomen and drew my eyes inexorably over to his hands, clutching himself. How I was on the verge of telling him to continue, that it was natural, that I would just finish putting away his shirts and socks and underwear. A very unmotherly desire to see my son masturbate.
It was a heat that I thought I would never experience again, and I wrenched myself from that lingering look, and prayed he had not noticed. I had shut the door with a promise that I would always knock from now on. With a determination to shut away that rush of bewildering desire. And yet, I could not shut it out. I could not focus on my chores. My face buzzed intermittently for the next hour as I kept seeing over and over his lanky, young body, entirely nude for some inexplicable reason, his hands covering himself. I kept imagining what would have happened if I had told him to continue. The beginning of that imagination, anyway. I refused to entertain the thought, and jumped away from half formed thoughts, sometimes with a physical turning of my head. I realized he would probably not be coming out of his room tonight.
When I could not shake the thoughts or the increasing restlessness and swooping feelings, like the sensation of that first drop from a rollercoaster, except sweeter…..I retired to my own room, and I played my fingers over my own sex, not with the desultory efficiency that I usually conducted this task every few months or so. I came again and again, feeling as if my entire body was involved in the release. I bit back cries and shuddered and indulged as I had never indulged before. And I could not help wondering if we were masturbating at the same time. I could not stop myself from imagining him just next door, spasming into his hand, spilling onto the carpet. I could not help the immediate, sharp sweet release as I saw him, over and over again, only this time I stayed. Only this time I helped….. I gave in to the thoughts.
Shocking, yes. But, it was only masturbation. It was my head only, and while I apparently could not control myself in this, there was no need to treat him any differently. There would likely be a few weeks of awkward dancing around it, and he would likely begin locking his door, and he probably hated that it had happened at all. No need to bring it up. Force normalcy and don’t talk about it.
I masturbated again this morning though. I was sore from last night’s abuses, but I woke up aching and needful and I could not go through the morning routine of waking him up ten times before dragging him from his bed and making him eat his breakfast before Roger came by to pick him up. Dear Lord, I could not have touched him and felt that spark of immediate possibility. I came as the insistent blaring of his alarm sounded through the thin wall separating our rooms. I came to the surety that, as a strapping young man inundated with hormones and the constant build of testosterone, he would wake up hard. That in his heavy lingering sleep, he would not notice if I simply….brushed it with my fingers. That he would already be coming into my mouth as he woke with a start, and he would not have the presence of mind or the willpower to reject.
Just thoughts.
I washed my hands and poured his cereal and woke him up a dozen times. And he did not look at me, he moved slowly as if he was reluctant, and I hated that last night had happened. I daren’t run my fingers through his hair and kiss his cheek this morning. When Roger walked in, tossing back a Red Bull and full of morning jocularity, he had appraised me with a lingering look that told me all I needed to know about how experienced my son’s best friend was. He became almost flirty as he leaned against the sink and told me I looked very nice today, Miss Davis. And my son had pushed away from the table, pushed between us to dump his bowl in the sink and, still not even glancing at me, hauled Roger to the door, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
I sat for a long time at the table. I experienced the cool prickle of shame on every down beat of the bloom of desire. It had been so long since I had wanted anything sexual, and now….now with a desire stronger than anything else I had ever felt, I wanted to know my son. Intimately, lavishly, and unconcerned with the psychological fuckery. I tried to tell myself it was natural, but I knew deep down that the fact it was my son was a large part of this sudden need.
It became my obsession, this morning. How long had he been jerking off? Did he have a girlfriend? Or, perhaps a boyfriend. My mind flashed onto Roger and his easy, knowing look, but Roger was definitely straight. Did he have a collection of magazines? Except it wouldn’t be magazines, now, would it? Not these days. No, it would be the internet. Porn. What porn did he jerk off to?
That question stayed. And it was easily answered. I turned on his computer, logged into the master account, and pulled up his desktop. I brought up the internet history first. There was a lot. He spent a lot of time on the computer, something I could not stop him from doing. He needed the computer for homework, for his papers and Facebook and whatnot. But his internet history was scrupulously clean. I felt a hard disappointment as I scrolled through the last week. Perhaps he did not search internet pornography. I knew that couldn’t be the case.
So I delved into his folders. I looked for downloaded videos, and finally hit upon them, in an unnamed “New Folder”. I opened the videos, many of them the darkly lit kind of home made videos, amateur porn. They often featured pretty girls, naturally endowed, not shaved, and enjoying themselves. I was happy to see he did not seek out the plastic, over-acted and hard-bright professional videos. He came to reality, and I shifted a little, imagining him playing the videos, right here in the same seat that I was perched on.
When I had forwarded through his smallish collection, I clicked the next folder within, another unnamed folder. Curious why these would have their own separate place – perhaps they were his favorites.
The breathless blush slammed into me again as I saw his dark, lovely eyes looking up at me from the video thumbnail. Enough was visible to see that he was nude – or at least shirtless. There were three videos, and I moved the cursor onto the first one, in a daze. I clicked it.
He was settled on his futon, and I watched as he stared into the camera, pumping his hand up and down over himself, his muscles tensing. I got my first good look at my son’s uncircumcised penis and could not look away. I watched the foreskin slide over and down again, met his eyes as he made himself come for the camera. I did not skip through the video. I watched the entire eight minutes, my mouth watering and my throat dry, the nerves singing over my entire body. And when he came, I felt a gush of warm wetness spill from me, an overwhelming desire, soaking my panties and making me whimper out loud.
I moved as if in a dream, to close that video and start the next. This time he was standing, only his legs and lower half visible as he tugged on himself. The vantage was so that I could imagine kneeling in front of him, my face turned up to watch him pleasure himself over me. Who did he make these videos for? The frightening thought came to me that he was sending them out over the internet for others to watch, for perverts to get off to. Except, here I was, in the privacy of my son’s room, practically passing out from the rush of desire that his young, sweet body was rousing inside of me. I was the pervert.
I accepted it. My hand was already buried between my thighs, and I realized I had been pressing against my wrist and fist, grinding unconsciously against myself. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and stood. I hesitated only a moment before undoing my pants and pushing them, and my underwear down to my bare ankles, settling back into the chair and groaning at the thought that I was likely sitting on dried come. My son’s dried come, against my naked and slick vagina. I shifted deliberately back and forth, the canvas fabric providing enough friction across my engorged labia as I imagined I was re-wetting his spilled semen with my own juices. And I came as he did, without having to touch myself at all.
I glanced to the time at the lower right of the screen. I still had several hours before the high school let out, and I already knew how I would be spending them. I would not get a damn thing done today, but I was beyond caring. I closed the finished video and clicked on the last one, hitting it to full screen and settling back, sliding my fingers into the puffy and swollen lips of my vagina, revelling in the delicious slickness.
He was standing again, wearing tight briefs, and he was hard. He grabbed himself for the camera, squeezing through the fabric and pushing down on himself. He was certainly beautifully endowed. I was beyond wondering why he was filming himself masturbate, only waiting breathlessly for him to really start, sliding my fingers over down to my clenching, grasping opening. Come on, baby, I thought wildly. Show me. Take off your underwear. It’s okay.
I came to the thought of saying this to him in real life. He did not remove his underwear. He sat down onto the futon, and I realized he had a tshirt on as well. This was a relatively recent video, as his hair had begun growing back from the last time he buzzed it off. I guessed it was only a few weeks old.
In the video he glanced up, listening, searching with his eyes, pausing. Then he looked back at the camera before picking something up….A pair of black panties. I paused, a cooling sweeping over me. For just a moment I wondered whose they were, but I knew very well. Or, I thought I knew. I was wearing a pair just like them, part of a three pack. And I only had two pairs left from that pack. My mouth went entirely dry as he folded the fabric over and around until he was staring at the gusset. He brought my panties up to his face and ran his nose along the soiled gusset, and a sound – like a gasp and a whimper – burst from between my lips. I couldn’t move as I watched him pull in several deep sniffs. I saw his sensuous lips part and his tongue flicked out, lapping at the fabric, and suddenly I was masturbating furiously, crying out with utter abandon as I watched my son savour the scent and flavour of ME.
I came three times in rapid succession, even as my mind told me over and over – this means nothing, he just wanted underwear, mine were convenient, OH GOD WHY CAN’T I STOP COMING. I pulled my hand away and squeezed my thighs together, almost crying, gasping breathlessly. On the screen, my sweet boy suddenly put down the panties and removed his shirt. He kept his skin tight briefs on. He picked up the panties again in both hands and buried his whole face in them before letting go with one hand and reaching between his own legs to push and grasp at himself. I watched him close his eyes with an almost heavenly reverence as his pink tongue flashed out again. He drew the panties into his mouth and bit down on them, chewing a little, before going back to sniffing them and licking them as he squeezed himself between is splayed legs.
I watched, my mouth gaping stupidly, breathing harshly over my own too dry tongue as he finally stood again and shucked his own underwear. He sat back and smelled my dirty panties as he began to truly masturbate for the camera. I didn’t know which to look at – his beautiful penis or my panties in his mouth. It was quickly resolved when he draped my black panties over the head of his penis and started to masturbate with the fabric of them.
I was sitting forward now, my face only inches from the screen, and I pushed my own hand between my legs again, briefly thinking I would need to use the hair dryer for a long time to dry his seat before he came home before completely losing myself in the sinfully erotic nature of watching my son masturbate with his mom’s dirty underwear.
He leaned his head back as he slowly drew the fabric up and down, and he spoke the first word he had spoken in any of the videos, in his too manly voice which had deepened three years ago, and seemed so incongruous with his build and his youth.
“Oh, mom,” he said.
I froze again.
“Mom,” he practically whimpered. “That feels so good.”
My fingers were not moving, I was completely still, but suddenly my body convulsed and I came anyway, sobbing out a surprised cry. I watched as he pushed the fabric aside and licked two fingers of his right hand and ran them lightly over his shiny head. “Oh mom, oh please, it feels so good when you lick me….”
My mouth, so dry just moments before, flooded with saliva and I could practically feel his bulging head against my tongue. My fingers were moving of their own accord now, my mind no longer insisting that this was wrong. I could not think, there was no room for thought. He wanted me, he was masturbating to the thought of me me flicking my tongue over his cock, as I had masturbated this morning to that very thought.
I stopped noticing the peaks of orgasm, they were so close together as to seem almost one long orgasm felt in swells and falls. He shifted and turned to lie down along the length of the futon, on his back and continued to masturbate with my panties around the base of his penis, only now he was pumping his hips up and down into the air, slowly, sensuously, barely moving his hand at all, and I imagined him beneath me – something I had purposefully kept out of my head. I imagined myself sitting atop my son and having him pump up into me. I pushed my fingers into my painfully tight opening and came harder than I had ever come before.
All the while, he uttered “mom”, sometimes begging in a strangled whisper, sometimes saying it loudly with an insistent urgency. He picked up the camera and moved it around so that I had a close up view of my panties strangling the base of his hard on. A close up of his head, shiny with precome, a close up of the thin stretched foreskin enveloping and releasing the tip.
It was when he moaned, “Oh, mom, your pussy feels so good,” that I was reminded of the fact that I was masturbating to my son. Instead of falling from the edge of arousal, though, it only pushed me harder. I whispered his name out loud, testing it on my tongue, and was blinded by another sweeping orgasm. I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, imagining my sweet boy filling me, spreading my lips with his width, begging me….
“Mom, I’m going to come,” he cried out. “Oh mom, can I come inside of you?”
My fantasies had never gone so far. I ground down onto my knuckles and gripped the edge of his desk with my other hand and said, “Yes, baby, come inside of me.”
He spurted, ropes of thick come fountaining into the air and I was sobbing out his name, and I came too, suddenly wanting nothing more than to actually feel him come deep inside of me, to have him drip from me, to look into his eyes – which were not visible from this point of view – as he cried out for his mom, and clutched at me.
The aftermath of that wild abandon was worse, in a way. I watched the screen as the portion of his abdomen that was visible heaved slowly up and down, wishing he would move the camera so I could see his expression. Was he disturbed? Euphoric? Was this a fantasy he regularly indulged in, or a once off? He had come harder in this than in the less thematic videos, but, did that mean anything? I could see a glob of white come quivering on the black fabric of my panties, still wrapped around his slowly softening penis, and I felt a strong urge to suck that up into my mouth and mash it with my tongue, consume it with a slow swallow.
He did not move the camera angle. One moment I was hanging on the verge of desire – a desire that somehow entwined with a sudden surge of love for my precious boy – and the next second, the screen went dark, the video was over.
I slowly extricated my aching fingers, clenching them and loosening to relieve the ache, feeling a little numb, perhaps in a state of higher shock than last night’s initial awakening. I tried to feel chagrin, or shame, or disgust…. Maybe that would come later.
It hasn’t yet. And I have downloaded that video for myself. It is enough, for now. It is enough to know that at least once, my beautiful boy came to me – specifically me. To the smell and taste of me, to the thought of burying himself in me. That is enough.
[LATER]
Tonight something happened that I will never forget, for as long as I live. As I type this, feeling loose and sated and trapped in a state of surreal wonder and almost giddy contentment, my son is sleeping in my bed. The sheet is draped over his naked body, rising over the contours of his chest and legs. One arm is curled over his head, his hand in a loose fist, his sweet mouth open as he breathes in long breaths of sleep. He looks so young and strong, so vital. His lips move every once in a while, and I hear him sigh that one word that makes my heart trill; “Mom….”
The last two weeks have been full of a strange duality. The day he came home after I found his home videos, I realized that something inside of me had been broken open to the point that it couldn’t be repaired. I followed through with our routine, knowing my role from years and years of doing so with him, but there was a presence inside of me – a presence that was wet and dark and pulsing, a presence that watched my son avidly as he sat at the kitchen table, one hand buried in his lengthening hair as he slumped over his homework. This …. awareness focused deeply on his mouth as he lifted the spoonful of spaghettios; it trembled with need as his lips closed over the metal and I watched him swallow the bite. He looked up at one point and I almost flinched away from his gaze, certain that he would see my lust in the clear bright study of my eyes, the high colour on my cheeks, the throbbing fullness of my own lips. Instead, I smiled at him and told him I loved him, and he didn’t smile back – our encounter had happened just the night before, after all – but he blushed sweetly, a burning blush that seemed to travel slowly down from his cheeks to his neck, under the collar of his t-shirt. And I was strongly reminded of him coming to the thought of me.
After he was finished with his schoolwork and had disappeared into his room, I picked up his empty bowl and spoon and took it to the sink. A sudden urge overtook me and I put his used spoon in my mouth, curving my tongue along the dip of it, shuddering with pleasure at the thought of tasting his saliva. I found myself doing many odd things like that over the next two weeks. Rummaging through his dirty clothes and savouring the smell of him. When he showered, I would retire to my room and masturbate furiously as the sound of the running water thrummed through the house, through me, and I imagined him tugging at himself in the shower, imagined walking into the bathroom and offering my assistance. Imagined fucking my son. It was a darkly lit two weeks, and I believe I kept my composure through it, though I slipped twice.
The first time was last weekend. Some of the embarrassment and tension had slipped away and we had fallen back into our normal pattern of interaction; I was Mom, he was my exasperating 15 year old son. The duality was still there, watching him with lust, but it was easier to keep it in the back of my mind. I had come to the realization that no matter how badly I wanted to taste him and feel his bare skin against mine, it would not happen. And with that came a sort of peace from my obsession, and I could resume life with an easier step.
On Saturday morning, he asked if he could spend the day with Robert; they were planning to go up to the skate park and be moody and cool. I told him I didn’t mind as long as he left time to mow the lawn – it was supposed to rain all next week starting on Sunday. He agreed and we went about our separate mornings; I had a few errands to run, some bills to pay. I got back home at noon and he was already gone. I put away the two bags of groceries and lowered the blinds in the house and went to my computer – located in the common room – and opened up my hidden folder. I spent a good hour masturbating to my son’s singular video, still surprised at how sudden and intense the arousal was after two weeks. My obsessive watching and imagining had not dulled the spark and desire. After that hour I planned to shower….but instead I pulled my panties back up and shifted around, wetting them. I went about the rest of my daily duties in a kind of feverish state, alternately feeling extremely aroused by what I was half planning, and somewhat ashamed.
When my son got home right before sunset, he went right out to mow the lawn. He came in reeking of grass and fresh sweat and asked what was for dinner; I told him waffles, with a smile. He smiled back at me, and said he was going to take a shower.
“Alright, baby. Just leave your clothes outside the door; I’ll throw them in the wash with mine.” He waved a hand in acknowledgment as he turned away. I waited, my body buzzing with a dangerous feeling; elation and that strange roller-coaster fall sensation. When the shower started up, I stripped quickly, grasping my still-damp panties in one hand and went to the bathroom door where his jeans and t-shirt and boxers were crumpled right outside. I bent to pick them up, wholly intent on this plan, when I realized the door was ajar.
I am not entirely naiive. The fact that my 15 year old son had left the bathroom door slightly open seemed a gross transgression, far outside the norm. If I had been a boy his age, I would have closed that door tight and thrown the lock. I stayed there for a moment, naked, staring at the band of light and the steam curling lazily from the crack, and I leaned forward just a little to try to see him, wondering if he had left the door open in an absent hurry or if it was somehow an invitation to me. That last part was ridiculous. I shook myself and stood, my inner thighs once again slick with arousal, and I almost forgot my plan. I let my panties fall from my fingers, onto the floor between the bathroom door and his room. I hoped he would assume they had been dropped as I carried the load to the wash. I hoped he would ignore them….no. I hoped he would take them and pick them up and use them, perhaps in a new video. I threw on a thin, sky blue camisole and a pair of cotton shorts. Saturday dinners are usually very casual affairs.
That night as I made my way to the laundry room, the panties were gone from the hallway.
The second time I slipped was when he came home with his mid term report card, on Monday. He had gotten mostly B’s, one A, and a C. We were standing in the kitchen together as he slung his back pack off his shoulder and handed the envelope to me, smiling with an earnest pride that made my heart sing. I looked at his grades and shouted, “Oh my God! Congratulations!” He ducked his head, smiling even more and blushing. I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug, full of pride for him. He seemed to freeze as I squeezed him, praising him for bringing his math and geography grade up and managing an A….I felt him try to pull back a little and all of a sudden that other part of me, the dark and lustful part realized why.
I should have let him go. Instead I pressed in closer, no longer talking, but needing to feel him against the length of my body. He shifted his hips back but I held him, and he let out a little sound, like a breathless “whoof” next to my ear as my thigh brushed his very obvious erection. Still I held on, my heart racing, my blood risen to the surface of my skin and singing, my muscles tight.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said again, though now my voice was a whisper. I turned my head slightly so that my mouth was almost brushing his ear, so that his hair moved in the breath of my whisper. I drew back a little and planted a lingering kiss on his cheek, near the corner of his mouth, wanting so badly slide my lips onto his, to reach down and grasp the belt loop of his jeans and tug him forward against me. I hung on the brink of that action for more than a second, quivering, every part of my body needing me to do this one thing.
Of course, I didn’t. I let him go and managed to smile at him. His entire face was a bit pale, his dark eyes wide and almost frightened looking. As I stepped away he hunched forward a little and tugged the hem of his shirt down, trying to do so casually. My eyes fell to the motion of his hands and he spun away, going to his backpack and picking it up, walking a bit stiffly. “I have a report to write,” he mumbled, and he disappeared into his room, shutting the door all the way. I waited, but I did not hear the latch of the lock. And again, I thought to myself, that was very strange behaviour for a boy unwilling to have his mother walk in on him. I lowered myself into the kitchen chair and sat there, staring at the report card, wanting to feel some sort of misery at what I had done, what I had almost done. But all I could do was strain my hearing, trying in vain to hear whether he was masturbating.
Then, today happened. Or, I suppose, now it was yesterday; I can see on my clock that it is twelve minutes past midnight. Wednesday. He came home from school with a permission slip for me to sign. He handed it to me without a word and went to refrigerator for a soda. I looked down and saw that the school was asking parental permission for my son to attend an in-school sexual education seminar. Because he was under 16, they needed my signature. The option for kids who did not have permission was to sit in the cafeteria and watch a nature show documentary. I was sitting at the kitchen table, and I looked up to see that my son was blushing hard and studiously examining his shoes.
I picked up my pen to sign; of course sex ed is important, but before I touched pen to paper I looked up at him again. We had had a version of “the talk” several years ago, but he had still been a boy then. I knew now how much he’d grown.
“Are you still a virgin?” I asked gently. I told myself it was responsible of me to ask, the right thing to do. After all, I was his mother. But no, that was not the only reason. Of course it wasn’t. I was very interested in what he had to say.
He flushed even darker and stared at me, taking a quick swig of his soda and clearing his throat. “Um, yeah?” he said, in his slightly sarcastic voice. His, “what’s it to you?” voice. I nodded and looked down at the permission slip, again not seeing the school document. I felt as if I couldn’t quite catch my breath, and my palms were suddenly slick with sweat. I dropped the pen and wiped them on my thighs beneath the table. I cleared my throat then.
Without looking up I said, in as casual a voice as I could, “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” I did look up then, and he wore a pained expression. “If you have any questions, or anything, if you need condoms or -” a blowjob,I thought wildly, “-anything, you can come to me. No judgment.”
“Jeez, mom,” he said, refusing to look at me. I felt an immediate rush of chagrin. I hadn’t meant to embarrass him, and had I taken it too far? I wiped my palms again and picked up the pen once more.
“I mean,” he said. I looked up and he had stepped closer to the table, still looking pained but suddenly very sweet and open. “Thanks,” he said.
I signed the paper and handed it to him with a flourish, trying on a teasing grin. “Have fun,” I said.
“Yeah, right.” He stuffed the paper into the front portion of his backpack and zipped it up. We stayed like that for a very long, awkward moment. I could feel myself sweating heavily now, my armpits slick with it, my blood racing. It was that same feverish feeling that had sat upon me when I was planning to leave freshly soiled panties for my son to find. I kept trying to push the thought, the frantic thought of him being a virgin, of him having never experienced that. How much had he experienced? It wasn’t my business. I couldn’t help wondering.

Happy Ending Erotic Massage

I stood up suddenly, making my son raise his eyebrows in surprise.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, needing to masturbate, to assuage this ravenous need, this unasked question from between us. Do you want me? I clenched my teeth together and walked quickly to the bathroom, shutting the door and leaning against it for a moment, my heart still beating very fast, feeling sweaty and feverish. Do you want me to take your virginity?
I stripped quickly, dropping my clothes where I stood, and turned the shower on hot, as hot as I could stand it. I stepped in and leaned against the cold tiles, slipping my hand between my legs and closing my eyes, imagining him putting his hand there. Imagined directing him on how to make me come.
I came several times, to the point that my legs felt like jelly, but I could not shake the feverish feeling. I eventually took a perfunctory shower – how long had I been in there? – and twisted it off with a final, savage yank. The water stopped. I opened the curtain….and realized there was no towel.
I looked at the untidy pile of my clothes on the floor, and at the small hand towel hanging by the sink. I looked at the door. In a voice too soft to be heard, I called my son’s name. I was starting to sweat again, as I dripped on the bath mat. Just having called his name was enough to set me spiralling deeper into the immense need, and I closed my eyes. No, it was fine, I would dry off with my pants as best I could, maybe I could manage to wrap them around…..
“Mom? Did you call me?”
My heart slammed up a notch. I took a step towards the door. How had he heard me? Unless he had been standing right there.
“Mom?”
I swallowed several times, my throat dry. “I …” my voice cracked and I tried again. Jesus, he had to have been right outside the door to have heard my tiny call. “Could you get me a towel, honey?”
Silence for a few excruciating heart beats. “Yeah,” he called back.
I waited on the cusp for what seemed an eternity, alternately shivering and sweating. I’d need another shower, and I might need to think about sending him to stay at my brother’s house for a while. This wasn’t going to work out, I needed to realign my thoughts. I was his mother for fuck’s sake.
The knob turned and his arm appeared, holding a towel. I stared at it, unable to move.
The door opened further and he stepped in and froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights, stunned and frozen in place as he saw me standing there. His eyes raked me from top to bottom and he flushed bright red, and I closed my eyes, trembling a little, biting back the rising sigh caught in my throat. When I looked again, he was still there, still with his arm out, the towel clutched in his white knuckled fist, his eyes locked on me, on the dark shadow between my legs. I reached out and took the towel from him.
“Thank you,” I said, in a voice that was more like a whisper. He nodded rapidly and felt clumsily for the door. I drew the towel against me, still shivering now but with a thrilling and dangerous anticipation. I did not wrap it around me, just held it between my breasts, waiting for my son to leave, or stay. I didn’t know what. I was close enough that I could reach out and touch his chest, if I had the ability to move.
His eyes finally travelled up to mine, and he looked struck dumb. His quest for the door had stopped.
I licked my lips and tore my eyes from him, looking at that door. “Were you outside the door?” I asked. The words just spilled from my mouth without conscious thought. My son turned an even darker shade of red.
“I was waiting to take a shower, um, and I thought you were….I had to pee,” he finished. I looked down at him and he immediately covered himself, crossing his hands in a pitiful attempt at casualness.
I swallowed again. “Don’t let me hold you up,” I said, slowly gathering the corner of of the towel and pulling it around myself, flashing my body one more time, affecting a nonchalant manner that was only surface deep. Inside I was a taut wire, a gleaming steel sheaf of nerves and muscles. I could feel the last two weeks of need bursting within me as I tucked the towel under my arms and gestured towards the toilet, the shower. I knew he was hard, and I knew that he wanted me. Every time his desperately wandering eyes settled on me, they lingered, and oh, yes. He was hard. Suddenly none of my reasons for keeping this secret to myself mattered. He wanted me, he was desperate for me, and in a mingling of sexual need and motherly devotion, I wanted to ease his agony.
“Go on, I just need to brush my teeth and hair. Don’t mind me.” I stepped around him to the sink and started the water running. I looked up from under my eyebrows, watching him in the reflection of the mirror. He did not go to the toilet, he did not even move. But his eyes were on me all the same, his mouth open.
I began brushing my teeth, bending over the sink and thrusting my hips back to spit the thick white paste from my mouth, shifting my stance. In the mirror, he was staring at my ass, and I thought I saw his hands move a little. A small press into his clothed crotch. I felt the need strum higher in me and leaned further to spit again and rinse my mouth, bending at the waist and feeling the towel ride up high over the backs of my thighs. I could feel myself pulsing and aching down there, and when I stood and turned, my son froze again.
“If you need to shower, please, go on. I left enough hot water.” I paused and lifted an eyebrow. I reached out to touch his face and saw his breath hitch. “Are you alright, honey?”
He pulled away from my hand, his eyes slipping closed for the briefest moment. “I’m just waiting for you to….”
“Go?” I finished for him. “Suit yourself. I’ll be a few minutes more, I just need to put on lotion after I brush my hair. If you are embarrassed, don’t be. I assure you I’ve seen you naked before.” I stepped a little closer and put my hand on his taut forearm, curling my fingers lightly around his chorded wrist. I looked up at him from under my lashes. “There are no secrets, between us.”
He stared into my eyes, his lips moving, forming words he could not manage. I smiled and took my hand away, reaching for my brush. “Don’t worry about me. Just, you know, do your thing.”
He looked too incapable of thought to realize I could easily brush my hair and put on lotion in my own room. I started brushing, still watching him, a small voice inside asking me what I was doing. I ignored it.
My son turned so that he was facing away, towards the door, and he pulled his shirt off over his head in one quick movement.
My own breath caught as I stared at his back, young and sinewy with the muscles of youth. He kicked off his shoes and pushed down his pants, but not his boxers, stepping out of them. He glanced back at me over his shoulder and I realized I’d stopped brushing my hair. I set to it again, still keeping my eyes on him.
He turned on the shower without removing his boxers, still facing away from me. For the briefest instant I could see the tent he made with his hard cock pressing against the fabric, and another deep pulse of need flared within me. He was so close, in real life, standing there almost naked and so aroused that he couldn’t even move properly. I watched his shoulders tense, and then he shoved off his boxers and jumped into the shower, drawing the curtain closed….and then letting it fall back. I looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he turned to face me, the water flattening his hair to his head. He looked at me with pleading eyes, and he slowly reached down and grabbed himself, gripping his impossibly hard erection, the foreskin slipping back a little to reveal his shiny wet head.
I just as slowly set my brush down and looked back into his desperate eyes.
“Mom,” he said, and I didn’t exactly hear him, though I could see his lips forming that word. An electric jolt of powerful energy surged through me and I felt my wetness oozing warmly down my thighs. “Please,” he said, a little louder. “Please…..”
I didn’t make him finish the plea. I dropped my towel and stepped forward, into the shower with him, my eyes still locked on his. A look of gratitude swept into his eyes.
Do you want me? My mind seemed to breathe the question. But I knew the answer, and did not need to ask it. I moved close to him, so that his knuckles grazed my thigh as he gripped himself. I lifted my hands to his face, and the moment my fingers touched him he seemed to sag, his eyes fluttering, a moan escaping his lips. I waited for him to focus on me again, needing to be sure, though I already was. I felt as if I would faint, or float upwards into the rising steam. I had never wanted something more than this, and I could hardly believe it was happening.
His eyes focused on mine, still pleading, his pupils so dilated I could barely see the rich dark brown of his irises. I tilted my face and stretched my neck out and planted the softest kiss upon his lips, feeling my love for this sweet boy and my lust for him expanding as I brushed my lips across his. I had expected a spark, or a bolt of damning lightning. Instead, the sweetest chord of desire bloomed from that joining and seemed to travel over me with a gentle, rising heat. This was right.
This was right.
I wanted nothing more than to bury my hands in his wet hair and pull him into a lover’s embrace, but I remembered what he had said earlier. He was still a virgin, and I had no way of knowing how far he had gone before with a girl. I released him from my hands and lips with a sigh and opened my eyes to see him, less than an inch away, his own eyes closed, his brow furrowed deeply. After a second he let out a little whimper and I stepped back half a step. Waiting.
He opened his eyes and tried to speak, but no sound came out.
“Let me wash you,” I said, reaching around him for the scrubby thing. I poured liquid soap onto the rough netting and clapped the lid shut. I started rubbing the soap into the scrubby, working out a rich lather, staring down at the suds, almost hypnotized, hanging on the brink, my mind a clamouring blankness. I found that I, too was having difficulty speaking. I reached out and gripped his shoulder, turning him towards the shower head. I pressed the scrubby thing to his back and began, making slow, widening circles with the soap from one shoulder to the other, and down across his flesh. His shoulder blades and muscles flexed and as I worked the soap into his skin, he put a hand out to brace against the tiles. His other hand was still in front, holding himself, though his arm did not flex with movement.
I turned him back to me and we stood there as the spray washed the soap down his legs, pooling around our feet and swirling to the drain. I poured more soap on and pressed the scrubby against his chest, watching him tremble a little. I ran it along his arms and over his flat stomach. He still held onto himself, and the further down that I moved along his abdomen, the more he shook. His eyes were on me, wide and almost fearful, but there was a hunger in the way he watched me. I crested the roller coaster and dropped every time I saw that almost possessive need. He was leaning towards me unconsciously, and I rested my free hand on his chest to keep him from falling forward.
A moan escaped his lips as I moved the scrubby from his upper pelvis to the left, washing his thigh. I wanted to touch him, to replace his hand with mine, but there was an invisible barrier. I came as close as I dared under the flimsy guise of bathing my son. I didn’t even dare to look directly at his erection. A part of it was the knowledge that once we crossed that barrier, nothing could ever be the same between us. Another part was a desire to hold onto this moment of anticipation for as long as possible. I knew he was in a sort of sexual agony; the hand he had wrapped around his penis was almost white from the pressure of his grip, and the tip of his head that was peeking out from his taut foreskin was almost purple. I turned him again to face the spray and as he let it wash over his soapy body, I gathered another pool of soap onto the scrubby.
I reached out a hand and touched his side. He almost flinched, and then his ribs expanded under my fingers in a deep breath.
“Will you wash me?” I asked him.
He stilled, his breath caught in my hand, then he expelled it in a rush. I reached my other hand around him, holding the scrubby out to him face up. Now I was almost embracing him, and as I waited for him to take it from me – I had no doubt that he would – I gave in to one of those sudden, strange desires. I licked his back, between his shoulder blades, barely managing to stifle my own whimpering moan. He tasted faintly of soap, and water spilled over my tongue as I dragged it over his warm skin, but still….I was tasting my son. I shuddered as he arched his back at the strange action and immediately submitted to it, seeming to melt a little, almost pressing back into me. I pulled my tongue back in reluctantly and pressed my lips to him briefly, and sighed, closing my eyes.
I said his name. “Wash me,” I said again, my mouth moving against him.
I felt him take the scrubby from my hand and I immediately turned to show him my back. I waited, knowing he was staring at me, wondering if he would, wondering if he was jerking off behind me now that I couldn’t see him.
I felt him touch my left shoulder very lightly, with his fingers. He wasn’t holding onto himself anymore then. He slid them over my wet skin and gripped me lightly as he pressed the scratchy scrubby to the center of my back. He drew it back and forth, too lightly and quickly. I doubted he was getting any real suds.
“Harder,” I said.
His hand paused, then he pressed the scrubby more firmly and slowed his motion. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the feel of his fingers still resting on my shoulder, as if he were holding me in place. When the direction of the scrubby shifted and slowed even more, my entire body pitched into a roiling torrent of focus, shifting to the scrubby’s path. He drew it from the middle of my back to my side, and with excruciating slowness, ran it up over my ribs. He slipped it forward, following the curve of my body and now he was washing my front right side, just under the swell of my breast.
What he was doing could hardly be called washing, anymore. He inched the scrubby up ever so slowly, and I opened my eyes to look down and watch the progress of his soap frothed hand as he dragged the scrubby inexorably upwards. His other hand slipped down from my shoulder and settled on my left side, just under my ribs.
My entire body pulsed with the force of my rapid heartbeat. The scrubby stopped, just at the heavy curve of the bottom of my breast, and my son remained standing like that for what seemed an eternity. I couldn’t move, either, and it truly was agony, wanting to beg him to just touch me, please, cup my breast and feel my nipples and please, oh please….
His other hand crept forward, up my ribs, and he did. I couldn’t stifle the sound I made as his feather light touch caressed the underside of my breast before letting the weight of it rest in his palm. I hunched forward a little as I moaned, and his hand spasmed a little as his thumb brushed my nipple. He dropped the scrubby and brought his other hand up to cup my right breast and he pressed them with his hands, moving them in a slow circular motion, squeezing them. I moaned again and as he massaged my breasts from behind, I felt the tip of his penis gently poke my ass and he moaned too.
“Mom,” he cried out, and he pressed himself harder against me, his erection like a burning steel rod as he humped harder into the soft flesh of my ass cheek and it slipped down to poke at the underside. I couldn’t breathe, my mind inundated with nothing but the roaring desire to have it poke between my legs, along the crack. I shifted my hips and with his next insistent thrust forward he was there. I arched my back, rubbing my ass up and down and the sounds he was making were almost like quiet sobs. I turned suddenly and his hands fell to my waist. I closed the small distance between us so that the tip of his penis pressed into my belly and kissed my son fully on his mouth. He moaned into my mouth as I pressed his lips open with mine and slipped my tongue forward, finding his. He kissed me back with all the eagerness of a 15 year old boy as he continued to hump against my stomach with a mindless instinct.
“Mom,” he murmured against my mouth, his lips sliding over mine as he begged me. “Oh mom, please,” he said.
I moved my questing mouth down to his jaw, his neck, his chest. I lowered myself to my knees, kissing down his stomach and he made that soft sobbing sound again. I placed my hands on his hips and tilted my chin to look up at my beautiful boy, blinking through the spray of the shower. His penis was hard and hot along my neck and he was watching me, his face scored with an agony of pleasure. Still watching, wanting to see him react, I continued to kiss down along the dark, wet hair surrounding the base of his erection.
I couldn’t remember the last time I drew a full breath, I was panting shallowly between each kiss, my mouth flooded with saliva, and strangely I had tears stinging the backs of my eyes. I needed him with a need that could not be denied, and he needed me, too.
I turned my face and slipped my tongue out, curling it around the base of his shaft and a full body tremor ran through me. I pulled away and looked back up at him; he was staring down at me with his mouth slightly open. I moved my right hand in from his hip and closed it around him. I lovingly licked the tip of his penis, and his knees seemed to give out a little, his penis pulsing in my hand and against the back of my tongue. In my mind’s eye, I could see him sitting with my panties around his dick, touching himself and saying, “I love it when you lick me, mom,” and a groan issued forth from my parted lips and my eyes slid closed at the taste of his salt. His slick precome ran along the back of my tongue as I lapped at him slowly and he shuddered and whimpered above me.
I moved my lips over the half exposed head and drew him into my mouth, my heart hammering painfully, saliva spilling out around my tongue as I slid my lips further, my throat pulling him in with the negative pressure of suction as my tongue continued to explore the contours of my son’s penis. I could hear him gasping over the rushing sound of water and as I shifted on my knees I was made aware of how slick I was between my legs. I let his penis rest against the back of my throat for a long moment, breathing heavily through my nose, my eyes still closed, my tongue furling over and around him. Then I drew back and moved my hand with my mouth, revelling in him. I increased the suction in my mouth a little, flicking my tongue over his head with every draw back, not really focusing on him so much as the feel of him in my mouth.
I wasn’t thinking anymore, losing myself in the moment entirely. I don’t remember starting to touch myself, just that suddenly I was coming over my fingers as I wildly sucked and sucked, and when I cried out around his dick his cry followed a moment after.
“Oh God, mom, I’m…I’m going to…”
I enveloped him entirely in my mouth, licking the underside of his shaft with my tongue and clamping down on him to keep him there. Hot spurts of thick come hit the back of my throat and I sputtered a little before sucking harder and swallowing convulsively. He bucked, ramming my throat a little and I felt him grab ahold of my head, his fingers sliding over my wet hair as he sobbed out. His come frothed up a little; there was so much of it. I drank of my son deeply until his shuddering slowed and his fingers loosened. I drew back slowly, feeling drained and floaty. His penis exited my mouth with a slight “pop” and I sat back on my heels, licking my lips and extracting my hand from between my legs. I could feel my face buzzing with a flush born of extreme arousal and a sudden realization of what I had done, the taste of his semen coating my tongue and making me shiver.
I looked up and saw that he was shivering too, and a moment later I realized the water had run cold. I stood up and reached around him to turn off the water, wrapping an arm around him to lead him from the shower. I bent down to pick up the towel, shivering as well. He moved in a dazed way, and I draped the towel over his shoulders, drawing it up to ruffle dry his hair, our cool skin touching. I gathered the ends of the towel under his chin and held them closed as I finally looked into his eyes. He still seemed dazed, but gratitude shone from him, as well as a questioning embarrassment. I pulled him into a tight hug, and after a moment, his arms slipped around me and he buried his face in my neck.
We stood like that for a long few minutes, the sound of the dripping water and his ragged breathing. Eventually his shivering slowed, as well as his breath, and he pulled away a little.
He took the towel from his shoulders and clumsily tried to wrap it around me. My heart swelled to near bursting as he earnestly patted my arms and back dry. My sweet boy, oh, what….No. It didn’t matter. He loved me, I loved him. And now he knew that I, too, wanted him.
“We should get another towel,” I said. He nodded a little. “Do you want to….” I swallowed back a fear of disappointment. “Do you want me to let you go to your room?”
He shook his head, again looking a bit lost and questioning. “No,” he said.
I grabbed my hairbrush and lotion. “Come to mine,” I said.
He followed obediently, walking with the unthinking confidence of youth even in his nudity. He paused at my doorway.
“Sit on the bed,” I said, gesturing with my brush. I set down my items and toweled off completely as his dark eyes watched, following the movement of my hands and the towel. I began to tuck it in place around my breasts, then looked back at him over my shoulder.
Instead, I pulled it away and hung it on the hook on my door, the air conditioned air raising goosebumps along my arms. I went to the bed and sat down a couple feet away from him, as naked as my son, and began brushing my hair. My fingers felt nerveless, and a tense silence bloomed between us. I pressed my legs closed and barely managed to bite back my sigh as I remembered swallowing his come just moments before. My eyes fluttered closed a bit.
“Mom?” he asked, quietly.
I focused on him and smiled. “Yes, baby?”
“Are you….are you mad at me?”
Heat rushed to the surface of my skin and I fumbled over my words a little. “Oh, no, I’m not at all. I….I wanted to do that.”
He swallowed visibly. “You did?”
I nodded, and adopted a natural tone of conversational voice, though my belly trembled a little at the thought of needing to assuage my son that I wanted to fuck him, and desperately. I set down my brush and gooshed lotion onto my hand, rubbing it briskly onto my arms. “I’ve thought about it since I walked in on you a couple weeks ago.” He flushed a bit at this and sat forward a little. His eyes flicked to my breasts, swaying with the motion of my ministrations. I pretended not to notice. “I know it isn’t something that is….done, really, but I, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And now that it’s happened, I don’t regret it at all.” I paused. “Do you?”
He shook his head quickly, droplets of water spraying lightly onto my skin from the still wet ends of his hair. I smiled and reached out to touch him with my fingers, brushing along his shoulder down his arm. “I want to do it again.”
He let out his breath with a painful sigh that ended on a rising groan and put his hands in his lap, hunching further. My mouth flooded with saliva again as I stilled. So soon? God, he was young. Of course.
“You don’t need to hide yourself from me,” I said, grasping his arm and gently pulling his right hand away. He resisted a little then let his hands fall back. Yes, he was hardening again, rising inexorably from his lap, the skin seeming to stretch and tighten. I felt another gush of wetness between my legs and wriggled my hips a little. I licked my lips as I stared down at his lengthening erection, then shook myself. His penis seemed to jerk a little as I wetted my lips. I sought something to distract me, because now all I could think about was having my son’s penis pushing into the warmth that was spreading from my center. I reached for the lotion again.
“Can I…”
I glanced at him, and he was looking so uncertain. Yes, I wanted to say. Whatever you want, yes, please, my darling.
“Can I put your lotion on?”
Every nerve in my body seemed to flare and sing. My lips felt swollen and buzzing, the heat between my legs surged with another wet gush and I almost whimpered. I couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded and handed it to him.
“Where?” he asked.
“My, my legs,” I whispered. I felt a rush of shame that I hadn’t shaved in the last week, though my leg hair had always been light and soft.
My son slid down off the bed and knelt before me, pressing a palmful of lotion into his hands. He hesitated, then lightly grasped my ankle and smoothed the cool lotion up my shin, pressing it around my calf and back over my knee. I watched the progress of his hands with a suddenly dry mouth, my mind blank and pulsing, and I felt an ache for him so deeply that it was almost painful. As he raised up on his knees to rub the lotion into my thigh, I could see that he was fully hard again, his penis standing rod like before him. It brushed against my leg, just under my knee, and I convulsed a little, letting my legs fall open. His hands paused, then he slid one lotion slick hand down around my inner thigh and pressed himself against my leg, his gaze flicking up to mine with a sweet apology in his dark eyes. I spread my legs further and his fingers dug a little harder as he massaged his way along my thigh.
He paused again, just at the top of my thigh, where my leg joined at my center, my inner lips glistening with pulsing wetness. His mouth was open and he was breathing hard, staring down at my pussy, unconsciously pressing himself against my leg with tiny thrusts. I waited, unable to breathe, and when he remained too long like that, I shifted my hips forward so his fingers and knuckles brushed against my painfully sensitive folds. I moaned a little and he looked up at me again, his mouth still open. He watched my eyes as he let go of my thigh and lightly caressed me. I shuddered and cried out, arching my back. I felt his tentative fingers bolden and he slipped them between the deliciously slick and puffy folds, stroking me.
“Oh,” I moaned out.
He continued to slide his fingers through and around me, exploring. “Does that feel good, mom?” he whispered.
I opened my eyes and nodded, unable to speak. I opened my legs further as his roving fingers slipped along my center and he found my pulsing, grasping opening. I moaned and he pushed a finger inside slowly.
I gasped out his name and his mindless humping became more insistent, though now he was humping the side of the bed between my legs.
“Mom,” he said, sounding strangled as he pushed his finger slowly in and out of me and I tightened and released over my son’s probing finger. “Mom, can I…..” He was grinding himself against the bed now.
I reached out and grasped his shoulders, pulling him to me and wriggling forward on the bed, kissing him deeply and running my hands through his hair. “Yes,” I said against his eager mouth. “Yes.”
He pulled his hand from me and stood up, stumbling a little in his haste. I shifted back on the bed and pulled him onto it, covering his mouth again as he laid back beside me. I clambered over his thighs and pressed myself against his rock hard member, sliding my wet pussy along its length. His cries were muffled by my wide, devouring mouth, his breath hitting my throat with each desperate expulsion. I moved my hips up a little so that his hard head was pressed against my opening.
With a muted cry of my own I pushed down, slipping around the head of my son’s cock, pushing further until he was fully buried inside of me, and I came. I came so hard that I shuddered, shaking us both with my ecstatic embrace. I wrenched my mouth from his and dug my fingers into his shoulders, still coming, squeezing him tightly with my pussy, not even moving over him, just orgasming because he was in me, he was inside, and it felt so incredibly wrong, and immensely right to have my natural son once again within me.
My shuddering stilled and I realized his fingers were digging into my sides with grasping spasms and his head was thrown back, his throat exposed to me, his face twisted in a look of supremely agonized pleasure. I drew up along him and pressed back down and he sobbed out, “mom,” over and over.

Safe Recovery After Weight Loss Cure – Tips & Tricks

in Recovery by
www.forskolinslimoz.com

As bariatric operation gets to be extra commonplace as a solution to morbid weight problems, a study in Ghent, Belgium investigated the connection concerning shedding huge quantities of pounds and physical Exercise following the medical procedures. Within an endeavor to find out whether Actual physical Exercise increases pursuing medical procedures, Dr. Sanne Stegen and associates, hoped to find responses that might give links to breaking the cycle of weight problems.

The primary emphasis of this 2009 review was investigating the effects of structured training on Actual physical Conditioning next gastric bypass medical procedures. A different aim on the examine was to think about the feasibility of morbidly obese individuals taking part in a power and endurance application for the first four months following surgical procedures.

For morbidly obese patients who find aid of signs or symptoms plus a drive to be a lot more bodily match, surgical intervention does lead to large-scale weight-loss. Fat reduction decreases Body fat mass. Even so, thirty-35% of the full lbs misplaced in the course of the 1st 6 months after gastric bypass surgical procedure encompass fat-absolutely free mass. Additionally, the lack of protein absorption because of the character with the procedure may possibly attribute to less muscle toughness. Could an workout regiment stop lack of muscle power or perhaps help patients get extra power?

How was the research developed?

The examine consisted of two groups. Just one team adopted exercising coaching starting 4 months just after medical procedures, when the opposite group experienced no exercising mandate. Nineteen people met the criteria to hitch the research. Each person was allowed to be both during the training group (organized on-likely physical exercise software) or from the Manage group (surgical intervention only). Each individual group of sufferers underwent a battery of exams and measurements prior to surgical procedures. The measurements were taken all through the recovery process and on the conclusion of the four month study when tests were finished.

What was involved in the exercising system?

The people in the exercising group benefited from assistance by Grasp of Motion and Rehabilitation Sciences. The instruction classes ended up independently supervised thrice weekly as a result of 36 classes. 10 minutes of cardio warm-ups, 25 minutes of power coaching and half-hour of endurance coaching was accomplished in Each individual work out. That has a ten moment interesting down included in, some time for every work out was 75 minutes.

What were being the outcome?

Subsequent 36 weeks following the operation both equally groups had similar fat reduction, BMI and waist measurements. Weight lost by these patients consisted of lbs . shed in Fats mass and fat-absolutely free mass also. Lack of kilos of muscle mass mass in all bariatric bypass sufferers resulted Total to reduced dynamic muscle strength in some spots. Which means that all sufferers grew to become weaker.

Nonetheless, although work out schooling couldn’t fully protect against a reduce in fat-free of charge muscle mass mass, the power deficit of the instruction group was a lot less extraordinary. Even with Fats-totally free muscle mass decline, the education team confirmed dynamic toughness improvements. The take pleasure in schooling also proved that Excess fat-free of charge mass might be preserved. A optimistic indicator in weight reduction because of surgical intervention demonstrates fewer Unwanted fat-free mass misplaced with the surgical course of action than Excess fat-cost-free mass shed by a very small calorie diet.

Dynamic muscle mass strength

The untrained individuals expert reduced dynamic muscle mass energy. Quadricep energy lowered by sixteen%; biceps had been 36% much less powerful while triceps toughness reduced by 39%. Having a look with the instruction team showed distinctive final results. Curiously, the physical exercise program retained biceps power from dropping. Triceps and quads basically amplified in dynamic muscle mass toughness. In addition, hamstrings elevated energy by 27%.

Static muscle mass energy

Both teams dropped energy in static muscles, which was calculated as handgrip strength. Four months following surgical treatment the trained group dropped 7% whilst the untrained group shed greater than double that amount, using an 18% reduction.

Practical capability

Both of those affected person group numbers were analyzed on their capacity to complete everyday tasks. Statistics in purpose ability previous to operation and 4 months just after surgical treatment were being measured. Actions for example sit-to-stand as well as a six-moment walking length were accessed. Both equally teams enhanced walking distance, but just the experienced team elevated figures inside their power to rise to a complete stand from the seated position in 30 seconds.

Precisely what is the sensible software of those success?

The target of acquiring inbound links in between post-operative weightloss and physical Conditioning was answered in the study. When morbidly obese patients experience substantial-scale weight-loss as a result of surgical intervention there are many Gains. Even so, none of them is Bodily fitness. Getting rid of big amounts of fat would not equal Actual physical Exercise. Actually, lack of overall body mass will contain Extra fat and Fats-no cost mass creating a adverse impact on muscle mass toughness.

The results display that an exercise-education program over a postoperative affected individual team prevents muscle mass loss. When morbidly obese individuals missing significant amounts of excess weight and afterwards added an structured perform-out routine into the Restoration course of action, they did see enhancement in Bodily Exercise. The study indicated that adding an workout application could quit the reduce of energy in many muscles. In addition, some clients had been capable to really boost energy in a few muscle groups.

Determined by the results analyze, an endurance and resistance education method need to be inspired over the four months adhering to surgical intervention. Dr. Stegen concludes that for morbidly obese patients, shedding significant amounts of body weight will not enhance Bodily Exercise. But, for people who engage in exercise teaching, it is achievable to be more bodily fit.

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