("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- Copyright © 2004 Caesar, all rights reserved. This story may be archived / reposted to FREE adult access provided this notice is included in the message text. This is a fictional account and not intended to resemble any persons, living or dead. -------------------------------------------------------- Just Your Typical Japanese Family by Caesar (2007) *** Nick recalls his life growing up and how his desire to be more Western only made his life that much more Japanese. (F/m-teen, reluc, inc, cheat, asian) *** There once was a Duchess of Beever Who slept with her golden retriever. Said the potted old Duke: "Such tricks make me puke! Were it not for her money, I'd leave her." $Revision: 1.4 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $ I have been asked by friends on line to put down my story so that anyone can read it. My name is Nick. I am of Japanese descent and I came from, what I think of as, a typical family. My father was transferred here just before I entered high school - so I have been exposed to both worlds. As a young boy, my friends and I used to think of girls in the West as being very liberal and so we desired the pale skinned blonds from the television and magazines. After moving away from our ancestral home, I discovered that contrary to the media, the West is very conservative - much more so than in Japan. For example, incest is taboo in the West while you will find the reverse is true in Japan. I grew up in a household that was traditional - in the sense that the women in the family are inferior to the men. This is not particular about my family only but common in most households my parent's age or older. In a Japanese family the head of the family is the father, and then the sons, in descending order. The mother or her daughters have little to no say about how the house is run. So if the head of the family looks outside his marriage for sexual release, his wife can not utter a word, but to accept her life and the decisions her husband makes. Her shame to satisfy and interest her husband is immaterial. She is the woman and she does not matter, this is not bias, this is just fact. Our society is based on male dominance. Oh sure many of the younger female generation in Japan is trying to change this - but they have long years of tradition to fight. I only believe this will truly change after the older generation dies off - until then, many of the Japanese households are still traditional in their beliefs. My home was no different. Even after moving to the West - at home we spoke Japanese and we lived as when I was growing up. An early memory was of my father taking mother into their bedroom and hearing mother making strange noises in the next room through the paper walls that separated us. I heard things that stayed with me until now - telling mother to do things, sexual things that I didn't understand at the time but realized they excited me for some reason. As I grew older these sounds stopped coming from my parents room and dad would stay out until late in the evenings. Nothing was said but I felt mother was shamed in some way. Not until we transferred to this country did I learn that father had a mistress - only a few years older than I - that he paid for her move at the same time we did. Dad sat with her on the plane - mother acting as if nothing was wrong, and indeed, giving me more attention than I would have liked at the time. I never realized that I was senior to my own mother in our home until I saw her in just her underwear one day. It was the turning point in our relationship. No nothing happened between us - just that I strode from my room just as mother was leaving the shared bathroom on the top floor - she had her own room separate from fathers - when we both just stopped surprised at the sudden appearance of the other. My eyes drifted down uncontrollably and I saw the hint of darkness where her nipples lay beneath her bra and her pussy beneath her white cotton panty. I must have glared long enough for mother's cheeks to turn red and she whispered, "Excuse me son." I watched her walk down the hall to her room, her ass moving voluptuously, with a nervous over the shoulder glance in my direction. -*- Up until that day mother was not even considered a woman in my eyes if you understand? I never looked at her like I looked at girls my own age - she was just, you know, my mother. But that incident convinced me that mother had these gorgeous curves that many of my peers were lacking. That she was beneath me within the peaking order of our home, did not hit me until late that same night. Instead of the blond big breasted girl in my class, I thought of my own mother as I stroked myself. As I did that act my fantasies conjured up some wild images that easily helped me to ejaculate. It was after, catching my breath, that I realized mom was a woman. One that dad seemed to enjoy ignoring - so her destiny could fall upon my guiding shoulders. Thinking back, it was a very strange feeling - realizing mother had to do what I told her. And as long as dad did not find out, or object, more because it would embarrass him and cause him to loose face, I could do whatever I wished. Don't think I lost all interest in blond haired white girls - on the contrary, this was more of a convenient and obtainable outlet for my growing sexual frustration at that time in my life. It felt like I was never going to loose my virginity back then, especially to a blond haired white girl. So I strode into the bathroom as mother showered one day - she was just stepping out of the tub when she froze looking at me - then her eyes looked for a towel and found only the one in my hand. She stood naked and dripping outside the tub, with her hands trying unsuccessfully to cover her abundant curves and female secrets. I was in heaven - the first woman I had ever seen naked. The wide nipples, the oh so smooth flesh of her heavy breasts, the way her waist tapered and then flared out to her hips, the silky darkness of her pubic hair - she was perfect in my eyes. Only when I reached her face, and I am a little ashamed that I had started from the bottom and worked my way up, did I see her tears, her fear and her humiliation. She could do nothing and we both knew it. Father did not want her and we both knew it. I dropped the towel onto the floor and turned to leave - feeling like a jerk, that I had discredited the family honour. When supper came around and we sat to eat, nothing was said, she acted towards me as she always had. This calmed my self-loathing more than a little. Strangely I never feared that she would tell father about my indiscretion in the bathroom - she could not embarrass him that way. When darkness came, mother's naked flesh was in my fantasies as I stroked myself before sleep. -*- The next day, with dad gone, she seemed nervous near me - as if forcing her normalcy within our relationship was impossible when alone. Was she scared of me now? Why? As crazy as this sounds, the way my mother was acting towards me was turning me on. I have a hard time realizing why this is but guess that it is based upon feeling like a man for the first time in my life. I felt like I could grunt at her to come into my room and I would give her a command like dad used to do back when we lived in Japan when I was younger. "Take me into your mouth...", "... on your knees woman...", "...move that ass faster..." She would do it - that was the realization in my head - that I could do it with her at any time. These thoughts scared me. Rather than take her up to my room and loose myself in her submissiveness, I rushed from the house to meet my friends. That was the night I stole a still-warm panty from her dirty laundry and used it to masturbate too before bed. The thing was, the next day when I got home after school and found it was missing from where I had left it on the floor by my bed. I did a search and found it folded in the clean clothing on top of the drier - mother never said a word. -*- I am not sure how long it was that mother and I lived our awkwardness whenever near the other - but I could not help but look upon her as a willing concubine and she looked upon me as if she was the deer living with a hungry lion. The next direct act by me may seem rather tame to you, but to a virgin teenager with a never- ending libido, it was a passionate encounter. Dad sat on the couch laughing at some television show while mother sat next to him knitting, smiling politely but probably paying the show no attention. I had been sitting on the floor before the couch, my back against it, when mother sat down to be with dad and I. The couch itself was another act by dad that we should life like Westerners did - we even sat in chairs at a table for our meals. I immediately realized how close we were, her knees and calves nearly couching my upper arm and shoulder. Trying to keep my head faced forwards, in case dad should look down, I strained my eyes to see that mother's legs were bare of her normal nylons. Since that day I had caught her in her underwear and only reinforced by witnessing her nudity, mother's legs were beautiful - strong, smooth and curvy. Wearing skirts and never slacks at any time, her lower legs were always visible. I have noticed how they bunched up when she stretched upon her toes, or how they reshaped when she squatted - I have noticed so much about her those last weeks. The act was not proceeded by a conscious thought, I just stretched out my hand and laid it with my paw grasping her thick calf. I heard her knitting needles become silent - but dad broke out laughing at another joke on the television and I realized how brazen I was doing this. That didn't cause me to retreat, instead I became aggressive in my mauling - feeling one calf and then the other, moving from just the back of her knee to her ankles. Her flesh was smooth but firm, she tensing at my touch, and it was so warm. It is hard to imagine, now years later, just how erotic it was to touch the smooth soft warm flesh of a woman's calf. How innocent was I? Or perhaps I was simply less demanding in my pleasures back then. The television program was over way too quickly though I must have pawed my mother's legs for several minutes at least, when father sat up to shut off the television. I realized too late that he could see me groping his wife, my mother, as he moved to stand up - when mother's half finished knitted sweater dropped suddenly over her legs, effectively hiding my sin from her husband's eyes. -*- Less than twenty minutes later I stood before the mirror of the bathroom brushing my teeth when mom slipped in the door soundlessly. She looked furious, "How dare you?" she hissed. I rinsed and spit, saw that her humiliation was hidden behind her anger - at least for now. "Do you want to hurt your father - is that it?" This line of thought had never entered my mind - purposely touching my mom to get at my father. How atrocious. I did not have time to conjure up a reason why mother may have thought this when I heard dad's footsteps approach from down the hallway. Mother and I froze. "Are you there?" His voice always so deep and commanding - so unlike men from the West. Mother looked horrified that he may know she was there in the bathroom with me. Of course nothing was going on but it was certainly inappropriate. "I am just getting ready for bed." And the oddest thing happened at that moment in time - I noticed how her fear caused her chest to heave, her breasts raising and falling so expressively. So with trembling hands I reached out and before mother realized what I was doing, grasped both her meaty breasts in my big paws. Her eyes shot to me in horror and shock but otherwise did not move. But I did not care, I held the first female breasts in my life and they were glorious. Mother swayed as if she were going to faint and could not look at me after that single emotion-filled gaze. "Have you ironed my white shirts?" Mother swallowed thickly, my hands moving aggressively all over her chest. "Yes, but they are still hanging up in the laundry room." Her voice failed her at that point with a small squeak that I knew dad could not have heard. Tears were rolling down her eyes now. Father sighed to great effect, "I shall move them to my room as I will need one tomorrow morning." We heard his footsteps recede down the hallways. Mother just stood there for another minute, head hung low, as her son mauled her bosoms. I was in heaven. And then it was over and for the life of me, I could not tell you if she or I had broke apart first. But I blinked and I saw her rush from the bathroom leaving me alone with my thoughts, looking down at my hands imagining how those soft flesh globes felt. -*- After that encounter with mother, if there had been any doubt or guilt on my part, it had disintegrated with the touch of my firsts breasts. You should realize that I spent long hours fantasizing about blond haired girls with big pale fleshy bosoms - so unlike the girls I had known in Japan. I had become a boob man since arriving in the West. Mom's were larger than the average Japanese girl my age, but she had extra meat that just seemed to acute her curves. Just the next day I strode up behind her as she dried the dishes in the sink to wrap my arms about her torso, each of my hands filled with tit flesh. She froze and hissed but otherwise did not move. What else could she do - dad was not here and I was the man of the house? When I started to fumble with the buttons on the front of her dress she finally started to resist, whimpering 'no' as her hands fought with my own. I ignored her, simply focusing on those big meaty breasts. Her dress was pulled to either side of her chest and I yanked and tore at her underwear to release those fleshy globes, possibly hurting her in the process, and then I had my hands full of soft warm inviting flesh. Mother stopped fighting me at that point and sobbed as I enjoyed a pregnant moment alone with her chest. While this had been going on I was rhythmically shoving the hardness in my pants into the soft crack of her ass, pressing her hips against the edge of the counter. So innocent in the ways of women was I back then, that I never recognized how mother's sobs had turned to deep laboured breathing, how her buttocks pressed back into my groin or how her nipples hardened almost to diamond- like points. No, when the moment became almost too much for me to bear, I pulled myself away from my mother and rushed up to my room and flung myself into my bed. I orgasmed in seconds, panting while smiling at the power I had over my own mother. -*- Mother, I should explain, was a typical middle-aged Japanese woman of the time. She was short with a round and cute face. As she had aged she had gained weight, much of it going into her breasts and ass - so that both caused her to have this exaggerated curved figure. She had tiny ankles and feet, wide strong calves from being on her feet so much and shoulder length straight black hair that she wore tucked behind her ears. She was as far from the blond-haired girls of my fantasies as I could get. But that just did not seem to matter to my lust. So just one of my school days not long after the kitchen incident, it was particularly difficult as I had continually been assaulted by beautiful blond haired girls in my school. They seemed to be constantly around me - one even talking to me. I walked around half the day with a hard penis behind my school bag. I was practically in a trance as I finally strode through the door to our home and found mother standing surprised with an arm full of clothing. "Is father home?" Her head nervously replied in the negative. My school bag dropped and I rushed as if half-insane. The clean clothing fell to the floor and I wrapped my arms about my short cute curvy mom, my lips attacking her neck and cheek and jaw even as I humped my painfully hard penis into her soft stomach. She did not resist but I felt her move her face so that we were facing and then our lips touched, opened and I tasted her kisses. It just made me hotter so that I was whimpering as if in pain. Hands fumbled between us, with my belt and zipper. Was it my own? My whole consciousness focused on my penis as that strong tiny hand wrapped around my hardness and held it. Mother slipped her tongue into my mouth and kissed me passionately as her hand began to move slowly up and down. I was putty in her hands, no longer the ravaging animal but the whimpering child. It took literally seconds for me to start pumping my seed upon my mothers hip and thighs, soiling her flower patterned dress, her nylons. I came in copious amounts which left me panting with exhaustion. Then it was over and I stepped back to look at my mother - something had changed in her, she did not look horrified at my touch, at the sperm dripping from her clothing. "Go up to your room and leave me to tidy up?" It wasn't an order but I could see that she will need to change her clothing, refold the laundry strewn over the floor and do at least another load of wash. I remember nodding dumbly and moving up to my room after retrieving my bag - her eyes following me the whole time. Only after I changed my own pants, which had a few marks of evidence of my earlier ejaculation, did I realize that I had just gotten my first hand job. -*- A Japanese lady is often a quiet polite woman that always defers to the man of the house. It practically trains the men in her life to become more dominant, controlled. When I listened to my parents have sex when I was younger, listening to dad order his wife to pleasure him - it was the natural role in their marriage. With his abandonment of their marriage bed for another, humiliating his polite and silent wife, did that her possibilities of a lover, the next male in the house - me? I had to be careful of course - dad could never discover what I did with his wife else he would loose face. He was the head of our family and I deferred to him as much as my own mother did. The opportunities to be alone for any amount of time in our home was not as frequent as I would have liked. I had to wait until Saturday until my father went golfing that I knew I had hours with mother. Finding her dressing to go out, she explained that she was going shopping for new clothing. I was disappointed and told her I wanted her to stay home. She looked sheepishly at me and then took her jacket off. My heart began to thump faster at that moment. I took her into the living room and sat beside her. We began kissing passionately, saliva soon dripping from our chins as our tongues duelled. Mother whimpered as I mauled her beautiful breasts. Her hands again had withdrawn my penis, stroking me steadily as we necked. One of my hands landed on her nylon covered thigh, slipping up beneath the hem of her skirt. Mother spread her knees without any direction, my hand cupping her covered crotch - finding it warm thought the two layers of undergarments as well as decidedly moist. She was soon humping into my hand as I stroked that part of her, my own cock speeding up in her aggressive fisting. I let out a loud bear growl as my seed pumped from my cock, splatting and dribbling down her fist, onto her arm and onto my tee-shirt covered stomach. We both fell back onto the couch, her thighs still spread with her skirt to her navel, me with my half hard penis hanging from my jeans. We both appraised the other, her eyes devouring my drooling prick. When mother started to close her legs, to retreat from the couch, I stopped her with a wave of my hand. She looked surprised but not hurt by my silent command. Leaning over I slowly unbuttoned her flowered patterned dress, from neck to naval, spreading it wide to expose her lace white bra. For the life of me I could not see how to remove this undergarment and instead hefted out her soft pliable flesh so that they hung above the bra high up on her chest. The pale flesh, for a Japanese person, was capped with a dark brown wide nipple - wrinkled to a point. I took one nipple into my mouth while twisting the other between thumb and forefinger. Mother gasped in surprise and perhaps delight, one hand stroking the back of my head as I ate from her flesh. For long minutes did I suck from her teats, as if hungry for the milk I had received as a baby. She was mewing in pleasure, clenching her thighs together while wiggling her ass beneath me. Looking up from her chest, I could see my mothers round mature face clenched tight, her mouth open as she gasped with pleasure of my touch. It was an empowering moment. As I had sucked upon her flesh, I had been humping my renewed hardness into her nylon covered thigh. The intensity of my second explosion left me dizzy and almost without strength in my limbs. I pumped my seed all over her thighs while distantly realizing mother was thrashing beneath me while making some pretty intense noises of her own. We lay intertwined for a good long while before she stood to leave. I followed and she smiled over her shoulder as I followed her to her small room, smaller even than my own. I sat on the edge of her bed and watched her strip down her wrinkled soiled clothing to her plain white cotton panty. I saw with pleasure that the front gusset of the panty was dark with wetness and only then did I realize the new smell coming from her body. I could have fucked my mother right there and then - she would never have denied me. Instead, seeing her son's penis again hard and lewdly thrusting from her open soiled jeans, she knelt before me submissively. I enjoyed the seconds in this position before her hands rose and both enclosed my penis yet again. I watched her work at my hardness, patiently stroking me up and down - her big bare breasts swaying hypnotically side to side. It was when she leaned in closer to rubbed her hard nipples and soft breast flesh over my hard drooling cock did I really get into it - my passion rising like the mercury thermometer. So that in another moment I was panting, watching as if delirious with a temperature as my seed pumped for the last time that day over the delicious flesh of her breasts. Mother knelt there smiling at me softly as I was finally sexually sated for the day. -*- Back then there was no email and the way we communicated from afar was through hand written letters. Leaving Japan I had left several friends - and had exchanged letters with all of these for a long while until only one friend lasted the extended separation. We spoke about what teenagers talk about - usually girls. Months before my friend, Saito, had noticeably stopped discussing girls - wanting to hear about all those strange and wonderful things that he can not experience back in Japan. My comments about blond girls with big boobs went unchallenged, no comments forthcoming. Only after seeing my mother come from the bathroom naked did I notice this admission on his part. I wrote a long letter about my confusion, about my strange attraction to my parent, about my parents separated and cold relationship - it was confusing and disjointed. I did not want to look like a pathetic fool but I needed someone to discuss this strange occurrence in my life. So after that eventful Saturday I received Saito's return letter and read it with surprise and exhilaration. Almost as if it was a normal occurrence, and years later did I realize that it may just be, he explained that he and his mother have been lovers for several months. It was kept from his father, of course, but as long as he concentrated on his studies and not date other girls, his mother would be available for him. He also said that given my parents relationship that he was surprised I had not moved into this role with her yet. At that age, I reacted stupidly to this comment and resolved that my next reply would include a more correct response. -*- Being the good company man that he was, father attended numerous functions. Infrequently this included mother - normally to his peers or superiors dinner parties. At one such, less than a week from our intense Saturday encounter and after I had received Saito's response, I went into mother's bedroom after I heard father go out to the garage to get the car ready for their short trip. Mother looked up in surprise at my unannounced entrance and started to look worried until I explained where father was. We would be able to hear him enter the house if he returned and had little fear of being caught together. I sat on the edge of her bed that I had sat on when mother had used her hands to pump my seed all over her pale breasts the other day. I watched as she sat at her cosmetic table applying the final touches to her makeup. Her eyes nervously looking at me in the reflection. She looked very nice, in a dark dress with black sheer nylons and black heels. She never wore makeup around the house and I was pleased to see that she used it conservatively now. When she finally laid the odd looking instrument back to the top of her table, I knew she was ready to follow father out to the car. "Come to me tonight mother." She turned in her chair and looked at me sharply for a good couple seconds. "Your father?" "After he is asleep." We looked into each others eyes and I knew she understood what I wanted. -*- The moon was full and allowed enough light into my room to make everything glow with an odd gray effect. Mother's white bathrobe slipped soundlessly into my room and she froze at the end of my bed looking down at me. She was breathing heavily, almost panting and I wondered if her nipples were hard yet. The robe fell without any forewarning and mother stood wearing only white cotton panties - the rest of her flesh glowing eerily in the moonlight. My blanket was thrown to the side and mother gasped to see me already naked, already hard. As if in a dream she stepped around to the edge of the bed and looked down at her son. My hand slipped up and stroked the outside of her panty, finding it hot and already saturated with her excitement. Mother hooked her thumbs into her panties and slipped them down her curves to step out of them. I indicated with a hand that she should pass her panty to me, and almost embarrassed she did, standing watching as her son put the soiled garment to his nose and inhaled deeply. Again that distinctive scent I had smelt in her room the weekend before, but much more potent. Like a dream things quickly altered, so that mother climbed over her son to straddle his thin hips with her knees, she held my hard cock straight up and positioned herself above. I felt the hot wet kiss of her sex before she descended and life would never be the same. Mother moved with long slow movements of her hips, fucking herself slowly upon my hard cock. Her fat beautiful breasts hanging and swaying above me so that I watched them hypnotically. My hands had reached around and grasped her full soft round ass. I was experiencing and thrilled all at the same time. Surprised at how intense the feeling of her sex wrapped about my cock was - how strong the inner muscles seemed to clench me possessively, deliciously. Mother was making these small whimpering noises as if she were hurt, her eyes clenched tightly, her body quickly breaking out in a sweat, her muscles already trembling uncontrollably. She suddenly collapsed onto my chest and locked her lips to my own as she let out a muffled scream as her cunt muscles danced upon my instrument. Her body jerked and I was too stunned and pleased at the realization that my mother had orgasmed while fucking me that I did not take my own selfish pleasure at that time. My mother rolled like a rag doll off me and lay there, panting and catching her breath. Her dark eyes open and starring at me almost in awe. Eventually her hand slipped down to find me hard and smile spreading on her lips at the treasure found. Mother moved with more energy than I would have expected, climbing onto her knees and elbows, her face into the pillow with her ass high. A second's confusion as I lay on my side as she waited patiently. Realization came to me as if a light turned on in my head and I climbed up behind her. Even in that dim gray light I could see everything at an angle never before appreciated. The asterisk of her anus, the mysterious folds of her sex spread out like a flower moving as if panting or throbbing. Though my cock was almost painfully hard, I took my time and touched all that I could see - treasuring the sight for all time. Not just her vagina but even the long strong lines of her back, the curves of her soft hips and waist. From that moment forwards, this would be my favourite position with any woman I would be with - silently comparing it to this first time, to my own mother. My cock fumbled for an entrance and I felt my face flush in shame that I could not find it. Mother had not moved to help so I used my fingers again, allowing them to slip into the hot dripping wet groove of her sex until they were engulfed in her body. She moved with pleasure at the intrusion, pushing her hips back as I started to fuck her with my fingers. Next attempt, my cock had better luck - slipping deeply where my fingers had been. Mother stuffed a pillow into her mouth and scream with pleasure as I seated within her for the first time in this position. It was the most natural of acts to grasp her soft hips and start to move my hips back and forth - my pale cock moving dominantly in and out of the willing wet cunt before it. Soon her whole body was rocking back and forth, our sexual organs slamming together loudly, with delicious juicy sounds. Her body was glistening in the gray light, sweat pooling on the low points upon her strong back - dripping down to her shoulders or rolling past her meaty breasts to the top of my messy bed. Then I clenched my jaws tight and growled like an animal, shoving myself as deep as I could into my parents body as my cock jerked and spit its seed into my mothers body. It was my turn to collapse, mother falling to her side with me so that we lay spooned as if made for the other. I soon fell asleep, images of mother's naked body in my head. -*- My parent changed after that eventual night together. I had awoken alone but with the memory. I found her soiled panty forgotten beside my bed and I held it to my face with pleasure. Later, father sat at the table eating his breakfast and reading his paper as normal, mother placing my own meal before me as I sat. Nothing was different - at least, until father eventually left the house. Mother rushed into my arms, seated upon my lap, kissing me passionately. When we broke for air, she looked different and it took me until I was at school to realize that it was the smile she gave me - a happy unrestrained smile that I had never seen before. Mother rarely showed an extravagance of emotion, let alone joy - but that was what she showed me then. I had made my mother happy - it was a strange but pleasant side affect to my actions, one that I did not regret in the least. Naturally my hand grasped a covered breast and her smile only widened. I nodded towards the table and she immediately understood and slipped from my lap. I watched as my mother happily reached beneath her skirt to push her plain cotton white panty down her long legs, stepping out and leaving the garment forgotten the on the floor. Mother faced the table and pushed the soiled plates away before bending over upon it. I studied my mother bent over before me for a half minute before reaching over to flip up the edge of her skirt to her waist. Mother was bare beneath her skirt, having not worn nylons and having removed her panty, and I could see that her sex was already looking moist. She was breathing heavy as my eyes drunk in this vision, my hands spreading the cheeks of her ass, her upper thighs to get a more intimate look. My thumbs spread the meaty hairy outer lips of her vagina, spreading her inner lips so that I was shown pink glistening flower. She gasped when the finger sunk into her sex, pressing the side of her face against our dinner table - unconsciously accepting any act I wished to do with her. Mother was soon panting and clenching her internal cunt muscles as my finger frigged her aggressively. When I thought her ready, I withdrew it and brought the dripping digit to my face. I smelt that distinctive scent, I tasted it for the first time - ignoring the whimpers and wiggles of my anxious parent. The finger returned and mother mewed with pleasure until she felt it attempt entrance to her anus. It was surprisingly resistant to my invasion and I stopped trying to push into her and instead just applied firm pressure until it eventually sunk into her to the second knuckle. I was surprised to look up to find mother looking over her shoulder, her eyes wild and glassy, surprised but nervous and very excited. For some reason this embarrassed me and my hands withdrew as I stood up. Her face fell back to the table and she sighed in pleasure as she wiggled her ass. My hard cock had little difficulty finding the correct entrance this time - sinking into her ready body without a pause. What else was different from the night before was the sounds mother made, she did not attempt to muffle her excitement - and her whimpers of pleasure echoed through our house as I moved aggressively in and out of her body. I fucked in this position for a good long while, watching and touching everything I could reach. Amused that mother was drooling from her open mouth so that it pooled on the table beneath her. My thumb had returned to her anus and as it moved in and out of her second entrance, I enjoyed the more animal-like response I received from her when doing so. I was able to witness my own mother's orgasm and understand it for what it was. She was a lonely, typical Japanese housewife - ignored sexually - she was putty for my attentions. I returned to my seat and snapped my fingers and pointed. With pregnant movements, mother slipped from the table and knelt between my thighs and then took the head of my penis into her mouth. Surprise filled my already heightened senses - another equally exquisite pleasure had been discovered. Mother's head moved steadily up and down until it left me gasping for breath and tensing the seconds before I began to pump my load into her willing mouth. Loudly I heard her swallow my load and forever after I would love this intimacy between us. She lifted her face from my shrinking penis, saliva and sperm upon her lips and chin - she looked at me almost embarrassed but she looked pleased never the less. I patted the top of her head as if she were a pet that had just pleased me - she beamed in pride and mewed in response. -*- Let me skip ahead nearly two decades. My wife was my height, taller in heels that I enjoyed her in, naturally blond haired and had filled out since our marriage to a voluptuous soft curvy woman. The three kids that came along filled her life for the early years of our marriage - she working part time more recently. I loved her, I loved my family. But I still fucked my mother as often as I could. It wasn't infatuation, it wasn't obsession of any kind. I loved my mother but I also loved to dominate her, to be the man in her bed. Through all those years together, she had never denied me anything. She would do any act for me, seemingly enjoying and happy at any attention I gave her. She and dad had not had sex since before she had taken my virginity that magical night. She was the typical Japanese housewife, expected to be there for her husband even though he ignored her in nearly all ways. Now, much older, he was around more often, having retired, and he still expected mother to serve him hand and foot. But they never shared a bed - I asked my embarrassed and naturally humiliated mother, and she admitted her shame that her husband did not find her desirable. Perhaps it allowed me to have an unrestrained relationship with her and I should be thankful - but I had always wondered. My own wife, I should add, even fuller figure and older of face, was still attractive to me. I fucked her as frequently as we could - determined to give her the attention that my mother never received. So we had a good healthy sex life, even for a couple with grown kids. My wife never knew about mother and I and I never hinted at any other relationship than what she saw. She stepped naturally into the mixed roll of a white woman married to a Japanese man. I was in charge, there was no doubt about that - but, I guess, since there was nothing she wanted, that our relationship was accepted. My kids were great - two girls and the boy, he being in the middle for age. I gave all three the attention I never received growing up with my parent. Never denying them the emotional contact of a father - being there for any need that I may help. My eldest daughter moved away to college - a tall blond beauty with a hint of Asian, she was the most beautiful thing in my life. My boy was a handful, just finishing high school and filled with energy and intelligence - he was left wanting for nothing. Then my youngest daughter, my princess, she was the spoilt one - dark of hair and eyes but with the pale skin and figure of her younger mother. My mother was over frequently - being the babysitter and voice of wisdom in the early years, to being a friend to my wife in the later ones. She was the perfect grandparent and my kids loved her - my wife was thankful for the traditional closeness of my family. This also opened up opportunities for secret encounters with my mother, moments stolen from busy days - she seeming to need the intimacy as much as I. Life to this point was blissful - perfect and the life that I could have picked out as that bumbling Japanese teenager forced to integrate into the foreign Western society that I found myself in. The wife of my dreams, the perfect kids and my own mother as an outlet for my bold Japanese dominance. Then it was shattered. Returning into the house from the still running car, I had forgotten the envelop with the report I had to meet about. I found my wife and son kissing passionately in the kitchen, both his hands grasping her full meaty ass outside her denim shorts, their tongues exposed as they kissed. I slipped backwards, out of the house to my car - horrified and numb - the envelope and meeting forgotten. I locked myself in my office and hung my head in my hands, shocked beyond belief at what I had seen. How could this happen? Why did it happen? I had given my wife the attention that my father never gave my mother. Back in the beginning my mother was starved for any attention, her body on fire at any touch - so much so that her humiliation at her son using her was so easily forgotten. My wife could not compare this with her life - I never sought young willing girls outside my marriage, I never slept in another room. And I dare say, with the practise gained from being my mother's secret lover, I was an accomplished husband in our marriage bed. My son and my wife - lovers! I could still remember the fire in my veins at the realization of dominating my mother - of having a willing female for my passionate teenage desires. I sensed that heat within the vision I had seen - my son undergoing a similar path as I had taken. But why had it started - where else had there been a similar comparison? My wife was not even Japanese! She was pale skinned and blond - the woman of my teenage dreams. She did not grow up in a household as restrictive and as structured as I did. Oh sure she had found that our marriage became this way by natural means - but she was silent and accepted it without a word. I thought our lives were perfect. The day was lost in misery but I had regained something as my anger rose. -*- Two nights later my wife slipped silently from my bed when she thought me asleep. I waited and then went down the stairs to where my son's room was, knowing already where to find her. The muffled noises within came as no surprise - I could hear her whimpers, the sloppy slapping of sex, a single groan of desire from him. I opened the door to find my blond wife on her knees, a mouth full of pillow, my son kneeling behind her with hands filled with her soft fleshy hips as he drove himself in and out of his mother's body. They were both naked and sweaty - all three of us froze, horror filling my wife's face, fear in my son. They broke apart and I saw the hard penis of my son dripping with juices of his mother as my son hid his nudity behind his blanket. My wife rushed to me sobbing and crying with despair, begging me for forgiveness. My hand shot out and down without a thought and I struck her hard across the side of the face so that she was thrown to the floor at my feet. My son stood very still, on the other side of the bed. "Get to my bed woman!" Sobbing and whimpering in pain, my wife crawled quickly to the door and rushed to her feet to run into the darkness - her voluptuous body bouncing naturally and wildly. I pointed at my seventeen year old son, "You, I will talk too later." I returned to my marriage bed where I tore the newly worn nightgown from her body, throwing her onto her stomach. I raped my wife for the first time - sodomizing her violently so that there would be blood on our sheets the next day and she would stay in bed for half a week afterwards. It was not the first time I had entered her anally, but the first that I did not prepare the act with love and gentle attention first. No - I used her, needing to reminding her who the man was. Only after, as I lay panting, she sobbing next to me, did I realize that I had lost face by my discovery of her and my son rather than letting it go and ignoring it. Still not sated in my anger, I retrieved a belt and struck the back of her thighs and ass again and again until I fell asleep in exhaustion in the chair facing my abused sobbing wife. Our relationship changed forever after that night. I did not fail to remind her who was the man of our house - who was the head of our family. My son was forbidden to be near his mother alone and I carefully watched them to ensure this directive was followed. My wife I used nightly - fucking to punish and not for pleasure. I wanted to humiliate her as she had done me - but I was only left feeling angry and hollowed of emotion. It was, oddly, my mother who I confessed too - sobbing as she held my head tenderly as I revealed it all to her. Then she told me something that took me completely by surprise - telling me father had known about us nearly from the beginning. I was shocked, horrified that it was known that I was my mothers lover - feeling like a failure to cause my father to loose face. She assured me that everything was fine, that her husband had not lost face or been humiliated because he no longer desired her, that we had been wise to hide our intimacy. I looked up into my parents face and then down to her bare ageing breasts, the puddles of sperm I had deposited there moments before. It hit me then, how a Japanese family functions, how it could allow these incestuous relationships to prosper in secret. And I felt better than I had in weeks - even climbing upon my mother for another fuck. -*- My son sat terrified beside his equally fearful mother in our living room. Our youngest daughter would not be home for some hours and I had staged this after my mother's revelation the day before. "Do you love your mother boy?" I was speaking like a Japanese I realized, loud and sharp - dominant, the uncontested head of his home and family. Rarely did I act this way in our home - always trying to be the 'normal' Western husband and father. Not knowing where this was going my son nervously nodded positively. I could not help but lash out, "And you love to fuck her don't you?" My wife jerked at my aggressive confrontation. Of course my son sat without moving a muscle - his answer obvious and I was a bully to ask such a question. Forcing my voice calmer, "Was she your first?" He quickly snatched a look beside him to his mother and then nodded positive to me - embarrassment adding to his fear. I asked my wife, "When did it start?" With a quivering fear-filled voice my wife admitted, "Three months ago." At my son's age I had been fucking my mother for years and I had expected a much longer term to their incestuous relationship. Silence was thick for the minutes after that question. I knew after I talked with my mother that I stood to loose my wife - I could not keep on punishing and hurting her as I had, not if I wanted to keep her. I would eventually drive her away, drive her into my son's arms anyways. She was no Japanese, that was not more evident than now. It was time to explain to them the new arrangement. "You will move into the spare room immediately." It was my eldest daughter's room and this was effectively banishing my wife from my bed. She looked up in surprise, her fear still dominant in her features. "I am the head of this house and I shall be obeyed." Such a Japanese thing to say. "Now go to your new room, the sight of you makes me angry." My wife blinked twice until realizing I was dismissing her - she stood and rushed from the room, doing as I asked. Did she think I was going to follow and belt her again or perhaps rape one of her holes. My son had sat in silence through this, starring carefully at the floor before his feet. I softened my voice and spoke earnestly, "In a typical Japanese family, after the father, the next male child comes next. Do you understand what I am saying?" My son's eyes rose to my own but I could see that he did not understand. "I want you to go to your mother's room - be gentle with her because I had shamefully lost my temper and hurt her - but give her what she needs." This time my son blinked his distinctively Asian eyes at me in confusion and dawning surprise. "In the secrecy of this house you have my permission to use your mother." 'Use', not love. Though I loved my mother, it was not a romantic love - I used her for sex not from some misguided emotion. "I warn you - do not cause me to loose face again!" My son's face was slowly showing his surprise and dawning joy and he nodded positively. Eventually, "I am sorry dad." I held back the tear I felt start and nodded. I waved for him to go, "Go to your mother boy - enjoy her." As I had for many years. I was suddenly feeling proud of this decision and not so nervous - this was the right thing to do. I also felt a little saddened, some part of me that had publicly denied my heritage by desiring a life so unlike my parents had come apart. Without any knowing act of my own, we were more like your typical Japanese family after all. My son stopped just before exiting the room, "Thank you dad." I nodded as if it was nothing to give your son your wife for his sexual pleasure. I saw the question before he asked, answering before it was voiced, "It is how its done in a Japanese family son." He nodded as if understanding - and then I saw the spark of realization form within in, realizing that I had just admitted an intimate knowledge of his grandmother, my own parent. He turned and fled the room - overjoyed at this sudden change of heart in his father. I passed my wife's room twenty minutes later and heard the slow rhythmic movements of the springs of the unused bed - her sighs. I left the house as if it were my last day, but it was only the first of our renewed family life. Things changed after that. I found myself a sexy young mistress that I enjoyed. Oh, I didn't completely stop fucking my wife - but it was usually on special occasions, after a party or after drinking. My son was overjoyed - probably using his mom day after day, in all ways that he could imagine. My wife had become less animated, less emotional - almost, dare I say it, more Japanese - she rarely smiled, she did her duty and spoke little. My father died around that time and I had mother move to an apartment close to our house - I visited her frequently and my wife and son understood our relationship was much like their own - perhaps foretelling their future. -*- It was a couple years later, my son having moved across the country after college and had gotten married. Unlike my relationship with my parent, he had stopped having sex with his mom after meeting his future bride. Oh, I think they were intimate on the very rare occasion that he visited and they found time together - but I knew by looking at my wife, that it wasn't the same. After my mother died, I allowed my wife to return to my bedroom but I did not give up on the pretty young things that seemed to flock to older men with money. In the later years of my mother's life, she and my wife had become fast friends - and I suspected that they had shared everything about their secret relationships with the men in their lives. I guessed that this helped my wife accept her new life - so Japanese that it surprised even me. END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 64