Clementina, Chapter I – Penetration - Sex Stories

Clementina, Chapter I – Penetration

... bothered me more than it did. Maybe it was still the after effects of her milk – which was another thing I needed to think over. What was up with that?

Clementina opened her eyes, then pulled me towards her and we embraced. She didn’t say much, and I declined to participate in the afterglow, instead I ducked back out into the hallway.

My mother was coming down the hallway towards me, holding the pajama bottoms we had left in her room. I suddenly realized I was still naked, my cock was half-erect, and the mixture of Clementina’s grool and my semen still dripped from my meat.

She looked at me. “I thought I heard something. Why are you naked? And why were these in my bedroom?” She handed me my pajamas.

“Just doing some more late night plumbing inspections,” I sneered as I slammed my bedroom door behind me.

PART III

I didn’t even bother pulling my pajama bottoms on, I just crawled into bed naked, turned out the light, and waited for my mother to come storming in after me, demanding what was going on. And I was ready to give her the unadulterated truth. It was one thing for her to play the little sexy show-off games she liked to play with people (like my friends). That was harmless, silly, and flirty. Blackmail was a different story.

But on the other hand, that was me speaking as a guy. Overwhelmingly, sexual blackmail was usually a man taking advantage of a woman. Guys were supposed to be immune to that sort of thing, right? It shouldn’t bother me, right? ...

... Especially when you consider that Clementina was extremely desirable.

Part of me that wanted to go back into Clementina’s room and rage fuck her in whatever hole I wanted. But I guess I wasn’t much of a real man, because there was also a part of me who wanted to die.

I ended up curled up in a fetal position under the covers, going back and forth between rage and sorrow.

Somehow I managed to fall asleep. In my frustration I forgot to set the alarm. So when my mother ambled out of bed at around 7:30 the next morning, I was still asleep.

I pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and made my way downstairs, looking to fill a travel mug with coffee and bolt for Home Depot, but my mother stopped me in the kitchen. Clementina was still asleep.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?” my mother asked.

I was already irritated, so I played stupid. “I went over to her house, I was looking at her pipes and one broke when I was inspecting the damage. It’s like I said.”

“No,” she said. “I mean after I went to bed.”

“Sure, as soon as you answer my question.”

“What question was that?”

“Did you talk to Clementina between the call when she asked you to send me over, and the call when she asked to spend the night?”

“I already told you no, I didn’t,” she said. I could tell she was annoyed a little, but it seemed like her questioning came more from a curiosity side than an anger side.

“Truthfully?” I said.

“Why would I lie? And I really don’t care if you ...