The Fowler and His Net - Chapter 5 - Sex Stories

The Fowler and His Net - Chapter 5

... piercing screeches.

‘And think that your fanny is just sucking a lollipop on a warm summer day; on the beach in Crete, remember baby?’

Rachel continued with her screams as she focused on these new external imaginings. Her vocalisations began to die down slowly. Her mother was delighted.

‘Yes, that’s my little Baby, I’m so proud of you; my little baby!’

Gary’s well controlled work was being spoiled, so he thought, by Rachel’s newly found inactivity. He felt steadily more impotent.

‘Now, honey, ‘ Samantha continued, ‘I want you to pretend. You won’t be very good at the start, but you will learn to be much more convincing as you get older. Tell Mr. Fowler that you like it.’

‘I like it Mr. Fowler.’

‘Can you use bad language baby, like we practiced? Mr. Fowler, could you increase your speed please?’

Gary began to work harder and Rachel began to lose control again, however her mother didn’t interrupt this new course. ‘Oh, F,F,..’

‘Yes baby, say it. Say “Fuck” baby, tell Mr. Fowler you like it, you like being fucked!’

‘Fuck,' Rachel said quietly, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck…'

‘Yes baby,' enthused her mother, ‘Harder please Mr. Fowler.’

Gary began grunting and Samantha looked closely at him. He started to sweat and he felt himself close. As his grunting started to become more staccato she broke their union, grabbed Gary by the testicles and placed her thumb tightly on the back of his cock, fully cutting off any sperm passage that may have had the audacity ...

... to make an appearance. He screamed and howled his objection ‘Jesus, fucking Christ! Fucking bitch! Jesus fuck!’

Rachel scrambled away as her mother calmly kept hold of the genitals of a panicking Gary Fowler who shouted his torment in to the humid air of the bedroom.

After a minute of turmoil he started to calm until he finally collapsed on to the bed, still under control from a totally unruffled Samantha.

‘That young lady, was the height of bad manners!’ she looked sternly over at her daughter, ‘you should never run away from a man when he is in this kind of distress. He is to be comforted in such moments.’

‘Sorry Mummy.’

‘Well, no matter, we are, after all, only practicing.’

Gary was angry, confused and in steadily reducing pain from his treatment. The hurricane of testicular activity he had generated had been redirected back into his own balls. They felt heavy and pressurised and as a result he glowered at Mrs. Barton. ‘What t’bloody ‘ell did yer just do?’

‘Oh stuff and nonsense Mr. Fowler, you should be able to take a bit of gonadal restriction from a wee little girly like myself. Some of my gentleman friends undergo the process twelve, thirteen times in succession, and they are not big, strapping, young specimens like yourself!’

Gary was quite flabbergasted by her statement and lay cowed as Samantha carried on her tuition.

‘So, we obviously have some things to work on there darling. Let’s move on to male ejaculation and then we can allow Mr. ...