Stockings
Chapter 8: Pegging is Fun

Copyright© 2017 by Bondi Beach

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 8: Pegging is Fun - Charlie and her brother like to dress up. Things change between the two of them and with their parents during a summer vacation at the lake, when their favorite game becomes more than a game and they discover love reveals itself in many forms. This story is about love and boners, inspired by the art of J. B. Hopkings. NOTE: Check the codes. If you're not sure what "pegging" is, find out before you start. Also, be advised there is some mm and mM, oral, in this story.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   mt/mt   Mult   Consensual   CrossDressing   Fiction   Incest   Pegging  

MOM AND I were lounging around one afternoon a couple of weeks later after she’d made Danny come when she asked me if I wanted to help her give him and Dad a treat.

“What’s that, Mom?”

She smiled.

“Give them a little taste of how it is for us. Danny knows what it’s like to wear stockings and the rest of it, and this will show him a little more about what it’s like to be a girl.”

“How?”

“Be right back.”

When Mom returned she carried a strappy thing with a cock. I knew what a dildo was, but at first I couldn’t figure out the straps. All of a sudden I realized exactly what she had in mind.

“Are you kidding, Mom? Dad likes this? Is he gay?”

“Lots of straight men like pegging, Charlie.”

She chuckled.

“You don’t become gay or straight by the things you do, Charlie, we talked about that.”

She ran her hands over the cock.

“Pegging’s an act, that’s all, and for a man who likes to experiment and the woman he’s with if she’s into it as well, it’s a hell of a lot of fun.”

Now Mom stroked the contraption. She chuckled.

“These are often marketed as marital aids for men who have trouble getting erect. For a lot of folks it’s easier to buy a marital aid than a sex toy. Your dad doesn’t need this, but when I’m inside him he gets super extra hard and he shoots a gallon, Charlie.”

Another chuckle.

“I guess you could call it a marital aid. It’s sure helped us.”

I stared at the cock.

“It’s really nice for the girl in front, the one your dad is inside of, too, when he comes.”

“Mom?”

“I told you your dad is pretty frisky. We play with other people, sometimes. Like we did with Ruth and David’s parents, although they’re not into this. Not often, and only with people we know and trust.”

She smiled.

“And when we’re in the mood, of course.”


I put down the collection of Kelly Link stories I was reading. Ms Valentine, my English teacher next year, had assigned Link’s short story, “Magic for Beginners,” for us to read over the summer and to write an essay about it. She said we’d talk about the story in class the first week. Her email didn’t tell us what we were supposed to write about or even how much.

I’d read the story twice and I still didn’t get it. I mean, on the one hand it was wonderful. That’s a funny word to describe a story about really odd people, kids and adults, who are fans of this imaginary TV series that sounds more like a video game for someone on drugs that no one understands and no one knows anything about but they all have to watch it. They can’t stand to miss an episode.

Oh, and there’s a library that’s huge. Infinitely huge, it seems. It’s got everything.

That’s it. That’s the story. Except that once I started it I couldn’t stop reading. It’s wonderful because you can’t believe these characters exist, but they’re as real as anybody even if they’re quite strange. Doesn’t matter. Link hooked me from the first page. Before I knew it I cared about them and what might happen to them. Such odd stuff. A favorite character on the TV show has been killed unexpectedly. Or maybe she’s not dead. The story’s central character inherited a phone booth. He’s got this weird nickname he hates, “Amoeba,” or something like that. Anyone would hate it.

There’s romance, too. The hero can’t decide whether to kiss one girl or the other, or maybe he kissed the wrong one, or does the one he likes like him. That’s the kind of confusion all of us, me and Danny and our friends, understand. It’s a short story, a quick read, and I’d asked Danny to read it and tell me what he thought. I figured that wasn’t cheating, really. I’d still put down only my thoughts.

“Danny?”

We were on the little soft grassy patch just beyond the patio. It got shade this time of day, and we’d already spent a lot of time in the sun or in the water that morning. I was tired but in a good way, and sleepy. I wanted to doze because I’d eaten one too many of Mom’s tuna fish sandwiches at lunch. She makes really good ones, lots of mayo and plenty of relish and mustard and crunchy stuff like celery with the tuna.

Danny rolled over on his back. His cock was kind of sleepy, too, slumped over to the side, the Boner of the gods nowhere in sight at the moment.

 
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