Mrs. Goldstein’s Addiction Pt. 02 – Fetish

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My life now is a vicious circle driving me from my shameful obsession to satisfaction that lasts an hour or two, then a gradual return to my obsession, my fetish.

I need sperm.

After long years of a mostly sexless life I’ve become helplessly obsessed with sperm … sucking it out of a hard dick, swirling the warm, sticky stuff in my mouth, then swallowing it to satisfy my hunger. And sucking for more.

It started with my husband’s sudden death then my daughter’s departure for school. My mind wandered through the long, empty hours exploring my new, lonely reality. Sometimes my thoughts turned to sex although sex had been such a small part of my life until then. I imagined hazy scenarios where unspecified things happened that were somehow vaguely erotic. My hands wandered over my breasts and between my legs leading to mild arousal, but without the powerful pleasure whispered about in the women’s locker room at my tennis club.

That changed abruptly when I visited my daughter Hannah for a weekend at her school. It was soon evident that she had a hyperactive social life including frequent sex. I was shocked! Was this the life of a 19-year-old girl these days? And she refused to discover her sex life abnormal or shameful.

“Mom, it’s fun!” she said, shivering and hugging her breasts with one arm while the other hand pressed against her lower belly. “There’ll be plenty of time for monogamy later!”

Glad her roommate was at class, I warned urgently about unwanted pregnancy, social diseases and her reputation, but she just laughed! And the strong, handsome boys we met on campus, in her dorm, at the student bars, clustered around her like bees around their queen. She only had to pick one!

My parents had picked my husband for me.

I made the long drive home with my mind whirling, my imagination racing from one sexy scenario to the next. I pictured Hannah naked, her face blissful, under a boy, her legs splayed wide while he plunged into her. I pictured her on all fours, a boy taking her from behind while she braced herself against his thrusts and cried out in pleasure. But in the end, somehow, all my imaginings — over and over — were of Hannah on her knees before a gorgeous young man, his dick deep in her welcoming mouth while they gazed into each other’s eyes.

That picture repeated over and over as I drove, Hannah eagerly sucking a dick until he lost control, groaned and filled her mouth with spurt after spurt of hot, sticky, life-giving sperm!

Panting with arousal, I finally had to pull over and take a long walk, forcing myself to think of something else.

At home it seemed impossible to think of anything else. I cleaned the house over and over, organized years’ worth of papers and belongings, walked my dog for miles, planted new flower beds, and redecorated rooms that didn’t need redecorating.

But when I was exhausted and climbed into bed at night it was like a movie playing in my head … Hannah on her knees swallowing sperm from a thick, hard dick while the excess dribbled down her chin to coat her breasts. And after a few nights my fantasy became even more twisted. When my imaginary Hannah finished swallowing a load of sperm and licking the excess off her fingers, she turned and there was another hard, throbbing dick for her to suck!

Gradually my treacherous imagination replaced my visions of Hannah with visions of myself, welcoming virile young men into my body and their seed into my mouth.

Finally I turned to the Internet hoping that watching women enact my fantasy would give me relief. But it didn’t work. My fixation became even more intense.

Most porn I found was fake and based on the humiliation of women. But occasionally, if I looked long and carefully, I could discover scenes with women like me sucking for the pure enjoyment of seeing their lover come and swallowing jet after jet of gorgeous sperm. I saved links to those videos and watched again and again.

Those scenes inspired me to masturbate. Naomi Goldstein, who was a virgin on her wedding night, and who was shocked and disgusted by the reality of sex, finally learned to use her body for pleasure. I masturbated over and over giving myself orgasms that satisfied me only for an hour before I needed to start again.

I ordered a dildo shaped like a penis and sucked it in every efficient position. On my knees, on my back, kneeling, mimicking the few good porn scenes I’d found, taking it in until I gagged.

But it wasn’t enough. I needed a real dick filling my mouth with real sperm I could feel on my tongue, then swallow knowing the milky liquid would fill me and become part of me.

There was deep, burning shame in all this and the knowledge that my obsession was far beyond what anyone considered ordinary. But the shame just made me blush and shiver and added intensity to my obsession!

I plotted methods to satisfy my fetish. My first foray to a dance club succeeded, but was so risky and humiliating that I vowed never to repeat it. I needed to discover a dick I could suck and balls I could empty without fear of criminal charges or social disaster.

Then there was Chris. I had all the time been aware of my neighbor’s son. I’d watched him grow up from a gangly boy to a strong, athletic young man. I’d also seen his eyes follow Hannah eagerly and hopelessly. She was kind, but her focus was on older boys.

The more I wondered about Chris the more I was tormented by his strong, young body mowing my lawn or just walking by my house. I imagined his dick, long and hard and at my service. But he was 17 when my obsession began, legally a child and off limits.

I knew the exact day he would turn 18, and I made a simple plan. With his parents out of town I would catch him alone, early in the morning, and discover a way to get my mouth on his dick. Once I started sucking I knew there was no way he could withstand. The Internet had showed me that a woman is in control once she has a man’s dick in her mouth. Men are helpless when they feel the warmth, wetness and suction of a eager mouth.

And my plan worked! Chris’s dick was mine as soon as my lips closed around it and he couldn’t withstand. I took him deep, his swollen dickhead bumping the back of my throat and his hard shaft stretching my lips. I sucked and stroked him with my tongue and fondled his balls. I was in heaven when his load of sperm shot out of the little hole, blast after blast filling my mouth.

Swallowing his first load was so, so satisfying and I only had to touch my clitoris for a strong orgasm to rack my body! He was so stunned by the sudden blowjob that I don’t think he even noticed.

Chris was dazed afterwards, but he seemed to figure out when I explained my obsession and what I needed from him. But unfortunately I failed to user account for his needs. No doubt he loved my cocksucking, but he didn’t distribute my fetish. He had the ordinary needs of an 18-year-old man including the natural urge to plunge his dick deep into a pussy and fill it with sperm.

What a waste!

But there was no way I could satisfy my urges without also satisfying Chris’s desires. So that first week we alternated. I lovingly sucked him off, then later that day or more often the next, he fucked my pussy and delighted in my breasts.

That was a new sensation for me. My husband had been quite rough when he paid attention to my breasts. But Chris treated my breasts like they were precious, holding and caressing them and sucking and gently tweaking my big nipples until I squirmed and dripped with arousal.

That was all wonderful, but there was one big issue. After I sucked his balls dry while fingering myself, or he spurted in my pussy, it took hours for Chris to recover, often overnight. Our first time was a fluke, when I had sucked him dry and he had filled my pussy in the same hour. That morning his balls had been swollen from several days without relief.

I coached Chris through the task of shaving my pubes so they wouldn’t absorb any of his wonderful juice. It was touching how carefully he treated my pussy, often checking to see if he was doing it right.

And I tried a couple of times after he came inside me to gulp the sperm that dripped from my pussy. But the mixture of sperm and pussy juice wasn’t the same as drinking fresh sperm and my fetish was not satisfied. I needed to swallow sperm directly from his dick. And even though young men have amazing stamina their bodies take time to produce a load of cum.

Finally I posed the issue to Chris while cuddling after he fucked me.


“You’re a wonderful, beautiful boy, and I would love to suck you off 10 times a day, but that’s not going to happen, is it?”

“It takes hours for my balls to fill up again after I’ve cum,” Chris said. “I’m sorry Naomi, but that’s just a physical fact. Every drop is yours, one way or another, there’s just a limited number of drops.”

“Would you hate me if I thought of a way to get sperm from another man? While still loving yours?

Chris hesitated, his feelings complex. On one hand he was in heaven with a stunning, full-figured woman eagerly sucking his dick and almost as eagerly taking him between her legs.

He was reluctant to even think of sharing Mrs. Goldstein’s gifts. But he also saw the desperate need on her face, the eager longing as she watched his dick deflate after she emptied his balls. This was his first encounter with somebody in the throes of a full-blown obsession and it aroused his sympathy.

“You told me it’s an obsession and I’ve seen how you need sperm in your mouth for a big climax,” he said. “So, no, I wouldn’t hate you. But how are you gonna discover somebody like me who will give you his sperm and keep his mouth shut?”

“I was hoping you could help with that,” she said. “You must know a lot of guys who are over 18?”

“I’d be happy to help, but every guy I know would begin bragging immediately if he got a blow job from a hot mom, never mind a blow job every day!”

“You don’t know a single young guy who could keep his mouth shut? I’d be mortified if people were talking about me, giving me funny looks at the tennis club.”

“Not one,” he said. “Hell, Dennis Prager hasn’t stopped bragging about the time Donna Teranova let him finger her at his birthday party and that was a year ago.”

They stared at each other in silence, Mrs. Goldstein looking disappointed.

“Listen, I’m sure we’ll think of something,” he said. “So we need a guy, preferably young, preferably in shape, who can keep his mouth shut about getting a blow job every day.”

“That … sounds impossible,” she said, sighing.

“Anything is efficient,” he said, not really believing it.


Chris sometimes enjoyed Mrs. Goldstein in his bed, but mostly they stayed at her house where she grew comfortable caressing his dick and offering him her gorgeous tits. He was fascinated by her breasts. He had once overheard his mother calling her “busty,” apparently meaning her tits were oversized for her body. They were big enough that they filled both his hands when he lifted them to his mouth. Always covered from the sun, they were pale with faint, blue veins under the skin. By contrast, her areolae and big nipples were a dark pinkish brown, crinkling and stiffening as he sucked them. He liked hearing her gasp and sigh as he suckled, now hard, now soft. But one request surprised him.

“When you’re sucking my nipples, once in a while, would you mind biting them? Not hard, just a nibble when I least expect it. And if I say stop just … don’t stop right away. Go for a while longer, just until I wonder if you’re going keep biting me. That would give me shivers!”

They also enjoyed long sessions just kissing when his balls were empty and his dick exhausted. Their wet tongues explored deeply and their hands wandered over each other. He learned the contours of a mature woman and came to appreciate her slender waist, wide hips and full ass. He forgot about the willowy high school girls that had filled his fantasies just days before. Their age difference didn’t matter when they were satisfying each other, and Chris anxiously counted the days until his parents returned from their cruise.

Then an email arrived. His parents had found a good deal on a two-week Mediterranean cruise and extended their vacation to take advantage. Their only concern was that he would feel lonely!

Chris and Mrs. Goldstein were both relieved and delighted. He had two more weeks to live out his wildest fantasies and she had more time to drink Chris’s sperm and possibly find another way to satisfy her fetish. Then the answer came in an unexpected way.

Chris had slept in his own bed for once, exhausted by Mrs. Goldstein’s constant needs, and had just finished breakfast, when the doorbell rang. He opened the door to two clean cut men of college age, both carrying a book. Each wore a small name tag on the pocket of his white dress shirt beside a black necktie.

“Hello my name is Elder Jacob and this is Elder Timothy and we’ve come today to offer our witness to your family.”

It quickly dawned on Chris that they were missionaries and he was about to make an excuse and close the door when an idea popped in his head.

“They make you guys leave your families and live together in a distant city, don’t they?” he asked.

“We’re asked to make certain sacrifices to spread the word,” Elder Jacob said, “but it’s only two years and it’s worthwhile if we can reach at least one person.”

Elder Timothy stood silent, looking nervous.

“Why don’t you come in and have a seat,” Chris said, “But can you wait a few minutes? I want to call somebody who would love to hear what you have to say.”

The two missionaries glanced at each other, then Elder Jacob nodded and agreed to wait. They refused an offer of water or lemonade and Chris seated them on the living room sofa before going into the kitchen and pulling out his phone. Mrs. Goldstein answered and he described his two visitors.

“These guys might solve our issue,” Chris said. “What if you just walked into my living room naked and then, um, see what happens. If it works, or not, there’s no way they’ll tell anybody.”

There was silence for a few seconds than Mrs. Goldstein replied slowly.

“Your idea is tempting, but I don’t think walking in naked would work. They would probably be shocked into running,” she chuckled. “I’ve got another plan. Can you tell if one of them is the leader?”

“Elder Jacob does the talking so I bet he’s the boss. He’s taller and has blond hair while his buddy has brown hair.”

“Okay keep them there. I’ll be coming in your back door in 10 minutes.”

“She’ll be here in 10 minutes, fellas,” he said, returning to the living room. “Are you sure you don’t want a lemonade?”

Without their script the missionaries didn’t have much to say although Elder Jacob admitted that the morning was fine and it would probably be hot later. Then they heard the back door open and close and Mrs. Goldstein walked in.

She was barefoot, wearing a short tennis skirt that displayed her tanned legs and a white fashion t-shirt so tight that her big breasts were plainly visible — including the bumps made by her big, stiff nipples. Mrs. Goldstein wore no makeup aside from something shiny on her lips and her glossy, dark hair hung far down her back. She walked straight to the sofa, introduced herself, then stood smiling over the two missionaries.

“You don’t mind if I sit between you, do you?”

Elder Timothy scooted aside while staring hypnotized at Mrs. Goldstein’s tits, but Elder Jacob kept his eyes fixed on Chris, hesitated, then launched into a monologue about the gospels. He faltered when Mrs. Goldstein put her hand on his thigh, leaned toward him and asked a question. Meanwhile Elder Timothy was staring at her other hand where it rested high up on his thigh.

With interruptions and comments Mrs. Goldstein skillfully prolonged Elder Jacob’s presentation while stroking his thigh and facing him so he got a good view of her breasts. Twice he half-heartedly pushed her hand off his thigh, but she gently put it back each time.

Her other hand stroked and squeezed Elder Timothy’s thigh and Chris could see his erection making a tent in the crotch of his black slacks.

Elder Jacob’s presentation slowed to a halt and he said quietly, “We’d better go,” his face flushed. But he made no move to leave and his eyes kept straying back and forth from Chris sitting across the room to Mrs. Goldstein’s tits, so enticing and so near.

Finally Mrs. Goldstein slid her hand between Elder Jacob’s thighs and he froze in mid-sentence, his eyes fixed on her gently smiling face so near his own. She kept up a flow of casual comments while her hand moved rhythmically in his crotch. Her other hand stroked Elder Timothy’s hardon as he leaned back motionless with his eyes closed. After two or three minutes she spoke.

“Chris would you please come take off my shirt?”

Chris carefully pulled her t-shirt up and off and now Elder Jacob’s eyes were fixed on Mrs. Goldstein’s big, pale tits as they hung swaying slightly just inches in front of him. One of his hands gripped the arm of the sofa while the other slowly reached out to lift a heavy breast. His face wore an expression of fearful wonder.

She stopped rubbing Elder Timothy’s hardon and he frowned and whimpered in protest. He stroked her bare shoulder hoping she would turn to him, but all her attention was on Elder Jacob so he reached under her arm to hold and squeeze her left tit.

Mrs. Goldstein eased Elder Jacob’s zipper down, reached into his slacks and pulled out his dick — long, thick and uncircumcised. It was hard as a steel bar and she had to maneuver it carefully to get it out. Then, in an instant, she leaned down, holding his dick with both hands, and took it in her mouth.

“OhMYGOD!” he cried. He moved convulsively as if to rise, then settled back, looking wide-eyed down at Mrs. Goldstein’s head hovering over his crotch.

The missionary uttered a deep moan and a second later his hips started thrusting uncontrollably, driving his dick again and again into her sucking mouth. In less than a minute he gave a series of hoarse cries as he came, holding Mrs. Goldstein’s head to his crotch. Chris could see her cheeks hollowing and her throat moving as she harvested spurt after spurt of his sperm.

Elder Timothy was now moaning with arousal and aggressively groping Mrs. Goldstein’s tits as she moved to kneel between Elder Jacob’s legs. She licked the head of his dick, laving her tongue into his small hole seeking the last drops of his seed.

Finally she lifted her face from Elder Jacob’s crotch and turned to Elder Timothy. Still on her knees she urged him to his feet, clawed open his belt and zipper and yanked his slacks and underwear to his ankles. His dick sprang out, shorter and thicker than Elder Jacob’s, but just as hard. Her mouth was quickly on him while her nose was buried in his pubes. He came even faster than his fellow missionary, holding her head and grunting each time he thrust into Mrs. Goldstein’s mouth. Again Chris could see her cheeks hollowing and her throat moving as she gulped burst after burst of cream, with her eyes closed in ecstasy.

The two missionaries had clearly not emptied their balls in a long time.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Elder Timothy standing with his slacks around his ankles and Mrs. Goldstein kneeling before him, sucking hungrily. He stared straight ahead and his hands caressed her head as his dick slowly deflated. She gave one last suck, licked his little hole, and turned back to Elder Jacob who sat limp, his face turned up and his eyes closed. She grasped his shrinking dick and began licking the weak dribbles of sperm still oozing from his balls.

Watching Mrs. Goldstein suck down two loads of sperm in a few minutes had Chris’s dick hard and ready. He discarded his shorts, knelt behind her and flipped up her tennis skirt to find she was not wearing panties. Her plump outer lips were inviting just below her tiny brown asshole. He guided the head of his dick between her lips and slid slowly inside her on a gusher of pussy juice.