5-Hour Nick

You saw him standing across the crowded room with that signature red solo cup sitting firmly within his soft grip. The man, the myth, the legend. 5 Hour Nick. Famous for being able to get any woman to bare it all to him, and rub their bodies against his, within 300 minutes or less or your admiration/disgust/awe/jealousy refunded.

Your brother was one of the many who couldn’t stand him. He would claim that 5-Hour Nick was a sham, a fraud, a facade, a house of cards. That most of his perfume-scented conquests were forged, and he had only gotten lucky a few times at a few parts just like everybody else (everybody except for you). This was what your brother told you. And maybe part of you thought he was right. But then another part of you, perhaps the realist in you, felt like your brother was not only incorrect, but actively and knowingly lying when he said those things. Lying to himself most of all. I mean, why else did your brother decide to never bring his girlfriend to any of the school parties? Why was it only the church crowd he felt comfortable bringing her around to?

You could say that maybe those two friend groups, school and church, didn’t gel well, what with one being centered entirely around the worship of Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Savior, and the other being a schoolful of roughnecks from the bad part of town. Maybe your brother just didn’t want to bring his pious and sweet girlfriend around that energy. Maybe he was embarrassed by it? No, couldn’t be. She knew many of his friends, and they didn’t act differently around her, nor did he ever demand that of them. He’s even smoked weed with his friends while his girlfriend was in the car. You and her sat there awkwardly, sober as the day you were born, as your brother and his friends howled like 3 jackals at the most frustratingly mundane things.

And then there was that summer when 5-Hour Nick was vacationing in Italy. During that 2 month period, your brother made sure to bring his little blonde girlfriend to every house party held by any and everybody in your school whether low life or teacher’s pet. No, it was obvious what it was your brother was hiding from. He was hiding from the fact that he was hiding his GF. Hiding her from 5-Hour Nick.

The idea that even your brother was afraid of him, which he obviously was, gave his legend even more weight with you. It made it so delectably real. It wasn’t that you wanted to live through 5-Hour Nick. It was just that you wanted him to succeed. You wanted it to be true. You wanted to know that there was a master-key out there, it didn’t have to be you, in fact it was preferable if it wasn’t, as you wouldn’t even know what to do with all those women in your scrawny arms.

You kept looking over at him from across the party. He wasn’t even all that good looking. But still somehow you knew it was all true. It had to be. Or… maybe it was you who had been bitten by the spell of wishful thinking.

The tables had been turned and now it was your brother who was away in Rome for 3 weeks on a school related archaeological dig. And while your brother, normally acting in fear of 5-Hour Nick, relished and thrived in an environment without him, it was you who would relish and thrive in an environment without your brother. It was just you and your mom at home.

When you caught 5-Hour Nick with your eyes, standing alone for just a second of time, you shot across the party rapidly, meaning to catch him solo. But before you could get there, 2 more guys made it to him first. You stopped dead in your tracks. He noticed you as you did. He looked up at you, intrigued, then turned back to his friends and started talking.

He looked back up from time to time and you looked away quickly when he caught your gaze. You were petrified at the sight of his as if his eyes were the eyes of gorgon, his left eye Sodom, his right Gomorrah, and you were a pillar of salt in the wilderness frozen through the misfortune of looking back at him. Suddenly, the memory of your mom nude under that water fall, apparently alone but for your prying eyes. Clear water falling on the crest of her ass and her thighs as she wet her hair underneath it. You, at the thought of somebody seeing it, motioned toward the direction of your belt buckle, and as you did, the bush ruffling, and her eyes shooting up at you, causing you to turn to stone in the grasp of her big blue, round eyes.

She looked in your direction, and then, evidently not being able to make you out through the thick foliage, went back to enjoying the massaging fingers of the falls on her shoulders and breasts. Her feet splashed as they felt for her footing on the stone. When she got out she wrapped her towel around the goods. This was your signal to leave. You went back to the camp and got in the tent next to your sleeping brother. It didn’t take long after getting into your sleeping bag for you to remove your cock from your underwear. You massaged it thinking about somebody else being where you were in that moment, watching your mom, her body, in that state of blissful nudity. And you tugged on your cock as you did. Her side profile, the moment she heard something, with her breasts protruding proudly in front of her, and her ass behind, both far off from the baseline of her torso. Her face in your direction, as if she could see you, and her two big blue eyes.

Why didn’t anyone else deserve to see it?

Wrong question. Deserve wasn’t a lens that the universe decided through. It decided through Could.

You were about to blow as you imagined your 6 foot 5 gym teacher watching from your very spot, peering through those bushes as the woman who raised you was made clean by nature, her butt crack and her nipples visible to his prying eyes, much unlike any other day in his life.

Just before you could ruin your night by cumming into the free range of your sleeping bag, the tent door zipped open and you turned over quickly and shut your eyes. Your mom came in behind you in the dark. You slowly turned over just as she pulled her black underpants over her barely visible butt crack. She turned around, with her breasts swinging freely, but you turned away quickly, not determined to see if luck would be on your side two times that night.

You turned around again to see your mom conceal her golden body in her garrish purple sleeping bag. She turned around slowly, not trying to make too much noise as her nipples and butt cheeks disturbed her sleeping bag fabric. You could barely make out the shape of her ass through that purple material. Even still, it was enough to climax peacefully in the night to. But you didn’t want to have to sleep in your sticky mess all night. Her wet towel was outside, hanging above the grass on an invisible wire, absorbed with all her essence in the night air. A wolf howled somewhere. That very same night air that nipped at your mom’s soft extremities was the same one that legions of foul creatures stalked through. And as exciting as the thought of one of those creatures appearing from the shadows was, it was a letdown to know that if any came, none of them would come to ravage your mom.

Your cock rubbed against the blue fabric of your sleeping bag as you looked over at your brother, imagining a ghoulish beast gobbling him up in front of you. You smiled as your cock twitched, then the same creature grabbing hold of your squealing mom and dragging her out into the moonlight, where you could watch from the tent doorway, as it had its beastly ways with her. You looked at her ass through its purple cloak as she ruffled to get comfortable in there, and you imagined it, nude again, and up in the air, with her face to the ground, and the were-creature behind her, with his claw on her face, pressing its other side into the grass, and his pelvis up against the broad curve of her ass, each cheek splayed open, as he pumped away. You could see it all framed by the edges of her hanging towel.

Your hands were up over your bag, and when your mom wiggled herself again into her final resting position, her ass poked out and the purple material wrapped perfectly and tightly around it, as if a bubble was growing out the side of it, and you came without any help from your hands. Your teeth clamped down as you tried with all your might to keep silent through the wave after wave of pleasure. Finally, mercifully, the pleasure stopped. And the night was quiet.

You woke up in the morning with your brother by the river and your mom whistling as she made eggs over the fire. She was fully clothed in sharp contrast to last night. She looked over at you and smiled. “Breakfast is almost ready. Did you sleep good last night?”

5-Hour Nick looked up at you again and put his hand up sideways as if to say “what’s up?”

You thought about your mom’s eyes. You walked right up to him and his two friends looked at you strangely.

“Are you 5-Hour Nick?” you asked.

“Who’s asking?”

One of the two guys answered for you, telling him who your brother was. He looked at you as he did, making you feel uneasy.

“5-Hour Nick? Yeah, that’s me.”

You swallowed. “Does it really only take 5 hours?”

“No, it takes 6. Yes of course it takes 5. Hence the nickname, y’know?”

“Any woman?” you asked, almost afraid to.

His friend interrupted “yes! Any woman. Including-”

The other guy hit him, shutting him up. The butterflies, oh the butterflies inside you. These two had seen your mom before, you could be sure of that now. But the look on 5-Hour Nick’s face as he saw one friend hit the arm of the other showed you that he had never had the pleasure.

Within seconds, your best plan of action became apparent to you. Tell 5-Hour Nick that you’d like lessons in picking up women, watch all three of them smirk at you dismissively. Tell them that because your brother is gone for the months, and your brother always hated him, that he should use that opportunity to come to your place in the mean time and teach you the ropes. The one who almost mentioned your mom would smirk dismissively again, but before he could finish whatever mean remark he cooked up in his mind, the other one, being the smarter of the two, would last second have a visible epiphany and hit the other one in the arm again, causing 5-Hour Nick to look again perplexed at his two friends. And as you walked off, the smarter one would already be telling 5-Hour Nick all about your mom and just how delicious a dish she was. And he would be right in assuming that the deliciousness didn’t start at the neck up. You had seen that with your own two eyes.

5-Hour Nick would be coming to you then, as if it was you who had something to give. It would be the first time in your life that something like that happened. And you’d come up with a time and date, pretending your schedule is full, only to “make time for him” tomorrow afternoon. Then he’d come by and you’d introduce him to your mom. Then you’d see if he lived up to his namesake. Then you’d know whether or not magic really existed. The magic you’ve believed in within your heart of hearts ever since that moonlit night.

So that should be the plan. And if you had patience and skill and cunning and charisma, you’d do it and it would go off as you described to yourself without a hitch. And then you’d either know that magic exists, and you could die happy, or you could find out once and for all that it never did, and you won’t have to live your life wondering what if.

So that should be it. That’s the way it should be done.

Instead you blurted out “have you ever seen my mom?”

The dumb one: “I have” with a smile.

The smart one with a look of puzzlement.

5-Hour Nick: “No. What kind of question- is she here?”

You: “No.”

“Okay, what are you asking? I don’t get it.” he said, looking genuinely annoyed.

“I seen her,” said the dumb one again.

“What about her?” the smart one asks, the only one looking as intrigued as he should have been.

“I…. uh.” You froze suddenly. Your lips and tongue wouldn’t move and you felt dizzy standing there with the 3 sets of eyes on you, one set aroused, impish and confused, the other annoyed, bored and confused, and the third intrigued, hopeful and confused.

The smart one again: “What does your mom have to do with 5-Hour Nick.”

The fact that he said his full cognomen like that stirred up the embers in the pit of your soul.

“Do you want him to meet her?” He asked slowly. 5-Hour Nick looked over. The dumb friend looked over to, barely just understanding but not quite there yet.

You sheepishly nodded your head, afraid that it was about to fall off with each tilt.

He stopped to think about it. “Okay…… How long do you want him to meet her for?”

You tried to keep your face the same, terrified of overextending yourself, but inside you were rattling like a cage.

“1 Hour?” He suggested.

You couldn’t hide it. You smiled.

“2 Hours?”

The blood rushed to your face. 5-Hour Nick noticed

“3 Hours?” he said, and waited for a reply.

You stood there for a second and signalled higher with a thumbs up.

“4 Hours?” he suggested, now smiling from ear to ear. 5-Hour Nick looked over at him.

You exhaled involuntarily.

“…5 Hours?”

The soles of your feet and the palms of your hands were electric.

“6 Hours?”

You interjected, “But he only takes 5.”

He smiled. 5-Hour Nick looked at him and he looked back. He nodded his head. The dumb one, not so out of the loop now, grabbed his shoulder encouragingly. He looked over at you. “That’s right. It’ll only take 5,” he said and smiled.

Your lips were quivering, visibly, but you were too far into the realm of excitement to feel any embarrassment. “Come tomorrow. Please,” you said desperately. “I won’t be in your way.”

“That’s good,” he said, smirking.

“And my brother’s gone. He can’t stop you.”

“He never could have. The only thing that can stop me is not having 5 hours to spare.”

“He could have stopped me though,” you said, and smiled. “He can’t stop me now.”

The smart one interjected “Your brother likes to stop things, I noticed. He stops his girlfriend from coming to these parties because he’s afraid Nick’s going to take her for a spin. He thinks Nick’s in the business of fucking other guys’ girls. Your brother’s a faggot, dude.”

You smiled and looked down, not wanting to insult your brother. The image of your mom’s side profile under the waterfall flashed in front of you.

“So this is a good payback then, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you said. You really did agree. Not that you wouldn’t have done this either way.

He pushed 5-Hour Nick’s shoulder, and 5-Hour Nick looked at him and smiled. He said, “You’re so lucky man. Can you text us tomorrow and tell us what happened?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said.

“Okay, what time tomorrow?” he asked you.

“1:00.”

“Okay, so 6 tomorrow?” he closed his eyes in thought, “no, it takes time to fuc…. 8 tomorrow then? So you can go at it and hang out or whatever.”

“How about 7. It takes an hour after I stick it in, and I’m not sticking around long after that. I didn’t know that faggot even had a GF until you just said it. If he can’t show my any respect, his mom isn’t getting any either.”

“You mean she isn’t getting any after your balls are empty?” his friend clarified with a smirk.

“Yeah, after I empty them on her face,” he said and they all started laughing. You stood there, eyes wide in awe. You didn’t even know what to do with your arms, so you crossed them and they trembled against your ribs.

You left the house that night with 3 new number in your phone. You texted one of those numbers your home address along with some basic instructions as you walked through the early morning air. You felt alive for the first and only other time since that night by the waterfall. Your mom’s beautiful profile and her blue eyes, reflecting the giant full moon, as she looked over at you, scared to find something, even a hint, out in the dark green flashes, something out to get her, lurking in that darkness.

You held up your hand with your index finger sticking up. You mouthed out the numbers 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 in sync with your fingers: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

When you got home, your mom was sleeping on the couch peacefully. You went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. Your cock was hard against the sink as you gulped down the clear liquid. It was cool on your throat. The moonlit night air spilled in through the open window. You put the glass back down in the sink and you turned around and almost jumped out of your skin when you saw your mom standing there.

“Did you enjoy the party, sweety?”

“Yeah, mom,” you said. She had no idea.

“That’s good,” she said, and she yawned and stretched her limbs out, leaving her breasts to hang out covered in baby blue fabric. It was 11 hours til 1:00 noon. “By the way,” she said, near the end of her yawn, “do you want a cookie?”

“Sure, mom”

She leaned over the kitchen table to grab one from the tray under the cloth. Her ass, wrapped in pajamas, in full, sweet view.

10 hours, 59 minutes, and 50 seconds left, you thought as you scanned her baby blue ass. She looked back up at you with her blue eyes and handed you the cookie “here you go, sweety.”

“Thanks” you said as you looked down at her and took a bite.

“Anyways, I should go to bed. Sleeping on the couch is rough on me,” she said and she grabbed her lower back with an open palm and gave a look of subtle pain.

“Okay. Good night mom” you said.

“Goodnight, sweety,” she replied and you watched her baby blue ass as she left the kitchen and went down the hall.

As her bedroom door closed, you shot for your belt buckle, and you undid it, unzipped your pants and let your cock fall out. “Uhhhhh” your murmured. It had been pent up in there all night. The slight chill form that night blew in through the window. You stood in the white light of your kitchen and you massaged your cock and balls. 10 hours and 58 minutes left.

You twisted and turned in your bed all night until finally, at 6:00 AM, your eyes closed. They opened back up at 11:00 AM. You got up quickly, ate your mom’s breakfast, told her you were going out, then when she was in the washroom, you knocked on the door and told her you were leaving. You opened and shut the front door loudly, then snuck back into your room.

Your phone was fully charged so you could take a pictures. You wanted to send it to him so nobody could question his nickname ever again. You wanted to send it to him so he could send it to the guys and they could see her how you saw her that night. See her in an even more compromised state. She shut off the tap and came out the washroom.

Your mom went about her business as if she were alone in the house. 20 minutes later, the doorbell rang. Your mom’s feet click-clacked on the floor and then you heard the door open. And when you heard his voice, it sounded as sweet as honey to you. Your cock couldn’t believe you were hearing that voice under your roof. It was happy as you played with it.

“Hi” your mom exclaimed.

“Hi,” he answered.

There was a silence of a little over 2 seconds in length.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure that I know who you are,” your mom explained.

He explained that he was your brother’s friend. “You must be his sister.”

“Oh, no. Wow. No. I’m his mother. Nice to meet you.”

“Ohhh. So you’re who he gets his big blue eyes from.”

“Yes, that would be me” she said and giggled.

“Don’t worry, they look much prettier on you,” he said and she started laughing, sounding flustered.

“So what brings you here then? You know he’s in Rome, right?”

“Yes I know.”

“Soooo?” your mom inquired.

“Well, I guess, both your sons have told me such great things about you so I wanted to talk to you myself.”

“Awwww. Really? That’s so heartwarming. But-”

“Yeah, and I just came to prove to myself that you’re not all that great.”

Your mom laughed. “Awwww. Wow. You’re funny.”

It got silent for a second. But it felt like a lot longer to you as you stood behind your bedroom door, pulling on your dick.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“That face you just made now.”

“What face.”

“You just gave this look and it looked like you were a movie star or something.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, when you were looking at me just now, you made this face and… it was weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. But I mean in a good way. It was…. just weird.”

“Well, I don’t know,” she said and laugh, “I’m not sure what-”

“Stop! There it is again. What is that?”

“What, what?”

“Oh, it’s gone.”

“Well, I don’t-”

“Man,” he said, “if only you could make that face all the time, you’d be famous.”

“Wow. I wish I knew what you meant.”

“I mean, you look good without it too, but with it you were a real stunner.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, ‘huh’ is right.”

There was another silence. Then your mom broke it with “would you like some cookies? I made some last night.”

“Yes, I’d love a good cookie. They said your cookies were the best too. So I have to try.”

The crunches were inaudible at your distance. “So… how is it?”

“….not good.”

“What!? Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding genuinely disappointed, “it’s great,” he said non-chalantly.

“Oh!” she said and you could hear the limp thud of her hand against his shoulder.

“Hey, no violence.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Geeze, they never told me about that part of you. No wonder they say such nice things about you all the time. They’re trying to stay on your good side.”

“Seriously, stop it! You-”

“Again!”

“Again what?”

“That face. It’s gone now. But you just did it there.”

“Ughhh,” your mom said, annoyed.

“Come here,” he said, “you have this nice big mirror here just for opportunities like this. Look.”

“Tell me when I make it.”

“I will, come here.”

There voices got lower, as if they were standing shoulder to shoulder. Or maybe… back to chest.

“Is this kind of like it?”

“No. That’s nothing like it. Don’t do that gain.”

She laughed. “Geeze.”

“Geeze is right. Concentrate.”

“I am. I-”

*smack*

The silence was deafening.

And then loudly: “That’s the face!”

“What are you doing?”

“That was payback for hitting me in the arm.”

Your mom, almost firm, “Didn’t your mom ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?”

“That face is gone. Yes she did, but every woman in my life has taught me the opposite. Now turn around.”

“Hey!” your mom shrieked.

“Now concentrate. We almost had it.”

“I don’t think-”

“Don’t think.”

“Hey! What are you doing!?”

“Shhhh”

“Stop!”

“Shut up. Just keep yours eyes up and at the mirror.”

“No!”

“Let go of them.”

“No!”

“Just let go, eyes up.”

“Wait!”

“Yeah, like that, like that. See? Nothing bad happens when your finger don’t get in the way like that. Keep them away. No! No!”

“Hey!”

“Shhhhh. Shhhhh. I just want to see it without underwear. Just let me- Yeah, that’s a good girl.”

“What are you do-”

“You’re making the face again. Look back in the mirror. Don’t mind me down here. *smooch*

“Oh!” she started panting. “Stop…” she said breathily.

“You should have stopped me before I got down here. *smooch* Now I can’t stop. I need to see all of you.”

Your mom whimpered. As did you as you kept your ear and cock pressed against the door.

“Just step out- yeah like that. Goood giiirrll. Turn around. Yeah.”

“What-”

“I want to kiss it.”

“No.”

“Just the hair. Just a peck. *kiss* Good.”

Your mom whimpered uncontrollably.

“You’re making it again… That face. No, another face. A better one. I want to look at the rest of you now, but I can’t take my eyes off that face. Take off your shirt. Wait, wait, wait! Okay, go do it. I just didn’t want it to get in the way of that face. And look, you’re still making it on the other side. Now the bra. You don’t have to cover your face when you do that, thank god. Yeesss. Wow, they look just like he told me they would.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Because when he was a baby, he seen them. Get it?”

She started laughing limply, not because she didn’t find it funny, but because her laugh was drowned out by her ecstasy.

“I couldn’t even imagine this was what would happen today. But you’re just so beautiful, and you kept seducing me with that face. Here, pull down my pants and see how beautiful I think you are.”

Now you knew what desperate hands on zippers sounded like. You had heard your own desperate hands on your own burdensome zipper many times before, including just 10 minutes ago.

“You like it don’t you? Play with it. Yeah, like that. You’re making that face again, but at my cock. No, don’t look at me. Look back down. I like it. Look, he likes it. Let me take my pants off.”

His belt buckle made a clang as it hit the hardwood floor.

“Let’s take this to the couch.”

“Okay,” your mom whispered.

10 minutes passed, but it felt like forever. You slowly opened your door, sliding the bolt inch by inch, and then sliding the door open inch by inch on its creaky axis. You then inched closer toward the grown, as if you had reverted back to being a baby, and you crawled out into the hallway. You heard the subtle auditory indications of something gorgeous happening so close. Like the sound of water running through a treeline in the night. You slowly but surely pushed along the floor, remembering the moral of that story your mom read to you as a child: slow and steady wins the race. You were completely naked from the waist down and your hard cock slid across the hardwood.

It was just around the corner now. You pulled out your phone and turned on the camera.

1…

2…

3….

You rounded the corner.

He sat on his bed and played with his cock. That lucky bastard, he thought. Not only are girls throwing themselves at him, but even their sons were doing it for them! He couldn’t stand hanging out with him. But once upon a time he thought that if he did, he could pick up on his sloppy seconds. He knew better now. The girls Nick got were always out of his league. But he couldn’t stand not seeing them. And plus, he knew that perks like the experience of seeing that last night, that red-faced jackass stammering his way through a request for Nick to have his devilish way with his mom. If he didn’t continue to hang out with Nick, he wouldn’t have those stories to tell. And he wouldn’t be lying on his bed today, watching the minute hand on the clock tick by so unbearably slow, waiting for the text.

It was 3:00 PM. 3 more hours to go, he thought. Suddenly his phone vibrated. He looked over to see he got a text with an image attached from Nick. He opened it up.

His jaw hit the floor.

He texted back “dude, it’s only been 2 hours.”

And back to him came “yeah, but I got her pants off in 10 minutes.”


“Dam, i always knew this bitch would look good fuckin how was she”

“She was great. He sent me the full video footage. Even when i came on her face. I told her she was making this movie star face and then i came on it and started laughing at her. You have to see it”

“Tonight?”

“No, Im all tuckered out from hammering her pussy.”

“tomorrow?”

“Maybe the day after.”

“Why man why not tomorrow”

“Seems i have an engagement tomrrow. He invited me to a church party. And you know who will be there.”

“A church party? Your a christian now. Who?”

“His mom gave it up in 10. let’s see if his gf will give it up any quicker.”

“ha ha pretty soon we’ll be calling you 5-Minute Nick”

Your mom’s ass trembled in the air as she sobbed facedown into her throw-pillow. You filmed it feverishly only 10 feet away, as you pulled on your hungry cock, eager to capture as much of it as you could in digital immortality so you could send it to 5-Hour Nick in celebration of what he’s reduced her too. You pulled your cock up with your index and middle finger on your left hand and then let it go.

*Thud* against the kitchen floor.

Your mom’s head shot up, and she looked behind her.

You pulled back behind the doorway, struggling to not make a peep, even though the excitement and sudden rushing feeling of fear made you want to gasp. You looked straight ahead into the kitchen, terrified she would come in and see you there without your pants. You could imagine it vividly. Her bare footsteps on the hardwood and her coming around that corner completely nude and looking down at you in horror and disgust. Oh god, you were about to cum.

Luckily you didn’t cum. And even more lucky, she didn’t come. But something caught your eye. Something blue. You looked up into the black mirror of the microwave door and you saw her there, her fat ass still up in the air. And her face, twisted towards you on the swivel of her neck, tilted slightly to the right, peering into the dead kitchen. Her two big blue eyes wide with a look you couldn’t even describe. Beautiful beyond mere language. But instead of those two blue eyes swimming in a lake of white, her eyes were red with tears. And her usually pristine face was wet with cum.

She snorted suddenly and her ass jiggled as she did. She was beautiful.

You were lucky she didn’t look at that microwave door glass with any concentration. Otherwise she’d see you peering up at her. You slowly lifted your phone up, trying to make as little movement as possible, and you filmed that look. That beauty that had no name.

And suddenly, it transformed as her face scrunched up.

You froze.

And then the face taking its intended form welled up pathetically and she threw it into the pillow and continued sobbing. And you turned around to film her ass up in the air jiggling as she did. She had never been more beautiful. In this, her most private moment. And soon the whole world Could see it.


Magic was the right people at the right places at the right time. You believed in magic. You’d be an idiot not to.

Bluvelvet99: Best Stories of 2018 as voted on by you

So here it is. My list of the best stories I’ve written last year as voted on by all of you at home.

There were 47 voters in total.

Last year we had 59 people voting. Given that voting was opened up after the purge, I’d say those are great numbers, and an indication that we’ve been able to keep the large majority of the community in tact through what could have been a cataclysmic change. That’s a huge relief to me and I think it’s something worth celebrating.

So this year was interesting. The volume of my output was definitely a huge step up from the two previous years, and the overall quality of my stories was strong, with maybe only 2 or 3 entries I wasn’t too particularly proud of. But even those stories seem to be liked by you guys if I’m going by the number of votes they got.

The distribution of the votes this year leads me to believe that there were few far-and-away standouts among the herd. Unlike last year, where stories like Cheeks, Coming to America, and The Christmas Special 2 clearly came out as favourites. I think this makes sense, as I don’t think anything I did this year was up to the quality of those 3 stories, along with the less popular story from last year Smile, which is my personal favourite of anything I’ve ever written. Though a few stories this year really did come close, including one I would put in my personal top 10 or so, and which you guys seemed to enjoy quite a bit. But even with the tight scoring, I was able to see certain picks bubble up to the top slowly with each voter input.

A lot of the common themes of my work this year had to do with ideas like things being hidden suddenly coming to light, communities and/or unlikely allies working as one towards the fruition of this fetish, and the giant gap between the mediocre/mundane and the glorious/transcendental. 17 of the stories involved drugging. 10 stories involved consensual sex. And 2 of the stories stopped at voyeurism without sex.

There are about 8 stories this year that I’d put into my own personal top 50 list. About 1 I’d put into my top 10. And likely 4 that would make my top 25. My favorite stories were often at odds with what you guys seemed to like, but many of my favorites also received the highest share of your votes.

The one thing that I’ll be aiming for in future stories is to do more to flesh out the mom and bully characters. Looking back at my stories this year, only a few did this. And while I don’t think all my stories need this element, I feel like I should have made more in that vein this year than I did. Because of this, only about 3 stories had the grand and personal feel of stories in the past like Little Red Corvette and The Christmas Special part 1 and 2. To many readers, this is a good thing, as they like when the stories get to the point. But because I pride myself on the world’s and the nuanced emotional pallettes I’ve been able to create in the past, and I think they’re vital to the soul of my content, I’ll be trying to lean just a little more in that direction and make sure that at least 1 quarter of my output has that general feel in 2019.

But regardless. This past year has been a great one, and I’m really proud of what I’ve put out and happy to get all the messages I do from you guys about how much story x, y or z meant to you. Like I said, you guys keep reading then I’ll keep writing. So thanks everyone.

As for the order of the list, stories with more votes are higher than those with lower votes, obviously, but in the case of stories which tied with other, which accounts for most of the stories here, I put the ones with the lower notes(reblogs and likes) higher up on the list, under the logic that they had less readers overall, and therefore it’s more impressive that they got more votes given their limited reach or mass appeal.

Without further ado, I give you your list:

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29) The Ties That Bind

Votes: 1
Percent: 2%

Coming in last is a nice little story about a family that’s pulled apart by the same thing that brought it into being in the first place, the mom’s ass. The cruelty against the dad, the brother, and even the mom in this one was severe, but given the glorious nature of the mom’s ass, all that cruelty seems justified. All my stories are about a mom’s body betraying her and the trustworthy nature of her family unit, but it’s the fact that the outcome of this one hinged on a chance witnessing of momentary nudity makes this one a little different. And just like the mom’s ass is exposed in the beginning, the depths of the sons soul are laid just as bare before the story reaches its final word.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224620/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/179804238276/the-ties-that-bind-something-happens-to-you-when

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/05/the-ties-that-bind-something-happens-to-you-when/

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28) Every Nook and Cranny Redux

Votes: 2
Percent: 4%

A remake of a story from my bronze period, this redux improves upon the original in every way. It’s a story about unemployment, a form of emasculation that’s seldom touched upon in stories of this kind, maybe because it’s the most prevalent form and it hits too close to home. The bully’s success in his profession, and his success in maintaining an access to women are inextricably linked with one another by their very nature. All of this was apparent in the original. But where this story improves upon it is by making the son’s failure to find employment and sexual satisfaction vivid. You can feel his insecurity over being a bum who still lives with his mom. Likewise, you get a much better idea of just who this bully is, and even more than that, just how much the mom in question loves her son. And while her son doesn’t succeed in the end through any traditional means, he somehow manages to find his peace in ways my readers are used to reading about.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214003411/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/169803810841/every-nook-and-cranny-redux-you-were

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/01/17/every-nook-and-cranny-redux-you-were/

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27) Ink

Votes: 3
Percent: 6%

Everybody who has the pleasure to experience this fetish is intrigued by the idea of dangerous men. But some men are more dangerous than others. Some are so dangerous that they defy common experience. The bully in this story manages to put fear into the hearts of 3 adult males, leaving them without their masculine instinct to defend their mutual loved one. I don’t think I’ve ever written a story with this much hopelessness in it. And the lack of sunlight shining in through its cracks is contrasted beautifully by the proud upright position of the tattooed-stranger’s cock in the end. It’s a story about evil triumphing over the good in this world, and the exciting trouncing the mundane. Sometimes these two results are the same thing. And sometimes, it’s a mother of two’s mouth that is the battleground for these conflicts that are as eternal as time itself.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213232318/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/177848224181/ink-you-never-thought-youd-be-put-in-a-position

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/09/07/ink-you-never-thought-youd-be-put-in-a-position/

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26) Wind and Sweat

Votes: 4
Percent: 6%

This one was just a fun, light addition from me. It’s a story about how we define ourselves differently once we leave the grasp of our family unit. It’s about the new families that we form for ourselves away from home. The son in this one leaves unsure of who he is, and comes back, to a house without a brother in it, ready to express what he’s found. What he’s found is himself. And no one can stop him now.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214002739/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/174315410951/wind-and-sweat-it-was-perfect-just-as-you-were

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/05/27/wind-and-sweat-it-was-perfect-just-as-you-were/

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25) New Years Resolution

Votes: 4
Percent: 6%

Another one of my stories about making up for lost moments. This one has the distinction of also being about the hidden dark corners at the edges of jubilation. It’s about eschewing celebrating moments that are set out before you to celebrate by the cold and grey hands of convention and instead finding your own moments to count down to and to mark and measure your life with. When all’s said and done, that’s what this fetish is all about. Bucking tradition and celebrating while doing it.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214052029/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/170857183581/new-years-resolution-it-was-2-in-the-morning

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/02/14/new-years-resolution-it-was-2-in-the-morning/

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24) One-Side Meeting (Remember Me?)

Votes: 4
Percent: 6%

Imagine the feeling that you’re on the cusp of achieving victory against a foe. The battle had already been won years earlier, but now you were just there to meet your opponent face-to-face and let him know, with nothing more than a grimace on your face, that you had beat him and you were aware of it. But what if there was more than met the eye, and you were just the last one to get that memo? What if you only won the battle, and he was the one who touched that mountain peak of victory and won the war and the wire never got back to you? What if his victory was of a sexual nature, the best kind, and your humiliation was of that same substance, the lowest you can be made by any humiliation? Well, this story allows you to live it, in case you were wondering what it felt like. Boy does it feel good.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213231839/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176318244686/one-sided-meeting-remember-me-you-were

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/07/27/one-sided-meeting-remember-me-you-were/

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23) A Harold Bernstein Production

Votes: 4
Percent: 6%

I don’t think I need to spell out to you guys what events in the newspapers this one was in reference to. And I think the message of the last year or two’s biggest news story was clear: No matter how far you’ve made it up that ladder, it’s never far enough to keep yourself from being bested. The reference to my classic story Cheeks that I included in this one was appropriate, I felt, as that story precluded these scandals in Hollywood and even predicted them in a way. Whether the mom in this one was the literal Cheeks, or whether the similarity in nickname was more of a reminder that their fates are intertwined and molded by the same forces, it doesn’t matter. What matters are the implications that it has on being the son of a beautiful mother, at home jerking off, as your mother is apparently out conquering the world.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224621/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/179800810161/a-harold-bernstein-production-or-a-star-is-boned#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/05/a-harold-bernstein-production-or-a-star-is-boned/

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22) A Spot in the Shade

Votes: 5
Percent: 11%

This one was just a nice, breezy one for me, as relaxed in its approach as the beach house it takes place in and behind. It’s a vacation from my usual soul-searching. Sometimes a big, fat ass just needs to get fucked. Sometimes a son just needs to imagine himself in a situation like this, and what it would feel like to not do anything to stop it. In spite of all of this, the story still somehow manages to be rich in character and distinct. Much of this has to do with the nature of Blondie Fesser’s ass. The actions of the sons in my stories always feel justified, but in this one, he comes across as just another face in the party, looking for his own way to have fun.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214011721/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/175281275006/a-spot-in-the-shade-your-parents-were-throwing-a

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/06/26/a-spot-in-the-shade-your-parents-were-throwing-a/

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21) It Takes a Village II (The Stranger)

Votes: 5
Percent: 11%

The second in a trilogy. This one expands upon the conceit of the first one by making the title of the trilogy literal. While the mom in the first one has no quarter in the dark of the bar she finds herself being preyed on in. The mom here has no quarter anywhere. She lives in a small town with everyone she’s ever known, and ever single one of them is working against her. This ubiquitesness in the urge to see the mom get fucked by a strange man is more than just fantasy, it’s also a metaphor for our little fetish starting to hit it big in recent months, bringing even more into this worldwide community who may or may not have mom’s best interests in mind.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213231839/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176882256981/it-takes-a-village-part-ii-the-stranger-he-was

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/08/11/it-takes-a-village-part-ii-the-stranger-he-was/

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20) Lines and Curves

Votes: 5
Percent: 11%

And this one serves as another metaphor: the plotting for one’s mom to become an unsavoury character’s fuck doll becoming acceptable behavior to the good and genuine of this world. The figurehead for this being the teacher of course. He’s the one male figure in the son’s life not working towards ruining the son’s self-esteem and happiness. He’s a good person in every way, and I would say except for one, but his urge to see the recess monitor fuck the protagonist’s mom isn’t a blemish on his record, it’s a fetish that he’s entitled to, and it only makes him an even bigger ally to the son when all’s said and done.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213231839/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176058977736/lines-and-curves-mr-johnson-was-the-nicest#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/07/19/lines-and-curves-mr-johnson-was-the-nicest/

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19) Noon Tide

Votes: 5
Percent: 11%

I’m actually surprised by how relatively low this ended up on the list. Based on comments I received from many people, I was expecting this to be number 1. Either way, there really is nothing new about this one, at least plotwise. But what makes it so great is it’s sense of amoral heroism. It’s basically a remake of a classic of mine, Tomorrow the World, but it actively eschews the morals of the herd, and instead of settling into a nihilism birthed of indecision and weakness, finds a new moral code within the superstructure of personal strength and will to greatness. It needed a power-ass, like that of Jada Stevens, and it needed hapless foils, in the form of the mom’s 2 friends, in order to represent the lack of imagination and vision that’s commonplace within the general public, at least from the son’s point of view. The Noon Tide, a place of abrasive lighting and wild masculine energy, served as the manifestation of the son’s inner core, hidden by the veil of his meek, possibly pathetic, exterior.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224604/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/178714481751/noon-tide-it-was-only-two-weeks-ago-that-you

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/10/04/noon-tide-it-was-only-two-weeks-ago-that-you/

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18) I Spy With My Little Eye 2 (There’s No Place Like Home)

Votes: 5
Percent: 11%

This story, now that I think about it, is about globalization and rapid technological innovation. A globe-trotting mom who brings her body around to foreign locales that are in short supply of women who look quite like she does. It’s about the omniscient nature of the internet and the data contained therein. The internet almost makes the travel unnecessary, at least as far as the son’s wants are concerned. The reach of the mom’s body, as well as the depth to which she can be exposed in terms of state of dress, has only been multiplied infinite times by the nature of the modern world and its technology. This story is about the more organic and grassroots version of Big Brother that the mom in the first I Spy story was worried about. Now it’s not just the powers-that-be that can look into her most private moments, but the people of the world, including the most powerless, who are getting access to internet connections exponentially with each day that passes. In the first one the mom had to fear The Man, looking down at her naked body from above. In this one she has to fear the people watching her from underneath.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224721/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/178957411161/i-spy-with-my-little-eye-2-theres-no-place-like

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/10/11/i-spy-with-my-little-eye-2-theres-no-place-like/

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17) Flesh

Votes: 5
Percent: 11%

I was actually supposed to write this one last year, as a Christmas stocking stuffer that would be published at the exact same time as The Christmas Special 2. But I ran out of time. While this story is nowhere near the story that last year’s Christmas themed tale was, this one still has its unique charms. The psychology behind the colors actually holds true in real life. This worked well for me because I’ve always wanted to make a story about the nature of fashion and how it affects perception. And how the best-selected fashion ideally leads to nudity. I picked the best actress for the job of expressing these ideas. Ava Addams, whose body is so juicy and full that any minor change in its manner of dress is cataclysmic, and the transition from state of dress to state of undress, apocalyptic.

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/12/26/flesh/

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16) The Price of Fame

Votes: 6
Percent: 13%

An story I write where the son is in competition with his mom is going to be a good one. This one is about fame. As proven by thick instagram models, there’s no faster and easier track to fame than through a fat ass. Even talent can’t compare. Men who are rich and famous don’t even turn as many heads as a woman with a fat ass, regardless of her level of notoriety or fame. The son in this one, who is a nobody, let’s face it, lives under the same roof as the ass that can drive any man crazy and he knows its his chance at his own 15 minutes in the limelight. On top of all this, there’s an extra layer of meta-naughtiness included in this one One that I’m sure many long-time fans were excited to read.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224801/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/177493903956/the-price-of-fame-there-was-no-configuration-of

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/08/28/the-price-of-fame-there-was-no-configuration-of/

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15) Cut From the Same Cloth

Votes: 6
Percent: 13%

I haven’t been all too kind to the brother character whenever he’s included in one of my stories. This one was my apology for that. I decided to tell this tale of brotherly love and motherly sabotage through the medium of stage play, as I thought the snappy back and forth that served as a pressure cooker for the story’s mounting tension deserved its own space without being surrounded on all sides by flowery prose or a noisy internal monologue. And while I’ve never written a story that wasn’t a love letter to my mom, this is the one story I’ve written that I consider to be a testament to my brother. I think the most intriguing part of the story is how the bulk of the drama on stage ends up being as fake as a stage show itself. The one thing that’s real, which transcends the artificiality of the brothers’ conflict with each other, and of theatre itself, is their shared excitement at seeing their mom being fucked. And there’s nothing more wholesome and pure and real than that.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213232659/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/174585695171/cut-from-the-same-cloth-time-and-scene-430-in

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/06/05/cut-from-the-same-cloth-time-and-scene-430-in/

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14) Finally

Votes: 6
Percent: 13%

Another simple one, halfway in between A Spot in the Shade and P.A.W.G. Tax. But in my opinion, not as good as either. I’m glad quite a few people liked it though. If anything, that’s evidence to me that I shouldn’t shy away from writing a story just because I can’t find anything new to write about. The starting image and the gif at the climax on this one are great. The two stories that this one was similar to I just mentioned both starred Blondie Fesser. The ass in this one is like Burger King to Fesser’s Upper Manhattan Gourmet restaurant, and that’s actually a good thing. Just like that fat, gorgeous ass, this story gets by on its lowest common denominator charms. It’s cruel, it’s demeaning, it’s hot, it’s objectifying, and it gives up the goods. What more do you need?

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224421/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/180486986676/finally-he-thought-he-was-being-slick-instead-of

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/25/finally-he-thought-he-was-being-slick-instead-of/

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13) Consolation Prize

Votes: 6
Percent: 13%

My favorite aspect of this one is the torture the son puts the brother through. It’s that kind of delightful cruelty that I know fans of mine crave and expect from me. It’s one of my classic story-types, where a son is only a small handful of seemingly innocuous actions away from the everlasting-heaven/neverending-shame of having his mom be fucked. And like so many other stories, it uses the plot device of the brother being geographically removed from the proximity of the action by the flow of life, making him impotent in stopping it all, but in this day and age, not impotent in being made aware it’s about to happen.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224525/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/180078971866/consolation-prize-he-had-never-seen-your-mom

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/13/consolation-prize-he-had-never-seen-your-mom/

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12) It Takes a Village III (Conspiracy)

Votes: 6
Percent: 13%

The third in the Village trilogy and the most ambitious in its scope. What starts as a few incestuous threads of playful deceit and much-needed debauchery slowly blossoms into something much deeper. This is my Watergate era thriller where everyone is being watched, and nobody has the privacy or agency they believe they do. Nobody’s world is safe from being flipped upside down, and it becomes more glorious the more layers the reader peels through only to realize that the mom’s perfect white ass is the call and catalyst for all of it. If this story were published just 10 years ago, it would seem so unbelievable, but given the depths we’ve been exposed to regarding the realities of espionage between and within countries, as well as the depth of humanities’ strange sexual fantasies that my blog and others like it are a testament to, I’d say it’s naive to believe this story is anything but true to life.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224604/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/179766592636/it-takes-a-village-iii-conspiracy-it-was-a#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/04/it-takes-a-village-iii-conspiracy-it-was-a/

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11) Sundial

Votes: 7
Percent: 15%

I usually pride myself on my ability to be concise and direct with my themes and motifs, and though this story takes on a less polished tone in that regard, with it juggling such disparate concepts as the nature of time, the facade of the family unit, variation in female beauty and its effect on male psychology, the light of day as a revealer of hidden truths and intentions, and the draining nature of the work week on the magic of life; I still regard it as one of my best. The idea of the uncle fucking his brother’s wife as a replacement for his absence is biblical in its origin. But now that I think of it, so is light as a revealer. As is a break in the work week, concern over the corruption that comes as a result of beholding female beauty, and the finite nature of our time on this earth. Maybe that’s why it still manages to feel so cohesive even though on the surface these ideas bob in the water miles apart from one another. Maybe they’re all attached by strings to the same primordial truth deep down where the sea monsters eat. That would explain it, as well as why you guys seemed to like it as well as I did.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214004502/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/173723938411/sundial-the-sun-was-hot-on-your-head-and-the

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/05/09/sundial-the-sun-was-hot-on-your-head-and-the/

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10) The Shape

Votes: 7
Percent: 15%

My best holiday themed story this year, not only in the sense of its overall quality, but also in its ability to capture the feel of the holiday it uses as its setting. I designed the story to taste like candy and I think I succeeded. It’s the first and only horror story I’ve written since Ghooossstts! The villain wears a featureless, vaguely humanoid mask as if he represents and evil that we’re supposed to project meaning onto. In the end it becomes clear why that is. When the big reveal happens at the end, it becomes obvious that we had nothing to fear. The Shape, as I called him, borrowing the name from the movie Halloween, is a character that exists in all my stories. He’s a force of nature rather than a man, driven by one desire that is perfectly pure in its form but is perceived as monstrous and inhuman by a world a that doesn’t understand it. That’s why I chose to give him the mask. Because the trick behind Halloween is making you irrationally fear what you rightly wouldn’t on the other 364 days of the year: Looking at yourself in the mirror.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224604/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/179638977656/the-shape-it-didnt-take-long-for-your-mom-to#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/01/the-shape-it-didnt-take-long-for-your-mom-to/

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9) Something New Under The Sun

Votes: 7
Percent: 15%

Sunlight again exposes a once hidden truth in this modern classic. But unlike the truth of the mom’s ass being what it is, the truth of what happened to the brother that night, and the son’s reaction to it, doesn’t get back to the mom in time. Sort of like a payback for all the years of deception the mom perpetrated by donning conservative clothing. And in the end, the son had one truth worth informing his brother about. And just as the mom’s ass is exposed, the son’s dark intentions, in part, are also made the point of mockery for a few girls who witness it through the antenna that was his erect cock poking into the wet fabric of his swimming trunks. Again, this one has biblical roots, with its title being a parody, and refutation, of the phrase “nothing new under the sun” from the book of Ecclesiastes. The sun being used for the metaphor as it’s the main source for heat and light in our galaxy. And nothing exposes the human body and soul more than heat and light. The bible also says, what was once hidden will one day be seen.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214002933/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/171495708846/something-new-under-the-sun-your-mom-was-always

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/03/03/something-new-under-the-sun-your-mom-was-always/

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8) It Takes a Village

Votes: 8
Percent: 17%

The first in the Village Trilogy is definitely the best, and another one of my best stories. It’s completely devoid of flowery prose and it runs matter-of-factly through a wide cast of characters, all of whom are named and defined through their professions and/or actions. The mom is the only one who defies this. She’s named after her relation to her son and is defined by her limp inaction as a character. While the second Village is about a mom whose entire picture-book of loved ones works together to undermine her dignity, and the third Village is about interests below her level of awareness working together, though often under different flags, against her dignity, the first Village is the purest, in the sense that it’s the most modest in its expression of the trilogy’s general conceit. The mom is beautiful, sexy, vulnerable, alone, unconscious, and happens to be in a place where everybody except for one is working against her dignity. The sense of community feels pure and, in turn, the mom’s fate feels righteous.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214011721/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/175249308686/it-takes-a-village-when-your-mom-was-at-the-bar

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/06/25/it-takes-a-village-when-your-mom-was-at-the-bar/

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7) Gingerbread Mom

Votes: 8
Percent: 17%

Another one of my harder edged stories. A villain who feels evil rather than just garden-variety mean? Check. An early tone-setting threat towards the mom by the villain? Check. A father character who has something he’s done to the villain, involving a protocol breaking moral decision, to feel guilty about? Check. A mom who’s sexy enough that her being had by the villain would feel tragic? Check. A cold grungy location where the villain can take that mom in the end? Check. Happy readers? Check. The popularity of stories as mean as this is exactly why I love my fans so much. They have impeccable taste.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224726/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/178804006536/gingerbread-mom-as-funny-as-it-seems-its-rare#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/10/07/gingerbread-mom-as-funny-as-it-seems-its-rare/

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6) Winning the Motherload

Votes: 8
Percent: 17%

Speaking of impeccable taste, the opportunity to watch a white woman service a black man’s asshole with her tongue is the best reason to pay for an internet connection. The average black man in as recent as the 1960’s would be blown away if he could see what white women do for black men on videos intended for mass consumption. It would make his suffering seem small in that moment, knowing it would all lead to something like this only 60 years later. And even more than that, imagine the tears of joy he’d cry when he’d see a story like this so high up on my list, knowing that young white men were all jerking off to a story about their mom being made to eat out a black man’s ass. But that’s just the video. This story itself has the same sense of retribution and redemption as what I just described above in it. It’s about making up for past injustices. And isn’t that what this fetish is ultimately? Payback against society for allowing us to be bullied.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214040716/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/173422561911/winning-the-motherload-it-was-just-you-and-your

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/04/29/winning-the-motherload-it-was-just-you-and-your/

==============================================

5) 2 Ass Cheeks Name (Pride) and ( Joy )

Votes: 8
Percent: 17%

I’m surprised to see this one so high on the list. To be honest, I almost wrote it as a throwaway, something to just please the fans in the long stretch between two better stories. But should I be surprised that it’s so high? Maybe it’s the idea of the father of a beautiful young woman excited to share her for somebody who he knows doesn’t deserve her. That’s almost certainly it. And why shouldn’t it be? One day, out of those of us who manage to somehow pull it together and have offspring, some will have daughters of their own, who, when they come of age, we’ll fantasize, or even work towards, them being fucked by the worst of the worst. If we’re into this mom/bully fetish, it only follows we’ll be into a bully/daughter fetish one day. In that way, one is influencing and becoming the genesis for the other. And it’s that sense of the inter-generational passing on of this delightful proclivity that’s so well-represented by the son watching his grandfather’s tapes and becoming aware of his secret wishes, and doing his best to carry his grandfather’s torch into the future.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224744/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/178610549931/2-ass-cheeks-named-pride-j-o-y-theres#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/09/30/2-ass-cheeks-named-pride-j-o-y-theres/

==============================================

4) Ignorance is Bliss

Votes: 8
Percent: 17%

“Your mom was never the most attractive girl” isn’t the way I usually start my stories. But in this one, it added to the sense of indignity. Of course, her face was beautiful to the dad character,“but she definitely had the most legendary ass” not just to the dad, but also to everyone else’s eyes, including those who didn’t appreciate her for any other reason. Not one. The conniving and ruthlessly mean lies told to the girl with the okay face, the below average cunning, but the spectacular ass are truly delicious. Ignorance is bliss to the bulk of humanity who don’t even know this fetish exist, never mind can conceive of what it’s like to feel these beautiful things, but to those of us who sip from this gourd, discovery is truly blissful, at least when it’s discovering the absolutely meanness of the universe as it perfectly slides it’s eager and aching cock inside our moms as their fat asses ride above.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224639/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/179323102691/ignorance-is-bliss-your-mom-was-never-the-most#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/10/22/ignorance-is-bliss-your-mom-was-never-the-most/

==============================================

3) The Rights of Mom

Votes: 8
Percent: 17%

While I personally remain unimpressed with this one as a story, it’s popularity with you guys is nothing less than inspiring to me. Though it shouldn’t surprise me considering how many fans of mine turned out to be INTP’s according to my Myers-Briggs poll. I was afraid to write this one, fearing that in coming up with counter arguments against the son’s thesis I’d discover one that would shut him down in his tracks. But as I kept writing, I never did. No matter how well I argued for the opposition, the son always came out on top. The son in this was the Socrates to my Plato, and he was able to hold his own in the debate, not through any trickery of mine as a writer, but through the dictates of cold, hard, logic. The only thing that beats him in the end is a final emotional argument of seeing what he’s wanted finally coming true face to face. Which, don’t get me wrong, is completely valid, without a doubt, and probably for good reason. But I think the popularity of this story shows that many of my fans crave for these ideas to be explored and made sense of. And that’s important, especially considering that this fetish is only getting bigger by the day.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224453/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/180252247546/the-rights-of-mom-it-was-weird-not-once-in-your

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/18/the-rights-of-mom-it-was-weird-not-once-in-your/

==============================================

2) P.S. (Rabbit & Scout)

Votes: 9
Percent: 19%

I am so glad to see this as high as it is. This is my favorite from the year. It’s story was one of my most creative, and it dug deep into the nature of the mother-father-son relationship and its nuances. I still remember getting chocked up as I wrote the first letter from the dad. I almost cried. And I remember the feverish glee I felt as I wrote the second letter. I almost came. It’s this 1-2 punch of deep emotions and traditional obligations and morality followed by beautiful subversive debauchery and wrongness that separates my stories from the rest of the mom-bully output out there. Like I said, all my stories are expressions of my love towards my mom, Cut From the Same Cloth, was the same but towards my brother as well, and this is the same but towards my dad, who I hardly knew, or at least to how I imagine he was like. And just like the son in this story, I use my dad’s ghost towards my own end: the growth and cultivation of this beautiful community. He’s a ghost whose voice I use in my stories, whether or not he even has a line of dialogue. I use it because I want to see his wife being fucked without him being here to do anything about it. I use his memory because it’s just another artillery piece in my arsenal. And that’s something I’m truly thankful to him for. His wife’s ass is far from safe with me down here. Bye dad. I love you. I’ll make sure to “take care” of mom for you (I almost cried and came at the same time while writing this)

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213232555/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176046151276/ps-rabbit-and-scout-your-dad-died-in-the

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/07/19/ps-rabbit-and-scout-your-dad-died-in-the/

==============================================

1) P.A.W.G. Tax

Votes: 10
Percent: 21%

And coming in at number 1 with the most votes of all my stories this year is this delightful little tale. I’m not surprised, as I’ve gotten so many positive messages about this one that I would be shocked if it weren’t in the top 3. But why is it so loved? I think the keyword here is righteous. P.A.W.G. Tax, the name itself, implies that something is owed. Something is being made up for. And it’s this sense that the story conveys, that the son has the right to the fate of his mom’s body, that makes it so enticing and sexually liberating. This year we’ve seen the biggest expansion in popularity for this fetish since I started my blog. I don’t think it’s a coincidence then that my most popular story this year has a moment where the mom ends up being awake for something she wasn’t supposed to see, and she runs away from it in vain, because by the time she knows something is happening, it was already too late. This is how the world outside of the mom/bully fetish is reacting to the fetish as we speak. Society can try to run from it, but it’s already too late. And now it’s paying its tax for all the years we were shoved into lockers and tripped in the hallways. In at least a few thousand households worldwide, sons are lying to their moms in multiple languages as we speak, working their hardest to get them to let their guard down with a man they know isn’t right for her. Putting all they can into impressing her with a fake version of who he is. And the number is growing, and will only grow higher. And thousands of moms will become hundreds of thousands. Then millions. And a large fraction of all those attempts will be successful. And those of us who are hip, whether trying or successful, won’t be able to spot each other on the streets, though guesses can be made, but when online, the times it happened, and the times to come: her being wonderfully reamed by the men we hate most.

“Sorry, mom”

The story also addresses the growing influence of African American culture and its tastes. White women are now being held to the standard of much more shapely African American women. A white woman with a phat ass is not only quite the catch, but is now a symbol to be objectified the way you would expect from a rap music video and song. The commodification of the female lower-half, especially of white females, is something to be celebrated, and for those of us who have moms with especially prominent back sides, we can’t help but be grateful for where our culture is going, with or without our mom’s input. It’s no coincidence that the bully of the story is a black man. It’s the symbolization of it all coming full circle.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213232459/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176569067411/pawg-tax-you-remember-the-first-time-you-came

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/08/02/pawg-tax-you-remember-the-first-time-you-came/

==============================================

Okay guys, so that was my list. Feel free to comment about the order of the list, anything you were surprised by, or any of my thoughts about the stories and their placement. At the end of 2019, there’ll be another poll just like this one, but with a whole new set of stories for you guys to deliberate on.

If anybody is interested in what my favorite stories were this year, here’s my top 10 list:

  1. P.S. Rabbit and Scout
  2. Noon Tide
  3. Sundial
  4. The Shape
  5. It Takes a Village
  6. Cut From the Same Cloth
  7. Gingerbread Mom
  8. Every Nook and Cranny Redux
  9. Flesh
  10. A Place in the Sun

Thanks for voting guys, and I’ll see you soon with a new story.

End of The Year Poll (Best bluvelvet99 stories of 2018)

Vote for your 5 favorite bluvelvet99 stories.

So another 365 days have past, and that means there’s another round of stories completed. I’m proud to say that I was able to write many more stories than last year. 12 more to be exact. Bringing my story count to 29. My main muse Alexis Texas and her golden ass was used 4 stories this time around, but Blondie Fesser is catching up on that golden ass with 3 stories from me this year

So now I’m excited to see which stories you guys liked best. You can vote for up to 5 stories here: https://linkto.run/p/SOURSNZR

Please don’t vote for more than 5 or I’ll have to remove your votes. I will keep the poll up for a week at least, but likely longer. There will be a warning both here and on my discord at least a full 24 hours before I close the poll.

And if you don’t feel comfortable voting because you haven’t read all my stories or even because you’ve read less than 5 and don’t have time to read more, please vote anyways. I’d rather have your voice represented than hear nothing from you because you didn’t live up to some invisible standard.

So Happy New Years guys, I’ll see you on the other side in 2019 with new stories to tell and new horizons to reach for this fetish.

2 Ass Cheeks Named (Pride) & (J O Y)

Your grandpa sets your mom up with his insolent young coworker before you were born.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224744/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/178610549931/2-ass-cheeks-named-pride-j-o-y-theres#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/09/30/2-ass-cheeks-named-pride-j-o-y-theres/

=================================

A Harold Bernstein Production

A famous actress has another meeting with the most powerful producer in Hollywood. Her son watches from the banister.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224621/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/179800810161/a-harold-bernstein-production-or-a-star-is-boned#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/05/a-harold-bernstein-production-or-a-star-is-boned/

=================================

A Spot in the Shade

A strange man crashes your dad and mom’s party and slips something in your mom’s drink. You’re the only one who notices. Will it stay that way?

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214011721/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/175281275006/a-spot-in-the-shade-your-parents-were-throwing-a

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/06/26/a-spot-in-the-shade-your-parents-were-throwing-a/

=================================

Cut From the Same Cloth

You and your brother have deep-rooted issues with one another. Your mom invites the two of you to over to settle your issues over a plateful of her famous spaghetti.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213232659/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/174585695171/cut-from-the-same-cloth-time-and-scene-430-in

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/06/05/cut-from-the-same-cloth-time-and-scene-430-in/

=================================

Consolation Prize

A son introduces his mom to his brother’s charismatic friend while his brother is away at college.

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/18/the-rights-of-mom-it-was-weird-not-once-in-your/

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/13/consolation-prize-he-had-never-seen-your-mom/

=================================

Every Nook and Cranny Redux

It’s been years since you graduated college and you have yet to find a job. Your bully on the other hand has since become a dermatologist. Your mopm has skin.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214003411/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/169803810841/every-nook-and-cranny-redux-you-were

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/01/17/every-nook-and-cranny-redux-you-were/

=================================

Finally

A son witnesses his mom’s drink being tampered with on the beach.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224421/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/180486986676/finally-he-thought-he-was-being-slick-instead-of

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/25/finally-he-thought-he-was-being-slick-instead-of/

=================================

Flesh

It’s Christmas and a son buys his mom three outfits hoping to cast a spell on all who see her.

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/12/26/flesh/

=================================

Gingerbread Mom

Your dad is a defense attorney and his former client, one who he set up to fail, is now free. Him and your mom are on edge.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224726/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/178804006536/gingerbread-mom-as-funny-as-it-seems-its-rare#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/10/07/gingerbread-mom-as-funny-as-it-seems-its-rare/

=================================

I Spy With My Little Eye 2 (There’s No Place Like Home)

Your mom isn’t going on vacation this year so instead she’s going to a tanning salon to get her annual tan. But which one? You have a suggestion.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224721/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/178957411161/i-spy-with-my-little-eye-2-theres-no-place-like

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/10/22/ignorance-is-bliss-your-mom-was-never-the-most/

=================================

Ignorance is Bliss

Your mom and dad had a short breakup period when they were young because of a misunderstanding based on other’s lies. Another man finds a way to capitalize on it.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224639/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/179323102691/ignorance-is-bliss-your-mom-was-never-the-most#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/10/22/ignorance-is-bliss-your-mom-was-never-the-most/

=================================

Ink

It’s your mom’s birthday and all is going well until a strange tattooed man approaches your table while your mom is in the washroom.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213232318/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/177848224181/ink-you-never-thought-youd-be-put-in-a-position

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/09/07/ink-you-never-thought-youd-be-put-in-a-position/

=================================

It Takes a Village

Your mom is targeted by a man who slips something in her drink at your dad’s friend’s bar and the staff work together to help. Help who exactly?

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214011721/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/175249308686/it-takes-a-village-when-your-mom-was-at-the-bar

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/06/25/it-takes-a-village-when-your-mom-was-at-the-bar/

=================================

It Takes a Village II (The Stranger)

A strange man comes to town with strange intentions. His mom is his target. Little does he know he has a lot more help in this town than he realizes

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213231839/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176882256981/it-takes-a-village-part-ii-the-stranger-he-was

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/08/11/it-takes-a-village-part-ii-the-stranger-he-was/

=================================

It Takes a Village III (Conspiracy)

A pool party is being thrown. A son and his mother are invited and the son quickly realizes something strange is happening.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224604/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/179766592636/it-takes-a-village-iii-conspiracy-it-was-a#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/04/it-takes-a-village-iii-conspiracy-it-was-a/

=================================

Line and Curves

Your favorite teacher and the recess monitor you feared so much team up to exploit your mom’s ass.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213231839/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176058977736/lines-and-curves-mr-johnson-was-the-nicest#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/07/19/lines-and-curves-mr-johnson-was-the-nicest/

=================================

New Year’s Resolution

At the end of 2017 you fail to get your mom fucked. You make it your New Year’s resolution to get her fucked before the balls drops at the end of 2018.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214052029/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/170857183581/new-years-resolution-it-was-2-in-the-morning

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/02/14/new-years-resolution-it-was-2-in-the-morning/

=================================

Noon Tide

A son hears a story about how his mom was saved from a spiked drink one night at the bar by her two ugly friends. He bitterly resents them for it and plots to rectify that at the worst bar in town.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224604/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/178714481751/noon-tide-it-was-only-two-weeks-ago-that-you

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/10/04/noon-tide-it-was-only-two-weeks-ago-that-you/

=================================

One-Sided Meeting (Remember Me?)

A son sees his old recess monitor at a food court. As he waits in line, he can’t wait to get face to face with him and rub in the fact that he was fired from his job and now works here. Little does he know things are about to get a to more complicated.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213231839/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176318244686/one-sided-meeting-remember-me-you-were

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/07/27/one-sided-meeting-remember-me-you-were/

=================================

P.A.W.G. Tax

A son finds a way to make his mom pay for the crime of being white and having a big fat ass.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213232459/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176569067411/pawg-tax-you-remember-the-first-time-you-came

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/08/02/pawg-tax-you-remember-the-first-time-you-came/

=================================

P.S. (Rabbit and Scout)

You and your mom get a letter from your recently passed away father. You read it first. By the time the letter gets to your mom it’s twice as long.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213232555/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/176046151276/ps-rabbit-and-scout-your-dad-died-in-the

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/07/19/ps-rabbit-and-scout-your-dad-died-in-the/

=================================

Something New Under the Sun

You see how delicious your mom’s ass is for the first time when you go on vacation to a resort with her.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214002933/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/171495708846/something-new-under-the-sun-your-mom-was-always

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/03/03/something-new-under-the-sun-your-mom-was-always/

=================================

Sundial

A son accidentally sees his mom and dad having sex. He becomes addicted to snooping on them. When they go on vacation to the dad’s brother’s place, the dad is a few days late so the son can’t watch his mom getting fucked. Unless…

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214004502/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/173723938411/sundial-the-sun-was-hot-on-your-head-and-the

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/05/27/wind-and-sweat-it-was-perfect-just-as-you-were/

=================================

The Price of Fame

Your mom’s ass is famous. You, not so much. You find a way to use your mom’s ass to get your 15 minutes.

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/09/07/ink-you-never-thought-youd-be-put-in-a-position/

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/08/28/the-price-of-fame-there-was-no-configuration-of/

=================================

The Rights of Mom

A philosophically minded son chews over the morality of his fetish.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224453/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/180252247546/the-rights-of-mom-it-was-weird-not-once-in-your#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/18/the-rights-of-mom-it-was-weird-not-once-in-your/

=================================

The Shape

A malevolent figure stalks two mothers on Halloween night.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181213224604/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/179638977656/the-shape-it-didnt-take-long-for-your-mom-to#notes

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/01/the-shape-it-didnt-take-long-for-your-mom-to/

=================================

The Ties That Bind

A son sees his mom naked in the morning, leading to him making cavalier decisions that same night at a bar.

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/13/consolation-prize-he-had-never-seen-your-mom/

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/11/05/the-ties-that-bind-something-happens-to-you-when/

=================================

Wind and Sweat

Your dorm mate, while snooping through your computer, discovers your fetish. So you bring him home and to your mom after the term is over, just as your brother leaves to join the military.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214002739/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/174315410951/wind-and-sweat-it-was-perfect-just-as-you-were

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/05/27/wind-and-sweat-it-was-perfect-just-as-you-were/

=================================

Winning the Motherload

Your in Las Vegas with your mom and she sees a man from her and your father’s distant past. Things are about to get a lot less distant.

https://web.archive.org/web/20181214040716/http://bluvelvet99.tumblr.com/post/173422561911/winning-the-motherload-it-was-just-you-and-your

https://bluvelvet99.home.blog/2018/04/29/winning-the-motherload-it-was-just-you-and-your/

=================================

Flesh

Your mom was always a bland dresser, which was ironic, because your mom, body and soul, was anything but bland. And though it was both body and soul that she had a lot of, it was her body that people, mostly men, noticed first. Sometimes it was all they noticed. And it was her body that you had the most concern for. Christmas was coming up, and you wanted your mom to have a good one (soul), but you also wanted to get her something that brought her a few steps closer to that panoramic cliff’s edge, where she could slip off, her large breasts and smooth legs flailing through the obstruction-less air, into a wholesome sea of aggressive men below, with their aggressive arms, aggressive palms, and aggressive cocks, all three hard in contrast to your mom’s soft, smooth tits; pulling her in all directions using every part of her that had enough distance from her core to use for leverage.

Yes, this Christmas you’d get your mom something that would be a gift to her and you both. Her and you and all lucky men out there. And what do women love, and men love seeing on women, and sons love seeing men see on their mom? Clothing of course.

But you couldn’t just go out and buy your mom a Borat-style one piece bikini, as much as you liked to fantasize about her gallivanting up and down a crowded beach in one. It just wasn’t realistic. You cringed at the thought of her beaming face, daintily tearing through her own Christmas wrapping over a small box, and the sudden change in expression that would come as she lifted the little bundle of neon green strings up to eye level.

No, you’d have to play your cards right. You spent months leading up to December, starting in July, looking through every outlet and mall for the perfect piece of fabric to wrap around your mom’s pink flesh. You were blindsided by a revelation when the girl working at one store approached you, to your dismay, and began probing you about what you were looking for, hoping to help you in some way. Your cock got rock hard as you listened to her, and you hoped she didn’t notice your face becoming red-hot and forehead becoming sweaty.

This had been the first girl you talked to in years, other than mom of course, and you felt like you were going to orgasm just from the mere conversation. When she asked you who you were buying women’s clothing for, you almost embarrassed yourself by saying “it’s for me.” Luckily you caught yourself last second and instead you came up with “it’s for my girlfriend.” This pretty much made your chances with this woman non-existent, but you were kidding yourself if you thought you ever had a chance to begin with.

She said “oh, then maybe you don’t want to get red then,” and she laughed.

You looked at her baffled. “Why not?” almost afraid to ask, fearing you were out of the loop of some commonly known factoid all normal men and women were hip to.

“If you want your girlfriend to draw every set of eyes in the room, get her this red dress right here. You ever wonder why women wear red lipstick?”

You thought about it for a second, but nothing came to you. You didn’t even know where to start.

“Because red is the color of passion.”

“So blue then?” you probed shyly.

She made a buzzing noise suddenly, like you were a failed gameshow contestant. “Blue might be worse. At least with red, men will be intimidated by her. Blue doesn’t quite have the intensity of red, which is good if you don’t want guys to pay as much attention to her. But… it’ll make her approachable. Which is worse.” She smiled.

You just stood there.

“I learned all this in a Psych class,” she said, as if she could read your mind and the confusion therein. “Oh, and all of this works for guys too. If things don’t work out – I mean, I’m sure they will. You know what I mean though – try wearing red to work or school a few times, y’know, just to build a nice aura about yourself, and then come every once in a while in blue. The girls will be approaching you and not the other way around.”

Your cock twitched in your pants. Listening to a girl talk about your potential sexual exploits as if they could possibly exist was quite the thrill.

She continued “oh, and some black.”

“Black?”

“Yeah, it’ll make you look professional. Girls like that. But…” she thumbed through the rack, “you know, it’s also a slimming color on women and it might make your girlfriend look too serious for any funny business or flirting.”

That was the exact opposite of what you wanted. But you didn’t want to look suspicious. A part of you suspected that any moment this pretty girl would realize that all this about your girlfriend was a just a giant ploy to get your mom ogled at work and on the streets. So you bought the the first black dress she pointed to.

You kept your head down as you pulled money out of your wallet and handed it to the girl’s soft hands. She then said half-jokingly, “just make sure she doesn’t start wearing more red and blue. If guys see her in this” she held the dress up in front of her admiringly, “all the time, and then one day they see her in hot red without warning, they’re going to blow a gasket. ‘I never realized she was so sexy,’ they’ll say. And then they see her in blue and think ‘oh, she looks so nice and normal, like an everyday person, I think I’m going to talk to her.’ No, no, no. That’s a no-go. Strictly black from now on.” She said and smiled.

You forced a smile back, but deep down, you wondered, and hoped, that what she was saying was true.

As you left the store, arm pits damp with sweat, and your heart racing, you decided you’d do all your shopping online from now on. But you felt like you had caught your second wind with this new information at your disposal. You felt like a sly fox just knowing about the art of color and attraction. A hacker in the program of life.

You were able to find two more dresses online, both setting you back a pretty penny. Both low-cut, perfect for exposing your mom’s cleavage. But innocuous enough so that your mom wouldn’t realize you were making a carnival spectacle of her perfect tits. She would be starting a new job next year and the guys at her work would love her. You doubt they ever had a piece of meat quite like your mom, soft and warm, cramped in their offices in between their rock-solid bodies.

First a gorgeous set of tits attached to a serious and professional business woman. That’s how they’d see her 4 days out of the week. But on casual Fridays, there’d be a Russian roulette chance that she’d come looking like sex itself, a red ember, burning, even in their peripheral. Her comically large tits, no longer slimmed by the illusion of black fabric, and given their just-deserved framing in a border of bright attention-grabbing red. Men would glare, but they would keep their distance, held back by an invisible force-field that is the projection of their lizard brains. Unaware that she’s the same woman, regardless of what she wears.

Then on other days, mercifully for them, she comes in, and like a mirage a mile-off in the desert, she’s a cool shade of blue, beckoning thirsty men over through the hot sands. Her tits are the sirens on the rock surrounded by the blue Mediterranean sea, beckoning sailors over with the music of their size, shape and movement.

This was going to be great.

On Christmas day, she opened her present with greedy eyes. And when she got to the box and opened it, her face changed to an expression of strange bewilderment as she pulled out a bundle of fluorescent green strings, then letting it unfurl into a Borat-style beach bikini, she sat on the floor in silence.

Though part of you were hanging on by a thread, hoping that wouldn’t be the reaction, you began laughing, as you reached under the couch to pull out her real gift. Your mom began laughing to when she saw you pull out the red box. She threw the bikini over her back, her tits jiggling as she did, making you regret even more that you didn’t live in a world where that present was appropriate for a son to give his mother, and even more, a world where you could expect she’d wear that without seeing an issue in it.

Your mom had a second go and tearing open her gift. You clutched onto your Nintendo Switch box apprehensively. Her eyes lit up. “Nice!” she said as she held the black canvas, the same color as your intentions, in front of her face. She admired it for a bit. “This is perfect, sweety, thank you!”

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweety?” she said without looking up.

“There’s more.”

“What!?” She pulled passed another layer of cardboard, and her wide-eyes reflected the second gift’s scarlet back at you. It was the same color as your red-hot passion to see her wear it in public. “You’re too good to me.”

You were about to be even better. “Mom?”

She snorted to herself, half expecting it again. “Yes, sweety?”

“There’s more.”

She laughed as she dug past another layer of thin cardboard hiding the depth of your giving nature (giving in more ways than one). And her eyes were now reflecting blue back at you, like the sky and the ocean. The color of your calm knowing that you pulled it all off. “Santa Claus really is real,” she said, and she looked back up at you lovingly. You looked down at her tits as they jiggled at the rhythm of her pleasure wrapped in her plain-white pyjama top.

Professionalism

Your mom’s first stroll down the catwalk of her workplace turned plenty of heads. Her face was great enough, but her tits, which were held firm as her apparent resolve in the chest of her outfit, were the main cause for coworker rubbernecking. Visions of motorboating and suckling danced in their heads like sugar plums. Your mom’s sugar plums. All in all though, men kept their distance. Your mom always seemed busy, no matter what she was doing, and even those who dared venture toward her desk for small talk, felt like they were getting in the way of something important she was doing, even as she smiled up at them.

Three guys in the office in particular, men known for their constant need to score with women in the office, and not totally unsuccessful, but like all men, less successful then they’d like to be, which, like all men, was 100% of the time; they had their eyes on her. And while they usually had no problem rolling out their reverse three-stooges act in order to hattrick women, especially the new girls, behind locked doors with them, your mom looked like someone who would have them fired for bothering her. So they stayed away. 2 of them assuming they’d never see their chance. The other one hanging onto confident hope that their day would come.

Passion

And then one day, on a particularly warm casual Friday, she came in like a fireball, scorching the hearts and loins of all the men, and the envy of the women who had the double edged sword of blessing/misfortune of looking at her. She was impossible to ignore. Her tits bounced about with slight movements and her most benign statements felt dangerous and feral. She was all they all wanted but she was too hot to touch and they kept their distance, even more than usual. On that day, no man talked to any woman, as they were too sheepish to approach your mom, and too disinterested in any other female body there.

More covert pictures were taken of your mom then than on any other day. Most of all by our 3 protagonists. The fat one had a particularly good one of your mom bending over to grab a TSI report from the bottom shelf. He shared that one with his buddies, who all hooted and hollered at the bar after their shift.

This was what casual Fridays would be like every time your mom came in in that red outfit. Even after some of the guys built a rapport with her and they could joke and flirt on any other day, the red days always made them shrink. But boy did it build up the pressure in their pelvic region. One day, in one, or a few, of them, this pressure would blow. It was only a matter of time.

Approachability

It took a while for your mom to hit them with the finishing blow, but when she did, on that one fateful Friday in August, it completely knocked down the Tower of Babel erected from black and red bricks that loomed over all who witnessed it in awe and terror. It was now a blue heap of ash below their feet. Your mom had never made as many friends in her life as she made on that day. It was like a pressure valve had been released, and her male coworkers felt safe when rounding her desk and having their eyes fill with that calm, shapely blue. Her tits, looking better in this than anything else, now seemed like they were on their side. Almost as if she’d pull down her top and show them at the merest suggestion. They knew better of course, but the base feeling itself, and the relaxed atmosphere that her presence created, allowed for them to talk to her like they were her oldest friend.

This was when our 3 protagonists made their most headway. The good-looking one sat on her desk with his coffee and asked her how her day was going. When she said it was good and smiled, there was no sense that she was only being polite, or that there was any Mona Lisa malice in the way her lips bent. The funny one grabbed the back of her chair, stopping her slow rocking back and forth in its tracks. Before she could even turn around he had already landed a well-conceived joke. She looked up at him, laughing. The fat one stood there, seemingly harmless. Though with his phone, he was able to land an upskirt shot as she uncrossed and recrossed her smooth legs.

After making their good impression on her, they all huddled in the washroom at lunch time to see if her panties were blue also. They were slightly disappointed to see them, being the most boring shade of white is all. How could a woman with such flair for color not wear those colors where they really counted? If only they knew.

Your mom’s status as coworker, as sex pot, and as the sister-they-never-had grew and grew as the months past. Each one compounding and complimenting upon the others, building up a cacophony, an angelic choir, that danced in the heads of all the men in that office. But 3 in particular were able to make the most of it. So much so that her colored visage ended up being a factor in their car pool. On most days, she sat there, in any of 4 seats, looking like she was the First Lady being driven from checkpoint to checkpoint. But some days, she was like hot metal in the car with them. They didn’t talk as much on those days. They felt like even if she were to accidentally brush them with her tits they’d end up with burns. And then, always just in time, she’d be in their with them, in that aqua blue. On those days they had no qualms about putting their palms on her shoulder or back or kneecap whenever she made a joke. She didn’t seem to mind, nor would she have minded on any other day, but on blue days they just felt so safe doing it.

Things were going nicely for the most part. The one problem they could foresee, a problem they never had with any other coworker of the finer sex, was that the rapport they had built with your mom, being that it was mostly established on her blue days, ended up being without sexual tension, at least on her part. They had become her harmless friends, guys she could joke around with. And while their status as her friends, friend as defined by those who want the best for you, was clearly contradicted by the various candid photos they took of her, including up her skirt, and the things they said behind her back, both about her and her weirdo son who never talks, your mom was too cozy with them to feel anything more than a limp sense of comfort and good vibes.

This wasn’t the biggest obstacle as far as they were concerned though. If anything, they were in the best place they could be. Being in her friendxone meant she trusted them.

It was funny. The second you met those guys, you didn’t like them. You could feel their intentions dripping off of them. So when time came for your mom’s company Christmas party, and you watched them drive off with her in blue (which you recommended) in the back seat of the fat one’s car, you knew that something was up their sleeve. You could see it in their faces.

Her office floor was crowded with smiling coworkers, who’d normally be sitting at chairs, looking down at their desks where now plastic cups and liquor bottles took the place of TPI reports. Christmas music played over the intercom and guys leaned in to give your mom a hug when wishing her happy holidays. When men offered her drinks, her “friends” smiled, knowing what the intentions of such giving attitudes were, but the result would be that she was being loosened up for the three of them and the three of them alone.

After all, when she would start to feel too inebriated for the crowd, it was her friends she’d cling to for help. Her tits jiggled as she took shots and waved her hands in front of her scrunched face. At one point, her blue strap fell from her shoulder, and as she hopped up and down and waved her hands, trying to get a grip and not be dragged away by the strength of the vodka, her coworkers stared on, seeing that her right tit was less than an inch away from falling out of her dress.

She noticed with only a second to spare and she saved herself from embarrassment, and all of them from joy. When she felt a hand squeeze her ass, and she turned around to see a lineup of possible culprits, all looking off in other directions, she decided the night was getting to rowdy, so she got the attention of her friends, the only guys there she could trust, and they all went to their wing of the office, where nobody else was. All the other men watched as the good-looking guy and the funny guy had their arms around the small of your mom’s back and carried her off.

Everyone knew what was coming her way, but the horny men, because of the unspoken code of all men, didn’t want to cockblock. And the women, being envious of your mom and the attention she had soaked up like a sponge for the past year, relished in what was going to happen to her.

Serves her right for having those stupid fat tits, the women thought.

Serves her right for having those stupid-phat tits, the men thought.

Serves her right for being stupid while carrying around these fat tits, her “friends” thought.

Serves her right for having those stupid fat tits that were stupid-phat. Stupid mom, you thought, and you felt giddy and proud just thinking it. “Stupid mom with your fat stupid titties,” you said as you slowly massaged your twitching cock on your living room couch.

Not one person spared a thought to your mom’s soul. And thoughts were on her body in this very moment. And rightfully so. Your mom’s heart was big. But her tits were bigger.

Her “friends” got her to agree to 3 more shots after getting her away from the rest of the party.

And then everyone in the office knew that it was over when a blue dress shot over the height of the cubicle and latched itself comically onto the spinning ceiling fan, obscuring one of the light every time it passed over, making it impossible to not notice from the other end of the office exactly what was going on.

Your mom’s shoes went over next. And then her plain-white underwear and bra, without color or style, landed as meagre heap on the floor in front of the cheering crowd.

The suspense was unbearable, as images of what your mom’s tits looked like without that dress over them filled the minds every red blooded male there. Eventually, one person who was drunk enough, inched his way to the other side of the office. He could hear slapping noises, muffled mmmm’s and male voice going “yes, yes, yes” in hushed but deliberate tones.

He peaked around the corner to see it.

He gasped as he saw the 3 cocks invading her person, each one a different flavor like the 3 colors framing her tits. The 3 owners of those cocks looked at him and grinned. He knew they were too proud to be against him filming this magical moment. And he knew she was too deliciously liquored up to stop him. This was the most legendary thing to ever happen at this office. There was no way he’d let it be destroyed by the sands of time. He pulled out his phone to film. Your mom’s thick body filled his frame.

Professionalism

Her tits were comical as they bounced, in stark contrast to how they looked in black. There was nothing professional about her now. She had been ripped from that and had been made into a vector point for extracting pleasures of various kinds. There was a professionalism about it, but not in any traditional sense. She was a professional at giving up her holes, and her birthday suit was her uniform for doing so.

Passion

Her body was being invaded. There was nothing left of her to be intimidated by now. Her naked body screamed lust and passion and all the spices life had to offer. But now it was all out of her control. Instead of watching her from a distance, men would see her inches away from the camera as they watched this footage, getting to see every inch of her invasively and without any sense of danger. Just a comfortable set of mouse clicks away from watching your mom, naked and getting fucked, at their leisure. An open book of passion and flame that they’d have access to without limit or cost.

Approachability

And as more men joined the fray, it became just how obvious how approachable she really was in this moment. Is there anything more approachable than someone who barely knows you’re there? Your mom was the most beautiful empty husk in the world during this hour long hiatus from banality and expectation, and like any empty vessel, she was an instrument for their experimentation. And extension of their mad internal ravings. In her present state, without even one article of clothing to her name, she was the best and closest friend they ever had. A selfless good samartian giving her all to each and every one of them and asking for nothing in turn. She was a saint. And all without saying a single word or forming a single coherent thought. And what’s more approachable than that? To use someone’s very body, and the spaces inside it, all without one single negative judgment, not even internally and unspoken, from the person them self.

The spell had been broken. The code had been discovered, and all that wiry tension and anticipation and hope had snapped, clearing all its evil from the horizon. Above it all, after the widow black, the blushing red, the waterfall blue, and all the other colors in the rainbow and shades in the light spectrum, in the end, her most important color was the smooth pink of her flesh. It was the figure behind the curtain, now being exposed like a naked empress in front of her snickering court.

Exposed

Your mom without her glammer and glitz and flare. This was the real her. Not one thread disgracing her sacred body. Not one garrish crayon to desecrate the Mona Lisa. Just her, as she always was, and how she always should have been. Nowhere to hide. Nothing to improve or downplay. Nothing to contrast or expand her personality. Just her beautiful god-given form, laid bare like Eve before the apple, available for the whole world to see. Only in a world as fallen as this did you have to manipulate all the variables and soothsay all possible outcomes just to give the world your mom as she actually was.

And it was only because of the sin of clothing that you were able to give them more than just your mom as she was in her most natural state. You had given them your mom as she was on the inside. Not the inside of her soul. The inside of her body. Which was even more precious and profound. Your mom wasn’t any more professional than she was, which was a lot. She was no more a figure of passion and sex than what she already had to give. You shouldn’t have needed mental tricks to show the world she was easy to talk to and down-to-earth. All you needed was the color that represented her as she was. And that color was soft pink. The color of her flesh.

Rescue plan on Twitter

honedperfection:

The rescue plan now has a Twitter account: https://twitter.com/rescueplan

It would be a good idea to follow it or make a note of it today

It’s a safety feature. 
My intention is that every important announcement will be both here and on Twitter.  But if for any reason* my Tumblr account gets suspended or deactivated then further announcements will be on Twitter only 

Please be assured that people are currently working hard on making the rescue plan actually effective.  I will post with more information tomorrow and at the weekend.

Reblogs and retweets welcome.  But please do not send me any messages or questions on Twitter, I will not respond – all my time now needs to be spent helping the plan itself



* I don’t think I’m breaking any terms of service in my Tumblr account, but really, who knows these days?

honedperfection:

December 17th – a rescue plan

Some good news, I’ve been talking to two developers now and got them working together, we just had a meeting with the guys behind an existing large (millions of users) site similar to Tumblr, with a vibrant and open-minded community, and more importantly, it has open-minded owners who believe in free speech. They think we can get something done here to rescue the whole community.

I’m not allowed to reveal the site name yet. I can tell you it’s mainstream, open to everyone, open-minded and welcoming. (It’s not WordPress or any site owned by Facebook or Twitter. It’s not Pillowfort, that’s in closed beta. It’s not Ello, that’s mainly for artists. It’s not kinkspace or fetlife, those are too specialist. It’s not jux, that seems to be closed. It’s not Soup, that seems still in development and too small.)

One of the reasons for delaying the announcement for next few days is they don’t want a “land grab” where people take the names of current popular Tumblr users over there (cyber squatting). So they are looking at ways for existing Tumblr users to keep the same names on the new site.

More info over the days to come.

The plan is, broadly:

1. By December 9th, announcement of the new site and how to secure your username there

2. By December 10th, an online tool for bloggers to copy their existing content to the new site automatically, with the same tags and captions.

3. Bloggers will need to copy their content across between December 10th and December 17th if they want to use the automatic tool.

4. My understanding is that after December 17th there will be no public access to any “flagged” posts on Tumblr, but the original poster will still be able to see the flagged post (for a short time at least). Therefore, the original poster may still be able to manually download a post to their own PC or phone, after December 17th, and manually upload it to the other site. But if you have lots of posts that will take a long time, it will be better to use the automatic tool before December 17th.

Please understand that these dates are approximate and may change for technical or other reasons.

There may be a few rough edges or not so perfect looking site design on the transfer tool. Everyone is doing their best. The main goal here is to help as many people as possible preserve access to their content, in the short space of time Tumblr has allowed us, and preserve as much as possible of the Tumblr community spirit somewhere new.

The new site will cater for photo, GIF, text and html posts. It will not offer video and audio posts, due to cost reasons – maybe in future, but for now you will need to preserve video and audio content yourself in some other place.

If your Tumblr blog has a mixture of original content and reblogs, or all reblogs, all of that can be copied over to the new site. Reblogs will become “your” original content if nobody else posted them yet, otherwise they will be shown as reblogs. The devs are looking at ways to preserve attribution of reblogs back to the original Tumblr poster, if that person also moves to the new site.

Important: your Likes cannot be copied from Tumblr to the new site. You will have to go find the same posts again on the new site, and like them afresh.

(Similarly, existing reblog comments, asks, messages and other user interaction on Tumblr cannot be copied to the new site – that’s just too much to do, in the short time available.)

If you want to preserve any of your existing Liked posts on Tumblr, you will need to either: (1) download the post to your own PC, or: (2A) reblog it now to your own Tumblr blog, and then (2B) use the automatic tool, before December 17th, to move your whole Tumblr blog across to the new site.

If you have Liked a lot of posts here on Tumblr, the gridllr.com webapp should be able to help you do steps 1 and 2A quickly, I mean download or reblog.

(Someone complained to me today about the appearance of Gridllr on a phone. It’s best to use Gridllr on a PC, Mac or Tablet with a large screen.)

If you have liked a post here on Tumblr and the original poster decides to delete it, or even to delete their entire blog, some time before December 17th, then that post will be permanently lost. So if you want to be sure to preserve any of your Liked posts, you should best download or reblog as soon as possible. If it’s reblogged to your own blog it is safe from deletion, at least for next few days.

Obviously, you will lose access, after December 17th, to all past posts you have liked, if Tumblr has flagged them as NSFW. Again, the steps (1), or (2A) and (2B) covered above will be the only way to hold on to these posts.

Hopefully all of this comes to fruition. but in case it doesn’t, make sure to back up your info with the tumblr export function (google it if you don’t know how) and the link i posted before this post for the tumblr backup program. But if all that was said here is true, it could be a lifesaver

TumblThree – A Tumblr Backup Application | www.jzab.de

If you guys want a way to back up your tumblr data, try this program out. I noticed that when i backed up my data using tumblr’s own export function, i don’t think it gave me data for the posts i wrote under images i reblogged from other blogs.

This program did do that, and it did it in a much shorter time.

Just make sure that after you download and install it, go to the settings and check every box that pertains to things from your blog you’d like to keep. Including image metadata, which i believe is the text in all your image and gif posts.

Even if you’ve already used tumblr’s export function, i recommend this program to cover your bases. And if you use this program, i suggest also using tumblr’s export function for the same reason. 

(When your blog is listed on the programs main section, double click on it to start the downloading or add it to the queue of what’s being downloaded. It should appear on the right side if it’s downloading.)

TumblThree – A Tumblr Backup Application | www.jzab.de