A Wad for Wifey CH. 01 by D10Sizemore
Indulge in a seductively erotic tale of self-pleasure and desire with "Wad for Wifey CH. 01" by D10Sizemore. Follow along as a husband's solo session takes an unexpected turn, satisfying both his urges and his wife's fantasies. Get lost in a world of temptation and pleasure with this steamy masturbation story.<br/>
Sid’s mother insists he gets help with his overly active semen production. , Disclaimer: A Wad for Wifey is a work of fiction. All characters are at least 18 years of age and any resemblance to individuals, either living or dead, is purely coincidental. If you are offended by stories containing sexual content please do not continue.
A Wad for Wifey: Chapter One
Seeking a Diagnosis
What an odd scene: a lone young man seated in a doctor’s waiting room surrounded by women of all ethnicities, shapes and sizes. Sid Harman was that 18-year-old boy — to his left sat Trish Harman, his stressed-out mother, and to his right, an obviously pregnant woman squirmed from one hip to the other, trying to find a comfortable position.
“Sorry,” she said to those near enough to hear her.
“No problem,” Sid whispered back, not quite sure why he suddenly felt like he was in a library.
Leaning forward, Mrs. Harman peered around her son to see who he was talking to. She smiled at the 30ish Hispanic woman and nodded politely. “Been there — these chairs are the worst. My hips are hurting and I’ve not been pregnant for many years. How far along are you?”
The question was much appreciated and helped the woman think of something other than her aching backside. “I’m due in two weeks. Can’t wait to get this one here,” she said, patting her belly lightly.
“Is this your first?” Sid quietly asked, knowing that was always the next question in this line of inquiry.
“Oh…no…this is number three. I’m a veteran,” she jokingly retorted. “My twins are with their grandma today…thank goodness. Funny how even a trip to the doctor can seem like a break.”
“Indeed,” Trish noted, smiling broadly. “I’m Trish and this is my son, Sid,” she said while extending her hand, nearly brushing Sid’s crotch.
“Oh, great. Nice to meet you, and I’m Marie.” The women shook hands and further exchanged pleasantries.
“I’ll bet you’re excited to…blah, blah, blah…”
Sid found himself sitting between the two ladies as they swapped motherhood war stories. Both of them gradually leaned further and further over the young man’s lap to avoid speaking too loudly. At first, Sid feigned interest in the discussion but soon found his mind wandering…at no fault of his own. Surely, by coincidence alone, Sid faced a dilemma…no, make that four dilemmas. With his mom and new-found friend bent as they were, the boy was treated to a rather impressive display of bulging breasts. To stop staring would have been impossible…if not downright rude. To be engaged he had no choice but to look from one set to the next — any other option would have craned his neck causing possible bodily harm. Well, that settled it. Checking out his mother’s tits and the preggo’s was medically necessary. No, doubt the women would see it that way, as well. How could they not?
His mother had dressed as she normally did for a warm spring day; wearing knee length spandex shorts and a scooped necked t-shirt that framed her ample assets as if on display at the Louvre. It wasn’t the first time Sid had appreciated her flawless orbs and freckled cleavage. Since moving from North Dakota to Scottsdale, his mother’s wardrobe has changed significantly. Gone were the full length jeans, wool socks, and thick flannel shirts. Instead, she had adjusted well to Arizona attire, which was far more sexy than Sid was accustom. In the three months they’d been there, Trish had crafted a beautiful tan, tightened her ass with daily squats, and filled her closet with shorts, T’s, and all sorts of light cotton sundresses.
Mrs. Harman’s flat stomach, firm breasts, and nicely contoured clothing were amusingly contrasted by Marie’s garb. She was casually attired from head to foot in an outfit that screamed ‘I’m nine months pregnant and just don’t give a shit.’ Sandals clung loosely to her tanned toes. The shoes were wide, and open enough to encase the woman’s swollen feet. She wore sweat pants that may have been her husbands, and a tank top that was stretch to its tensile limits, both around her bust and belly. Bra straps dug into her soft shoulders, leaving red marks – the result of the bra performing an overwhelmingly difficult task. You see, Marie’s boobs were large, full and appeared ridiculously heavy. They were so much so that they rested on her baby bump, and as she bent over, her belly pushed them up and out of the shirt’s neckline.
From any of the casual observers in the waiting room, Marie’s light chocolate tits must have looked like they were spilling into Sid’s lap. There was side and top boobage overflowing everywhere, but she seemed oblivious to the spectacle and the exposure she was offering the teen boy.
The conversation seemed to go on forever…or at least it felt that way to Sid. The longer they talked – the longer his cock became and the less he could hide his state of excitement. He shifted a bit and reached for a magazine to nonchalantly place on his lap. The movement did not go unnoticed by Sid’s mom, who placed her hand on the boy’s knee and squeezed a bit more than she needed to.
“Um…are you okay?” Trish asked.
Stuttering, Sid choked out a reply, “Me? Oh…yeah…just these chairs – like you were saying – they’re pretty uncomfortable.”
“Well, okay. I’m just worried about you,” she continued, rubbing his leg more gently now.
“Mom,” Sid gushed, while making sure the mag didn’t fall off his lap.
Suddenly, Marie placed her hand on Sid’s other knee and spoke to Trish in a hushed tone, “Is your boy ill? I thought you must be here for yourself. I didn’t know Dr. Harjob saw male patients.”
“She normally doesn’t, but as a favor to me she agreed to see Sid today. We hope it’s nothing serious.”
Turning her attention to Sid, Marie spoke even quieter, “You look perfectly healthy, Sid. Are you not feeling well?”
Sid tried to reply but his mother beat him to it, “It’s probably nothing, but…but he’s having a problem with his…ah…reproductive stuff.”
“Mom! You’re embarrassing me,” Sid exclaimed, still making an attempt to keep the conversation strictly between the three of them. “I’m not having trouble with my stuff.”
“Oh, Dear, I think you are and I’m sure Dr. Harjob will be able to sort it out.”
Marie leaned in even further, her breasts now pressing the magazine down against the boy’s package. She was intrigued more than she should have been. “I hope you don’t think me forward, but do you mind me asking what kind of problem? It would be a shame for such a young man to be infertile.”
The question made Mrs. Harman smile, a wickedly delicious smile. “On the contrary, Marie. Sid, I believe, has the opposite problem.”
“The opposite problem? You mean he…”
Marie’s next question was thankfully cut off by a short, elvish looking receptionist. “Sid Harman…Sid Harman…you can come with me now.”
Thank heavens, Sid thought, tossing the reading material aside to push his way through the women. As he did, the bulge at the front of his pants captured Marie’s gaze…and imagination.