Conversationalist

Dear Mother,

Please accept my apologies for the rather tardy reply. All I can offer as an excuse is that as you will discover herein, I have been extremely busy and some really exciting things have been happening lately.
But before I begin, I will try to stray from my selfish tendencies and ask how you are. How are you? Have you managed to garner any more interest in the house sale? I hope the mess I left in the garden hasn't caused any problems. Is everything OK with my dad after he came round and smashed the back window that night? I know you feel like you hate him but he just has an obscure way of showing his affection. Hopefully one day we'll all be able to meet up and get along for at least the duration of an afternoon.
Things are going really good for me at the moment and I hope they are for you too. Work's been treating me really well - in fact I was given a promotion two weeks ago so now have my own briefcase and a computer. I feel so important. However there is something that I am ultimately proud of, something that I am sure you will take pleasure in finding out too.
You know more than I do that you keep forcibly asking me whether I'm courting. I know that you, as well as I, have had suspicions that I might turn out to be a poofter. It's not been the easiest route, and things have taken a lot of time. But eventually I have at this latent age, developed my first relationship with a woman.

I could go on for ages about her and probably will do. Therefore I hereby apologise for rambling on for the duration of this correspondence. Accept my apologies (once again) and suffice to say that I am completely enamoured with this woman.
I met her at work, she started a few weeks ago and is quite a bit younger than me. However she's really beautiful and I can't stop thinking about her. I've been seeing quite a lot of her recently although she doesn't always return contact (apparently women are like that sometimes!) Initially after my job promotion I was made the boss of a certian work area, of which she was staff. That gave me an excuse to talk to her. Even though all we conversed about was work oriented, I kept feeling strongly that I was drawn to her and needed to talk with her about other things, personal things. I perceived that she was interested in pursuing the same with me, but it was hard to judge as she is a very focussed person (and the daugther of the company manager so in quite a professional disposition).
Eventually I plucked up the courage and asked her to stay behind after a meeting, something she did somewhat begrudgingly. I didn't really know what to say and her apparent lack of interest made me feel more uncomfortable. After much hesitation I asked her if she would like to go out with me 'or something'- to be honest I don't really know what it would entail, or how I would go about 'going out' with someone. At first she laughed and said I was a repulsive nerd and needed better shoes. Something that didn't even get past the surface of my emotions as I was so besotted with her. Added to that, people have told me that most times with women, 'no' means 'yes' and vice versa. Perhaps you could confirm that for me, being a woman, before I get into any trouble?
Anyway, I would have thought that those events should have discouraged me from pursuing any interest in her. Conversely, the interest grew and I began to classify it as a mild obsession; in a completely positive way. I remember thinking how great she could be for me; motivating, loving and so focussed. I recall that I was scrambling through my mind in order to find a way of showing my true self to her, some way that would make her like me. I couldn't help but spend hours looking her up on the internet and finding any scraps of paper at work that might relate to her in some way.

I passed her in the street a few weeks later, she was with some guy. It made me infuriated at the time but she glanced at me in a dejected, longing way. Like she was unhappy with this guy and wanted me to rescue her. Things like this kept happening, sowing the seed that she yearned for me as much as I did for her.

The next week at work I noticed she was spending quite a lot of time in the solitary environment of the filing room; I could see through the small square of security glass when I walked past. Call me a weirdo, but I kept walking past with no objective just to peer in at her, wearing her bright hair up in a bunch and a short dark skirt with her tighted legs on display. Finally I found a reason to retrieve a file, so entered the room in which she was so seemingly imprisoned. She offered me a flat smile which made me think that she was hiding something, some emotion, from me. I didn't smile at her but asked her if she liked me. Similar to my first encounter with her, she tried to deny it and said that she found me disgusting. Rather than make me walk straight out, this derrogatory comment lured me in; I knew that she was simply resisting the truth and her own emotions. I found myself leaning over to her and putting my hands round her waist. I didn't even look at her expression as I pushed my face toward hers and mimicked the lip action that I had seen so many times in movies. I didn't even know if it was the right way to kiss, but her squirming and squeals seemed the right reaction to the right action. I carried on and she tried to resist; all I could keep thinking was 'no means yes'. It felt like a struggle but in plenty of the films the woman would be like this. So although it was a bit disconcerting and her screams were loud, I knew they were pleasurable.

I didn't even know where to put my hands but I felt them circling her small, young breasts; I grabbed at her chest and she recoiled in what possibly could have been an orgasm. My hands slid back down to her waist; again I didn't really know what I was doing; but felt intuitively led by a tingling sensation in my penis. I began to thrust my groin into hers, pushing her up onto the nearby desk as I did so. Her muffled screams and cries for help spurred me on, I could tell that she was loving it. I wanted to be quite romantic so grabbed roughly at the waist of her tights and skirt, pulling hard as I did so. The tights gave way and ripped; her skirt flopped after.
The sight of her underwear excited me, I found myself instictively grappling with the frilled lace of her knickers, using my mouth. She was squirming more than ever by now, so I knew I must be on the right tracks. I managed to tear her underwear off after a couple of failed attempts. I had to keep pushing her back, holding her arms and thighs to stop her from falling off the desk in a fit of pleasure. I stood back and looked at the hair laden mound between her legs. As you know I had seen pictures before but nothing could parallel this experience. As I forced my face into her groin, the smell, taste and texture was absolutely divine. Again, you know that I had always wondered what a girl's vagina smells like but the reality was nothing that I could have prepared for. I became increasingly aroused, and could judge how I was pleasuring her by the reaction she was displaying.

Initially she was moaning and lightly struggling. As I began to put more effort and be more forceful, her reaction intensified. Shortened, panting screams of satisfaction came from her mouth as I nibbled at the pink, soft flesh. My penis was tingling even more; I found myself violently biting and pulling at her womanhood with my teeth. Her screams sounded concerned but I continued to tear her sexual flesh with my teeth. A few drops of blood had gathered on my tongue from her ripped, soft flesh - which I promptly swallowed. I stood up to admire her form; the scent of vagina still present in my nasal cavity. She stared at me with a look of respect, but her arms were quivering as if she was in shock. I thought that I probably gave her an orgasm and that's why. She began to stand up and whispered that I was a bastard; again I remembered 'no means yes', so impulsively pushed her down to the desk again. She was essentially begging for more.
As I had seen in pornographic films, I rolled her body over so that she was bent over the edge of the desk, face down, her bottom and bloodied vagina protruding from the edge of the furniture. She moaned and feigned resistance; something I had also seen in the films when things were going well. I knew what I had to do next; my animal instincts had taken control a while ago but I had held back in a civilised manner.

After promptly unbuttoning my trousers and revealing my hardened penis, I tried to find where it should go. The feel of my manhood pressing into her damaged vagina was out of this world. I started rocking backwards and forwards like I thought should happen, and I felt my penis edging into her. It felt so good, like a crescendo of everything I had ever hoped for. The deeper I felt myself intruding, the more she gasped and struggled; it felt so honourable to pleasure her so deeply in this way. I couldn't help myself accelerating the swaying, I began to gasp and moan in time with her. She seemed to be sobbing tears of joy.

It just seemed to get better and better, and when I felt myself ready to ejaculate I pushed myself as far into her vagina as possible; something that was met with a shrill shriek. My groans echoed through the filing cabinets as I showed her my ultimate affection by depositing my sperm inside her. It seemed to go on forever, eventually though I had to withdraw my penis, by which time had shrunk to a normal size. As soon as I did so, a beautiful trickle of semen mixed with blood from her gnawed vagina ebbed it's way down her thigh and mixed together in a small pool of pink liquid. She had stopped thrashing now, and I assumed that I had definately given her an orgasm.

I didn't (and still don't) know the etiquette of sex so left her to put her own clothes back on. As I pushed my moistened manhood back into my underwear and buttoned up my trousers, I leaned toward her panting mouth and tried to kiss her. She pushed me away and called me a fucking cunt; it made me feel good that she seemed to have enjoyed it and was trying hard not to show it. I stroked her damp crotch and ambled my way back out of the filing room. I felt so good and refreshed; as if a certian path of my life had just begun.

Unfortunately I had to spoil the romantic moment as I needed to return to the room again and remind her about a deadline. As I went in, she was gathering her torn clothing from the floor and crying quietly; it seemed as if she had experienced it as a similarly life changing event. Indeed, I found myself close to tears in the beauty of the occurrence. She jumped back as I entered the room again and began to plead with me. However I wasn't going to do it again, regardless of how strong her pleas were - I had finally lost my virginity and wasn't about to jump into the situation again - I was worried that I might never stop! I reminded her of the deadline and thanked her for the brilliant sex but didn't tell her it was my first time. She appeared confused as I walked out; perhaps she realised I was a virgin anyway?

Since that day she has been really playing it cool, no matter what I do for her. I tried to ask her out for a meal, and I bought her flowers (because that's what women like isn't it?) but she actually threw them back at my face and started crying. In the middle of the office. For the rest of the week she wasn't in work, and in a strange twist, the police have taken an interest in our relationship. I did consider that she might be underage but checked on her various profiles on internet sites and other bits of information I could find out about her. I have to go and talk to the police further but it seems ok. I think that her father (manager of my company) has some links with the police and obviously fathers can be very protective figures. Anyway I'll see how that pans out and I'm sure I will let you know in my next letter soon.

I do hope that you don't find my letter far too vulgar, but as you said last time we met, there should be no taboos between mother and son. I interpreted this as meaning that no crudities can exist in such a relationship and that we are free to discuss anything. Particularly I would be interested in finding out about when you lost your virginity. Was it to my father? How did you know that he was the one? While I was having sex, it dawned on me that she probably was the one. I imagined what our children would be like. Is that how you know?

It feels such a relief to tell this to someone, I really do hope you don't mind but it's such a big thing for me at this age. It seems that I got such a huge amount of pressure, some of it from you and my father, to start seeing girls and have sex. If you still feel the same, you must be so proud. You know that I don't contact my brother after he beat me up when he thought I was gay; but if you do bump into him please let him know that I have followed the righteous path of manhood!

Well as I said before, I hope everything is going good and I look forward to seeing you next, whenever that may be. Every day the meaning of life becomes slightly more tangible...

Much Love,
Son
x

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