Crazy Sex Adventures(Erotica)

Introduction: To stay out of hell, he’ll have to stick it in his sisters.

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Anyone who’s read my stuff knows I like it when things get a little goofy. Well this is definitely the silliest story I’ve written so far. If everything must be super serious, this story is definitely not for you.

Everyone is over 18.

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Mary had a problem: her 19-year-old son, Michael, would not stop masturbating.

Mary had never had this problem with Michael’s three sisters. They weren’t jamming their hands down their pants every free minute they got. Mary, herself, had certainly never done such things. She was sure that her John had not, as well, when he was alive. How else had he gotten her with child in such quick succession? A family of four children in four years was the sign of a truly moral man.

Mary found out about Michael’s habit in the usual way. She went into his bedroom to pick up the laundry and there he was, jamming on himself like a deranged animal. It was horrible, and she told him to stop immediately. Mary was angry at her son, of course, but most of all she was scared. She knew what Michael was doing was a terrible sin.

But Michael kept masturbating despite the impending doom it implied. He did his best to hide his activities. But once Mary knew the signs – the closed door, the loud music, the mysteriously sticky underwear and the vast consumption of tissues – she was always able to catch him.

Mary started off being kind. She patiently explained that it was natural for a boy Michael’s age to have urges, but that God wanted him to remain pure. Then Mary threatened her son, telling him that every ejaculation would lead him one step closer to eternal damnation. She even tried punishments, ordering him off to bed without dinner as soon as she saw what he was up to. But everything she tried only seemed to make him do it more.

With nowhere left to turn, Mary went to talk to their family priest. She was embarrassed, of course. Admitting that she couldn’t control her son, keep him on the moral path, made her feel like a failure. But Mary needed Father Donovan’s wisdom more than her pride.

They met in his private office. Everything smelled slightly of old books and fresh potpourri. Sitting on the far side of Father Donovan’s oversized wooden desk, Mary told him everything.

“I’m sorry Mary,” Father Donovan said, “I know that losing your husband so young was hard for your family. Michael in particular. But masturbation is a sin. God is very clear about this. Man is only permitted to ejaculate inside a woman’s vagina. Not in his underwear, a tissue, his own hand, or… Well, anywhere else he might think to put it.”

“But he’ll go to Hell,” Mary said and sobbed.

“That’s why he needs your help.”

*

The long drive home gave Mary plenty of time to think about her problem. Could she wrap Michael’s penis in something that kept him from touching it? What if she made sure someone was watching him all the time? It all sounded so stupid and ridiculous. Mary was failing her son and she knew it.

And then it came to her. Father Donovan had not said that Michael couldn’t masturbate. The act itself was fine – it was the result, and what Michael did with it, that was the problem. Mary simply needed the appropriate receptacle for her son’s spend. And wouldn’t you know it? She had three of them just waiting for her at home.

*

Mary asked the entire family to join her around the kitchen table. The first to come down the stairs was her oldest daughter. Hope was 21, tall and thin with dark brown hair that she always kept tied up in a ponytail. She was wearing a pair of sensible slacks with a sweater over a button-down shirt.

Her middle daughter, Chastity, came down next. She was 20 and about medium height with bright blonde hair that ran in rings to her shoulders. She had a broader build, like her father’s. Chastity was wearing a light blue sun dress that probably showed a bit too much of her large chest and shapely legs.

Finally Tabitha, the youngest at 18, entered the room. With light brown hair down to the middle of her back, she was a bit shorter than Chastity and a bit curvier than Hope. Especially in the hips. She was wearing a t-shirt with some cartoon character on it and a pair of ripped up jeans.

All three were very pretty girls – bright. Hope and Chastity were both top of their classes at college nearby, and Tabitha was in line for a scholarship to Villanova. And all three of them were single. It wasn’t appropriate for such young women to have boyfriends. But Mary knew each would make an excellent wife sometime in the future.

Once everyone was seated, Mary called Michael into the room. At 19, he was tall and muscular, though often clumsy – like a boy trapped in an adult’s body. It didn’t help that it seemed like he’d outgrown his clothes overnight. Everything was just a tad too tight on her son’s body.

Michael’s unruly, curly brown hair bounced as he flopped into his seat. He clearly thought he was in some kind of trouble. Mary smiled – he was going to feel much better once she told him the good news.

“As all of you know, I’ve been struggling with how to deal with your brother and his little problem.”

“Moooom,” Michael said, burying his head behind his muscular arms, “Why are you always talking about this? It’s so embarrassing.”Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

“If you could control yourself we wouldn’t have to talk about it,” Mary said.

“It’s OK, Michael,” Hope said, kindly. She had stepped in as a surrogate second parent for her younger siblings after their father had died. “It’s perfectly natural to want to do things like that. Especially as a young man.” As always, Hope had a serious look on her face. The archetypal first child – driven and deliberate.

“I agree,” Tabitha said, “I’ve read a lot about it.” She was the smartest in the family, though also the most innocent. Tabitha spent so much time behind a screen, she often struggled when she stepped out into the real world.

“Yeah,” Chastity said, “Everybody knows boys have to pet the one-eyed snake once a day or they, like, die.” That was Chastity – always teasing. She wasn’t mean, but Chastity wasn’t exactly kind to her kin, either.

“Some people clearly think this is funny,” Mary said, “But I know better. At first, I thought that you were innocent, Michael. Naive. Then I believed that you were doing it on purpose. Trying to hurt me and the family. But I’ve come to understand the truth: you cannot control yourself. And it’s my job – the family’s job – to help you. To keep your soul safe. That’s why I’ve been talking to Father Donovan.”

“Oh my God. Does everyone have to know?” Michael asked.

“Yes God,” Mary said, “That’s exactly the problem. Father Donovan made it very clear that you will be damned forever if we don’t stop you from spilling your sperm all over the house. And unlike some people, I know that Father Donovan isn’t the type to say things just to jerk me around.”

Chastity giggled.

“In fact, Father Donovan has given me an idea for how we can handle Michael’s problem, so it doesn’t shoot us all in the face.”

Chastity burst out laughing. Her face bright red.

“It’s not a joke, Chastity,” Mary said, “We’re all going to have to work together to make Father Donovan’s solution work.”

Well, it had been Mary’s solution, really. But she felt like the family was more likely to listen if she put a bit of priestly guidance behind her thinking. And Father Donovan had given her the seed of the idea. The room went silent. She had their attention.