Something about the conversation indicated a more demure dress, rather than one of my sexy black numbers. Still with the gorgeous bra and no underwear, but that thinly veiled sexual being that is Mama.

This young gentleman had been here before, into the role play realms and for me that meant our conversation had much more value. We knew this was a play with the archetype level, that eternal older woman, that young man on the verge of knowing.

I do love to hold such a young man to my breast, as he sinks down into the soft flesh and suckles in that innocent, carefree way a little does. My whole body awakens to this intimacy that is so hard to explain, but simple to share… for me it is. And for this particular young gentleman, he had the capacity to just let go, rest and be held. Like he had imagined this for years and had just been waiting.

Deliciously the play slides over that line where the desires become more carnal, he reaches for my cunt, I run my hand down his chest to fondle his cock, we spill over that edge into the fuck that was always longed for, but never available… until now. That is the beauty of the deep role play, the psyche given permission to suspend disbelief long enough to have what it has always wanted. To Fuck Mama.

Riding that whole state, for as long as we can, that edging that feels so good, till the desire just spills over and is truly had. Spent. Done. Then comes the next bit, where the mind has to return, and process what just happened. This needs to be held too, stroked kindly that the whole being can integrate. Leaving no room for any wrongness, for the play of two consenting adults.

Perhaps it has nothing to do with the wife, or the rest of your world. Perhaps it’s sat there in the back of you life as idea, real as any other notion of what could be. Being held in your little, as the sexual being you are, holds something deeply true. We are all born sexual beings.