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It was Henry David Thoreau, in Walden, who remarked, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” This statement appears to be just as true today as it did then. Perhaps it is even more valid today considering the pressures and frequent monotony of today’s world.
The majority of today’s men and women live in boring circumstances, and when the opportunity for change arises, they are often quick to seize the chance. For the characters in this story, the opportunity is one which many would consider perverse and deranged. But it provides a release and a need. All morals and scruples are cast aside in a moment of madness — a chance to grab pleasure before it is taken away.
I SAW MOMMY KISSING… is a novel about the quiet desperation in so many of us — and the extremes to which it may drive us.
Catherine Weatherby wondered if her daughter was getting fucked. The girl was out on a date and it was after midnight. It was the sort of thing that a mother wondered about.
Catherine wasn’t worried, however. She loved fucking, herself. She assumed that her daughter would inherit her sexual inclinations, but she wasn’t sure if the girl had started fucking yet, or was still a virgin. Catherine didn’t care. In fact, it made her horny to imagine the girl getting fucked with a big, hard prick. She liked to think about it. She liked to play with her pussy while she thought about her daughter getting fucked, in all the graphic detail her imagination could supply.
She thought about it now.
Catherine was in bed with her husband, Robert.
Robert was asleep.
Didn’t he wonder why their daughter, Joanne, was not home yet?
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.