Justin Caas - The Third Sex

Of course Kate had to know about this new discovery and the next morning she was eager to hear all the details as we compared notes like two conspirators. “Could you reach around okay? I mean most people can’t get their head around that far,” Kate wanted to know.

“Oh yes. That’s quite easy and even comfortable. I mean it’s not unique. I read where two Chinese women gymnasts could curl up into a ball and they both masturbated exclusively that way.”

“So what was it like?”

“Pretty good,” I acknowledged.

“As good as when I do it to you?”

I should have been warned by her tone of voice but was still re-living the sensations. “Actually even bet—”

Kate froze and looked away. I desperately tried to explain that what I really meant was—and of course—but the damage had been done. Kate rose and disappeared into the kitchen.

Well there goes my future prospects. Looks like it’s going to be a solo activity from here on. The thought filled me with a sick depression. I hated it when we got offside with each other. Nothing I could do about it at the moment though.

The following month father was out of town fitting out a rather large luxury craft. It was school holidays and Kate had gone to a summer camp with her friends.

“Why don’t you invite some of your friends around?” Mother suggested. I felt restless and couldn’t settle to anything and the company of friends didn’t appeal. Mother had dressed in a sleevless cream coloured top and a short cotton skirt, the one with little watering cans around the hem which she often wore while gardening. The morning sun beat down with a steady intensity. “It’ll be too hot to do much more out there before long,” she observed. I caught a faint waft of sweat as she brushed past and busied herself making a cup of tea.

Then I realised what was just on the edge of perception; mother was ovulating. I detected it as a powerful need to get closer. Before she had a chance to pick up her cup, I threw my arms around her and hugged. Molly turned in surprise but smiled and hugged me in return. Mother and Kate were both warmly demonstrative and I never lacked for hugs. Except that I was out of favour with Kate at the moment. The scent struck me again as if from a powerful aphrodisiac. I felt a moment of light-headed dizziness and when I returned to my senses was dismayed to discover that my hips were moving in an involuntary thrusting against my mother’s thigh.

Molly separated herself from me. “You shouldn’t be doing that Erin. It’s not right.”

“Sorry.” But I followed her into the living room and sat down on the floor at her feet, watching as she drank her tea. Her face showed an expression of amusement and also concern. “You could go sailing with Brian?” she ventured doubtfully. “I met him at the store yesterday and he said he’d like you to go sailing with him.”

I had a strong suspicion that Brian was less interested in my none-existent nautical abilities than what lay inside my pants. I had mostly been accepted by other students and I got on really well with many girls who readily welcomed the friendship. The boys perhaps had a different agenda but I said nothing of this to mother.

“I need to stay close to you at the moment.”

Molly shook her head, “I understand what is happening and of course you can’t help the motivations you were programmed with but you can exercise a choice. Ring Brian. If you are out of the house the problem won’t be confronting you.”

“Okay.” But for a moment instinct prevailed and as mother rose to her feet, I clung to her left leg and humped against it. My vision was a red mist of passion. I looked up at her helplessly. Then blinking rapidly, I disengaged myself. Mother glanced down said, “You’d better change, you’re quite wet in the front.”

“It’ll dry,” I said dismissively and turned to the phone. Brian was indeed interested to go sailing and said he knew of a quiet backwater where we could relax. I was pretty sure what sort of relaxation Brian had in mind, but merely said I’d meet him in a while. For some reason adding, “about lunchtime.” That would give me time to change my mind if the prospect of Brian’s company didn’t appeal.

I turned to mother, said I was probably going to go sailing with Brian but first I had to get something from the store.

“Bring back some sun cream while you’re at it,” mother asked.

Armed with a credit card I stepped out the front door and down the street. Damn, forgot my hat. This sun is fierce. I wavered between returning or pressing on regardless and was half-way to the store before deciding I’d be burnt if I didn’t go back now.

I stepped quietly through the front door, looked down and decided mother was right, the wet patch was very visible. I’d better change, only take a moment. I slipped the trousers off and was rummaging through the cupboard when I heard a small gasp in the doorway. I turned to see mother naked except for the towel she was holding in front of her; the sound of a running shower a faint patter in the background.

“I heard a noise,” she explained, “What are you doing back so soon?”

“I forgot my hat, and …” pointing to the discarded pants, “thought I’d better change these as well.” As I spoke, I rapidly approached and hugged her close to me. It all happened rather quickly. When the towel was accidentally brushed aside hot flesh pressed against mother’s belly. I was powerless to do anything but just cling her her. Presently her flesh became slippery with the little ejaculations and the shaft rubbed against her rhythmically. Molly protested.

“I just have to do it,” I urged. It’s something that won’t let go of me until I do what I was created for.” That was not strictly true, it was the overwhelming awareness of a woman on heat that compelled me. If I stopped now and departed the house my interest would almost immediately turn to zero. I was drawing her gently into the room as I spoke. But in the presence of that scent I myself was powerless to resist.

Mother could easily and swiftly disengage us without either of us losing face. But she wavered because unknown to us both at the time was a mechanism built-into my genetic makeup. The scientist-designers realised that although many women might want a baby and were intellectually prepared to go down this path with a Stud, but when the moment for fertilisation arrived suddenly everything was cold, clinical and a bit repugnant. Studs were designed to be physically attractive to women, but a more powerful and subtle inducement was a distinctive pheromone which the stud gives off as he approaches the prospect of intercourse.

The sense of smell is unlike the senses of sight and sound, both of which are filtered through the brain and interpreted before deciding upon an appropriate response. If someone wears glasses that turn everything upside down, it is disorienting at first but amazingly the brain gradually adjusts this to present what it expects to see. Smell is different. Smell goes straight through to an ancient part of the brain without any intermediate interpretation and the response is immediate. Think of a moment in your childhood, a sudden shower on a hot summer’s day. Years later if you encounter the same situation, immediately the unique smell of evaporating water from hot ashphalt paving transports one back to that childhood memory, as vivid and unchanged as when it first happened.

So mother wavered because she was not actually making any conscious decisions, but was transported to a state of acceptance, even willingness, dictated by the influence of that pheromone. She was no longer thinking about it or the later consequences. For the moment totally caught up in a state of readiness, she allowed herself to be led to the bed and to lie down on it. Her face a mask of anticipation, her eyes glazed with a great desire for what must come next. It was the way things worked. Part of an immutable scheme that stretched back through the mists of time.