I had been thinking about bipermaxing for the last couple of years or more just because I want to feel what sex is like, even if it's not with a prime non-pairbonded tenderoni. Before yesterday I'd limited myself to reading ads on Biperpage.com and beating it to amateur whore blowjob videos and I had no plans to escalate things. If I ever did, I told myself, it would be carefully planned and happen while traveling to a place where it's legal, with STD tests and licenses.

Then shit changed. Yesterday, I had to go to this auto electric place on Airline Highway for my dad. That's pretty much biper central where I live, and the auto electric place is even next door to an OYO hotel. I had $250 in my pocket from my dad.

I was kind of a mess mentally and physically. On Friday I had to spend the day cleaning my grandma Beebee's gutters, and I had a breakdown halfway through because I started feeling like I was having vertigo and a panic attack. Me and Beebee ended up pushing and shoving and calling each other names, so my mood was depressed yesterday. Physically, I had showered but not washed my hair or shaved, and I was wearing my tattered old T-shirt from Radio Shack TRS-80 Computer Camp.

Driving down Airline kind of got me worked up, though. The bipers there are quite brazen in their attire, and yesterday I even saw one exiting a cheap motel room, apparently having just exercised her charms on a horny man.

Then, there was this old black woman just sitting on the curb outside the OYO, ample cleavage spilling out at me, and basically right at my destination. It was then that I realized the table was all set for me.

This biper was mostly a mess, but when she stood up and adjusted her black skirt I could see that her legs and ass were worthy of a Grecian sculpture. She was reminiscent of Fat Albert from her faux tortoiseshell belt up, but a black Michaelangelo's David from belt down. She had on a cheap pink wig that was really doing it for me, too. In fact I developed an instantaneous erection when I saw her stand up.

I parked my '07 Corolla noncommittally, at a spot equidistant from the biper and my original, legitimate objective. I gathered all my virgin rage, swallowed hard, and walked up to her. She was seated on the curb again when I got there.

It was hot and sunny and I got a good look at her: faux gold bracelets, leopard-print tank top, tortoiseshell sunglasses to match the belt, pink lipstick, and gold hoop earrings. A big brown vinyl purse hung off her elbow. I estimated her at around 220lbs and 50 years old.

"Hey I went to that same camp too, boo" she offered as I walked up nervously. For some reason that put me at ease.

"Do you like TRS-80s?" I asked, and then immediately decided it was a braindead, stupid-ass thing to say.

"Yeah, I fuckin' loved TSR-80s and shit back in the day," she replied, once again calming my nerves. This is fucking happening now, I thought to myself.

I summoned all of my limited knowledge of women and of whores generally. "Are you working?" I asked, knowing from my porn videos that this was a sort of phrase-of-art.

"Not really, but I could go set wit' you in one of them rooms for a couple hundred."

The die was cast. A trip was made together, to the impossibly stale front desk area. The Indian man gave us a room key and took $60 of my dad's auto part money. On the way outside and around the corner I started to panic.

"I only have $190! I thought that the OYO would..." I stammered at my date.

"Oh, sweetie, I guess that's OK. Let's go in."

The room actually wasn't that bad. The air was well-cooled, and there was clear evidence of recent vacuuming. "My name's Shanna," the biper shared.

"I'm Alec," I told her, then immediately remembered I was supposed to lie about that. Shanna was already pulling her arms and fulsome breasts out of her tank top. She sat down on the edge of the bed. I dutifully forked over the rest of the cash I had and removed my pants.

Still seated, she put her arms around me and pulled me toward her by my buttocks. Then, for the first time in my entire life, another human began to stimulate my neglected penis.

She sucked me like a pro and I got semi-hard. I was feeding her loads of bullshit about how pretty her hair was and how perfect her body looked. But when I went to fuck her, I went limp and couldn't recover my erection.

"Sit down, boo," Shanna instructed. She started giving me a handjob and I got semi-erect again. I kissed her big brown shoulder and neck. I felt myself grow close to release.

"I love you, mommy," I spat out, gutturally, and didn't even really cringe at this stupid utterance. She even seemed to like it, laughing and stroking my hair.

She was working me pretty good now, with her other hand under my balls. I could feel her pink acrylic nail right by my asshole. Her hand got dry and she spit on my dick, so I spit on her hand and my dick, too. I kept kissing her shoulder and neck. Shanna told me, "Mommy knows all your dirty little secrets, boo."

Then it happened. I spilled my manhood out onto us, all over the front of my Radio Shack Computer Camp shirt and onto her legs, just missing her hiked-up skirt.

"Oh, you really do love mommy," Shanna said, uncoupling from me and looking at her sperm-covered legs.

I spontaneously bent over and cleaned the cum from her legs with my mouth, alternately kissing them and lapping up my own seed. I had never eaten sperm before. I just did what I did out of instinct.

Shanna and I talked for about 15 minutes, until she got a phone call and had to leave. It turned out she was 61 years old and from Detroit, MI. She smoked a little crack with me and I must say, I highly recommend that stuff. It's a fantastic cope, as is bipermaxing as a whole.

I had to tell my dad I got mugged, but I don't think he believed me.