We thought we had a normal family. Mom and Dad worked and didn’t get home until six thirty or seven. When we were younger, we had a nanny. When I was ten, Maria was deported, so Sissy, my sister, and I were left to fend for ourselves.
I doubted that our parents even knew what we were doing, in school and out, for most of our lives. With Maria leaving, it left a void in our lives. We, or I for sure, began to think of her as our mother. I’m sure that she loved us too, but it didn’t last.
Our parents got the baby thing over with within the first two years of their marriage. Then they could go on about making their fame and fortune in the corporate world. I did have a sort of resentment toward them too. Whenever they were around, I felt as if they were invading our space.
We live in an exclusive and very stuck-up neighborhood. We were allowed to go out to “visit” with our friends, but we had better not let one of their parents see us with even a little smudge on us. Our parents would certainly hear about it. That is why we spent most of our time in the house, either in front of the TV or at a computer. We had several of each to choose from.
Like I said, Sissy and I were left on our own after Maria left. Mom felt that, at ten, I was old enough to take care of Sissy. She was nine at the time. My only complaint was that I had very little privacy. I was almost eleven, and I had heard most of the “talk” at school. I had reached a point in my life where I needed to lock a door once in a while. Every time I did, there was a knock, and I had to answer it. It was always Sissy with something stupid.
One day, when I was fifteen, I had locked myself in the bathroom and was at a ‘crucial point’ in what I was doing when there was a knock at the door. Usually, I could hear her approaching, but this time she startled me limp. I was pissed. I decided to startle her. Instead of pulling my pants up and opening the door, I waddled over to the door with my pants still around my ankles and opened the door. She had her fist up to knock again as I opened it. She just glared at me and then at my dick.
“You could have just told me that you were masturbating, and I would have left you alone,” she said. “Of course, if you want me to watch you...” She turned to walk away but turned right back. “Does that really feel good?”
I have always had feelings for Jane, my mother’s younger sister. While I knew that such feelings are not normal for a nephew to have about his aunt, I was helpless in controlling my feelings. Her great smell, her cute face, her perfect hips and her great tits always kept me interested in her.
Jane was petite, and at 44 she maintained a shape that would make a twenty-four year old jealous.
Jane had been married three times and never had any children. She seemed to have a knack for picking losers.
Whenever she came over to visit, I would waste no chance to sneak a peek at whatever I could.
As Suzy Jenkins, 35, was walking past her 18 -year - old son Jack’s room one day, she heard a moan. The door was slightly ajar, so she peeked through the crack. The sight that struck Suzy’s eyes floored her.
Jack was masturbating. Of course, this fact alone came as no surprise to Suzy. She knew that all boys and most girls masturbated. She just considered it a way to relieve sexual urges when the real thing wasn’t available. Hell, she even did it herself sometimes when she read her romance novels.
But what flabbergasted her was her son’s penis - it was immense. Suzy could see that it was at least 9 inches in length and thicker than her wrist. She stared as Jack slowly stroked his massive cock. Suzy gaped at his huge red cock-head, like a small apple and glistening with pre-cum, and his white shaft, blue-veined like a mighty marble column. She saw her son’s hen’s egg size testicles.
My God!, Suzy thought, stunned. Look at the size of Jack’s co ... thing ... Then she thought of her husband Mike’s penis - just 4 inches long and not much thicker than his finger - saying to herself (and not without pride): He must get it from my genes!
Suzy kept watching, fascinated, as Jack continued to masturbate for what seemed to her an eternity. She couldn’t avoid contrasting her son’s amazing sexual control with his father’s pathetic lack of same. Mike was a good man who worked hard and really loved his wife, but he was also a premature ejaculator. He was only good for 10 or 12 desperate thrusts when he entered her - that is, when he made it that far at all.
Suzy heard nasty wet noises as Jack picked up the pace of his strokes. Involuntarily, Suzy’s vagina began to tingle and moisten.
Albert was sitting in front of the living room TV when his mother came home from her date. She glanced at him suspiciously as she stepped in the front door closing it behind her. “Were you waiting up for me young man?”
The sixteen-year-old looked down at his lap sheepishly and smiled. “Sort of,” he replied honestly.
Moura laughed and ambled behind him ruffling his hair playfully. “Worried about me Honey?”
“Well Jeez Mom, there’re a lot of crazy’s out there and it’s past midnight. Besides, I don’t trust that Dave guy.”
“And why not?” she asked stepping around sitting in the sofa next to him.
“I just don’t like the way he looks at you, like he’s mentally undressing you.”
“I hope he’s got a good imagination because that’s about as far as he’ll get,” she said grinning. With that, she unbuttoned her Pierre Cardin jacket and removed it tossing it on the sofa.
Albert’s eyes almost popped out of head as he glimpsed at his mother in her dress. “You went out in public like that?”
The Greenish liquid looked ugly. The small bottle was given to him by some filthy hobo after he gave him some loose change when he saw him in the alley near his house as he came home from school. He only wanted the man to go away.
“This is the answer to all your problems.” The man had said.
“How would this bottle solve my problems?” Jim had enquired, surprised that his coins actually reaped something in return.
“You’ll see, just spray it sparingly on yourself.”
This started at a work party that one of the bosses threw on a Sunday to celebrate something, a big win for the company or something similar. I didn’t care about the details enough to remember.
So it was at this party that I met Kay, Jay’s wife, for the first time. They’ve been married for two years and they’d had a son about a year ago. Kay still had some pregnancy fat on her and she was complaining about how she didn’t have the time to work out much and was having trouble losing her pregnancy’s extra weight. At this point Jay was a talking to the sales rep for our department and was out of sight.
“I don’t think you need to worry about it much. You look really good.”
“You’re just saying that.”
My problem was that I was too shy.
Take the time when Mum and I kissed under the mistletoe at Christmas. Admittedly, she'd had a few glasses of wine, but we'd never kissed like that before. She pulled me under the mistletoe, laughing, and took my face in her hands and kissed me on the lips. She was wearing a shortish skirt and a sleeveless silk blouse, with a sprig of holly in her hair, and it felt marvellous when I put my arms round her.
But then I felt her soft lips moving on mine, and her bare arms slid around my neck. Involuntarily, I held her closer, and her body moulded itself to me. The kiss lengthened — it must have gone on for over a minute, which is a long time when you're kissing your mother, and it would have been impossible for her not to have felt my growing erection pressed against her belly. Her eyes were closed, and then the tip of her tongue roamed over my lips.
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