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.”
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.