If you find sexual fantasies offensive, you are free not to continue reading this story. We always had Sunday dinner after getting back from church. Xxnx However, the next week, in the midst of my self-gratification, I was once more interrupted by my mater materializing. At eye level to my seated mother, she could not help but get the full measure of my member. But I was stumped for an excuse to draw mother into the situation again. “Fredrick Harold Ferguson, just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Okay, perhaps the bold move was out of line. She uses it on my head, but then steps back to survey my form. You didn’t lock the door, Freddy, or I might have had an accident!”
That was believable, mom had one of those ladies’ bladders that ‘when you have to go – you HAVE to GO!’ Now
