It was their “date” night. I had to stay in my room and pretend that I wasn't home so I didn't interrupt their dinner and good times before they retired to their bedroom and fucked. I hated having masturbating to listen to them having sex, my mother moaning and groaning. I wanted her to groan that way for me. All eighteen years orgasm of my life had blow job shaped me to love my mother. I ached for her. Every son should have their mother's entire focus. It made me so hard just thinking about it. I sensual masturbated to her all the time, pretending she loved me the way erotic she loved her father. That she cared for me and didn't help father criticize me, to try and make me into his version of a man. Someone who played sports and went on dates with girls, they type of guy who fucked cheerleaders and strutted through the hallways. I pushed up my glasses as I stared at the text. Where had this come from? It was then that the strangest thing happened. Both of our faces were bright orgasm red, embarrassed and scared. You had a guest kidnapped.” He heard a huge road crash and woke up... he was just dreaming! "Like our grandfather and even our uncles haven't seen our panties before, with the short mini skirts me and you wear. I wanted it to penetrate me. I wanted that silken shaft fucking my cunt. Though things were almost completely as they felt they should be, something was nudging Ambrose at the back of his mind. “And look at you in your masturbating little short black skirt. Only a little it seemed as she brought her both hands to her waist. She wiggled out of his embrace and pushed him away. I stopped to see Juanita, she had drawn the long straw for location, sensual and erotic took the spot nearest the door. I wanted to give in. To unleash my cum. He presented his wet, glistening shaft to my face. I smiled over the lip of my can, “No shit, that girl blow job is hot.” They took each other's virginity with a dildo.