— Mother and son do what they must

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— Mother and son do what they mustI left home because of mother. Why? Because from the time I was f******n I’d fallen in love with her, or put more bluntly, I wanted to fuck her. Living with her meant a constantly high level of sexual frustration and I thought that one day, in an unguarded moment, I might do or say something that would reveal my secret lust. At the time of my leaving home mother was of course in her early forties, but this had done nothing to diminish what I think of as her allure. Tall, with dark hair and eyes to match, she had an athletic figure, but she was not what might be called beautiful; her nose and jaw were too emphatic, and because swimming was her favourite exercise her shoulders were broad and her limbs muscular; and such strongly built women are not always attractive to a lot of men. And yet mother did attract men and it took until I was in my teen years to work out why. She had a striking presence and it was as if the way she stood, walked, sat and talked conveyed a challenging carnal message, but there was more to it than that.At any social gathering men sought her company and I came to understand only too well why she drew men, including me, to her. She exuded a palpable sexual fragrance like musk oil, but more intoxicating than any perfume. I sometimes wondered if it would ever fade, and decided, it never would. She was one of those rare women who even in old age would still radiate sex appeal.My father didn’t seem to mind the way mother drew men to her, in fact he seemed to revel in it because he had what they all wanted, and I’m as sure as I can be that mother was never unfaithful to him.* * * * * * * *At age twenty two I graduated from the university BA (Hon). The plan had been for me to go on to further studies, but instead I applied for and got a job with the Government of Victoria. That I thought would get me well away from Adelaide and South Australia and consequently away from mother and temptation.When I announced that I was leaving there was a hell of an argument with father and mother; “Your ruining your whole future,” and stuff like that. I didn’t reveal my main reason for leaving home, instead proclaiming my need for independence, striking out on my own, and getting life experience.I had read that sons are often sexually attracted to their mothers but it also said that this will pass “When a more appropriate sex object enters the life of the young man.” Well, I’d experienced several “appropriate sex” objects and they’d done nothing to quell my hankering for mother. güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri And so I left home with father’s admonitions still ringing in my ears and the memory of mother’s tears, little realising what lay ahead. A couple of weeks after I started the job I struck it lucky. Theresa, a widow in her late forties and the mother of five c***dren all of whom had left home, and she worked in the same department as me. She took a fancy to me. She was a pleasantly plump and full breasted lady, and a few lunches together and then dinner at her place led very quickly to being in bed with her and my penis in her vagina. As a result of this encounter I changed lodgings and lived with Theresa.My previous sexual experiences had been with girls my own age, but now I discovered the pleasures of sex with an older woman. For a start condoms had always been involved in my previous sexual experiences, but as Theresa said, “I’m past the age of c***d bearing so we can have it raw.” It was great; I could really feel her vagina and its wetness, and there was something special about knowing that my sperm was really going into her. I learned a lot of things about what a woman likes, and in fact she insisted on us doing things I’d never even thought about before.I can remember the first time we had sex; we stood in her bedroom naked looking at each other when Theresa, looking at my erect penis said, “My word, you re a big boy.” I suppose that in general I am fairly well built and muscular since I’d followed in mother’s exercise footsteps, swimming, and so at first I took Theresa’s comment to be about my general appearance, which was flattering. It was only as I penetrated her vagina with my penis that she made it clear that her “big boy” comment had referred to the size of my penis.I had never considered it to be overly large, not having made comparisons with other penises, but as I penetrated deep into Theresa she moaned, “Oh my God, Adrian, I’ve never had one so big in me before.” That was also flattering in a way, and it was also another learning experience. We weren’t in love; we were a couple of people who were meeting each others sexual needs and enjoying it. Right from the start Theresa had pointed out that one day I’d probably want to get married and have k**s, and she certainly couldn’t provide the latter. “So let’s enjoy ourselves while we can,” she said, “and when it’s over we’ll have happy memories of our time together. “Mind you,” she added, “I’ll always envy the girl who gets perabet your cock in her vagina.” Well, she was right, I certainly enjoyed myself, and I can now say that I do have happy memories of sexually voracious Theresa, who among other things had a penchant for consuming the male organ and its glutinous discharge. I’ve sometimes wondered if her late husband’s demise had been because of Theresa’s ravenous sexual appetite. * * * * * * * *Despite my good times with Theresa it was still my mother that I craved. I suppose the difference was that I wasn’t in love with Theresa, but I was in love with my mother. Having made the move away from her and home I only visited home once during that first year, and that was something I was going to come to regret.A couple of years before I left home I’d noticed that father seemed to be having difficulties breathing and in the morning I could hear him coughing painfully in the bathroom. When I asked what the trouble was I was told, “It’s just a touch of bronchitis.” I should have known I was being fobbed off. During that one visit home I noticed that father’s cough had got even worse and he had lost weight and the slightest physical effort seemed to exhaust him, and he had always been a physically well set up man and very active. Despite this I still didn’t realise just how sick he was, but that seemed to be the way in our family, we never made much of sickness, but if it was bronchitis it had to be the longest bout in human history.Full realisation only came when one evening mother phoned me and said, “I think you’d better come home, your father is very sick and he’s in hospital;” For her to make such a call meant that there was something very seriously wrong with father. I managed to get an early morning flight to Adelaide and took a taxi from the airport to our place in Walkerville, to be met by mother who was utterly distraught. I had arrived too late, father was dead. What I learned was that the so-called bronchitis had in fact been emphysema; an abscess had formed in his lungs and burst, and before any antibiotics could take affect, he died.Mother seemed to be in a lost world so it was left to me to organise and deal with the funeral administrivia. The service took place at the Enfield Crematorium and during the service mother clung to me as she gazed unbelievingly at the coffin as if somehow father wasn’t really in there. She remained like that until the coffin passed out of sight on its way to its fiery end. During the wake that followed mother was locked tipobet into a world of grief, and it was only after the mourners, friends and relatives had finally departed that she began to come out of this cloud of misery sufficiently to talk. Grieving myself, and feeling guilty that I hadn’t recognised earlier my father’s condition, I had to be mother’s comforter. During the rest of my stay I often sat holding her for long periods of time as in a monotonic voice she went over and over the events leading up to father’s death, and interspersing this with memories of their life together. It was as she dwelt on past memories that I heard a lot of things that I’d only previously guessed at. Mother’s guard was down and she went so far as to talk about her sex life with father, which she implied involved sexual intercourse every night until he started to get sick. I must admit that as a k** I’d wondered what the noises were that had emanated nightly from my parent’s bedroom.Again and again as she sadly reminisced she said, “I’ve lost half my life, and there’ll never be anyone to replace Jack” — my father’s name. I wondered about this because a woman who had been so sexually active surely must in the end seek someone who could satisfy her need. I certainly knew of one person who would happily fix what I thought must be her overactive sex drive; namely, me.I’d often wondered if mother had detected my sexual feelings for her, and towards the end of my stay with her she started to talk about how close we were, and she knew that I loved her, and to my dismay she even hinted that she knew why I had left home.The time I could spend with her was limited. I had to return to work, but before I left mother appealed to me to come back home to stay. I knew that now father was dead mother was more vulnerable, or perhaps it as me who was more vulnerable. If I lived alone with mother I might give in to temptation, and I thought this would lead to disaster as far as my future relationship with mother was concerned.I came up with my old excuse about being independent, but as mother said goodbye to me at the airport I nearly relented. She clung to me weeping and that musk aroma was very noticeable, and she kissed me as if we were two lovers parting and I boarded the aircraft trying to hide a heart pulsating erection. Throughout that flight back to Melbourne I wondered if I’d thrown away a golden opportunity to at last make love with mother, but I knew that sometimes people when they are bereaved can become incredibly sexually aroused as they seek solace. It’s as if one emotion flows into another, and I wasn’t ready to take advantage of such a situation.I returned to Theresa who having been bereaved herself didn’t try the talk fest and simply let me talk and make love with her. I must

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