So here we were, eighteen years old and trying to join the adult world. Like any couple in high school we had lots of drama and it continued after graduation. Matt was a tall guy, stocky with dark hair and eyes. Like any girl, I was appreciative of the gift of his attention. Matt focused a lot of his attention on me. Neither of us went to college after we graduated with the thought we would work and save money to go. We met shortly after I transferred to the school in grade 12. He was the quiet loner type and he had a mysterious quality about him I was drawn to. I met my first boyfriend in high school and we had been dating for about a year and a half. That’s how it’s done.Babysitting and getting my first black man She held me with a firm grip and I went soft in her hand. I’m feeling something I told her and then she felt my contractions and her firm grasp and quick strokes did the trick and I had another couple shots. I think you may go twice she said how do you feel any thing building inside. I put my head on Moms shoulder and she kept stroking me. How do you feel ? I told Mom I felt so excited and now I feel just good and she kept stroking me and I stayed very hard. I stood to my feet and Mom stroked fast and then I was empty but Mom just stroked me real slow as I was still very hard. Mom I shouted and she grasped firm and stroked quickly and I fired and hit the pillow, Moms hair, arm and all down her hand and dress. Let go you’ll be fine so I did and she continued. She kept giong and two times I grabbed her hand and she stopped. In a minute I yelled Mom! When she asked me what was it. When she grabbed me I couldn’t hold still. Now don’t tell Dad but I was real good at this in school. A large tube of KY was in her hand and she put a generious plop in her palm. She started on me feeling me up and she made me hard. Not a single hair she touched my pubic bone with a finger. Oh you are so petite she said as she sat me on one knee with my legs dangling between her legs. For a while I thought that’s what she was going to do. I should iron these they will look better. I walked to her and she unbuckled my belt and un zipped my pants. So now I’m telling, hope she doesn’t read this. She made me hold my hand up and promise never tell about that day. I’ll show you just this once, you have to promise never tell any one. I was small from my dads side and it was a while before Mom stopped calling me midget. She was very tall as a Mom at 5-11 and she was 140 lbs and still is. She got married young and had me right away. Mom dressed like Dorothy in the wizzard of Oz. Mom squatted on the floor in front of me and unlaced my sneekers. She did a hand signal as I was watching and then she exasperated said come here. What you do is, she just moved her hand in a motion up and down as I stood there. Come here you will be later to school, I’ll just call them before they call me. Before I got to the door she asked me if I knew how. No more pajamas in the laundry all the time. In the morning ? Every morning and some times it gets so hard I can’t piss. You are eleven so is your penis getting hard? Yes all the time. She and I could not stop and get serious for a long time.You need to start shipping before you get customers. Well since your warehouse has no customers yet they throw the old stored sperm out, so they can bring all the new sperm in, so when you get customers they get fresh prouduct.Well I tried but couldn’t stop laughing at her analogy. Well the factory sends all it’s sperm to a warehouse inside my body. You are going to miss the bus, and she took me in her bedroom by the hand sat me on the bed and Told me how boys are sperm factorys and every minute we make hundreds of sperm. I think she said what do they do at these schools these days. Have you been jacking off ? When I said no, she asked me if I knew what jacking off is? She could tell I was totally lost for a clue. She asked me if I was doing any masturbation. Mom asked me if I was waking up sticky and wet some mornings and I said I was. I was having wet dreams and Mom noticed my pajamas in the laundry and that I had starched them. It was my freshman year before I started more small talk, to people I had known for years. My fellow students would tell the teachers to just ask yes or no questions and I would nod or shake my head no. Parent teachers confrences Mom always did all the talking and some of my teachers admitted they never had a conversation with me. She considered me a mute and even teased me with that name. I am reserved and the the only one I ever told much to was my Mom.
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