“Does my mother want me to fuck her?” I thought. “How could that be?” I raked my hands through my hair to avoid absentmindedly rubbing my cock... “Why did Jimmy have me find out like this… or at all?” My hard-on was threatening a revolution if I didn't rub one out, and I was trying so hard not to give in as thoughts swirled around in my head. After what seemed like forever but was likely only about five minutes I ripped my pants off and jacked off to thoughts of my mother begging for me to fuck. I know he loves me but a peck on the cheek in the morning and a pat on the butt at night is not enough to show your love. Is this how my life is to be, no excitement, no passion, just daily routine until I become too old even to care. I know I can’t complain and that I have it better than most. Mike is a good provider and I know he doesn’t cheat on me but is that enough to sustain life, I fear not. The page stopped there and as I stared at her writing, I tried to think of our life from Marge’s. More

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