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435 Young Cyrils Lighthouse Moment . free porn video
435 young Cyrils lighthouse moment
Entry in his Diary, 17 October 2000.
It’s a well-known fact that small boys fancy their mothers… usually, and as the small boys get bigger the fetish gets stronger and stronger, it says so in this pamphlet thingy our science master has given out…. well I ain`t no exception and now as you know, as it was my birthday on Saturday, and I was 15… so things are getting rather serious that way and this pamphlet things not helped.
I had better explain
My name is Cyril by the way, Cyril Seddon, known at school as sedimentary Cyril due to my outwardly slow and methodical ways, and my hatred of games PE and general exercising my idle body. I would rather draw than play silly games, and I learnt early on that it was more my style to be a loner and a solitary soul and it paid in the long run not to be a ‘team player’ whatever that is. I know you out there probably have found it the opposite, but well it worked for me and my dad before me is all I can say!
I should explain that dad is the live-in lighthouse keeper at hangman`s point. He`s deaf, and he spends his time watching ships and I suspect what he calls ‘courting couples’ he says “for their own safety” in the scrubland round the light… its where he met my mother! I understand it was after she had been dumped by her ex-boyfriend one warm summer afternoon. A helping hand and sympathetic word, a cup of tea and he was in! She always said she was, “a working girl” though she`s never said what she worked at. They never looked back, six months and they were man and wife, and the house at the foot of the light, our old family home, became her home. My mother being a very passionate woman, dad always said it changed his life!
My grandad retired just after they were married, going to live with my aunt, and passing the job on to dad, we don’t see him much nowadays, aunty referring to my mum as a brazen hussy, whatever that is.
I was born a year after the wedding, and my two brothers, twins, a year after that. Sadly, they now abide in a home, somewhere called the institution, as both were disabled since birth and had to be looked after since before their second birthdays. They said I was borderline, whatever that meant. On the recommendation of doctors, mother was “sterilised” which I thought was dipped in boiling hot water like she did with their bottles, not that that worried my dad, who laughed when I said I didn’t want mum dipped in boiling water and he said “I wasn`t to worry!” and that “anyway it was less to feed as we were then just three in the family now!” and “they could all shag her brains out without any consequences now”… though I didn’t understand that bit!”
Dad was a loner, perfect for this remote job, keeping the lamp lit and it being so remote it suited him to the ground never once leaving the house or light in all the time I have known him. That it was three miles to the village, and no bus service, not that we could afford the fares, dad said and the stop being over a mile away it wasn’t much help, from September till Easter there wasn’t a service either, which meant mum had to ride her bike to the shops, which once I was out of a pram meant a ride in a little trailer dad built to go behind her bike! By the time I was four I could ride a bike anyway and that became my main source of transport its three miles each way each day to my school and three back, and that keeps me fit enough.
The remoteness ensured friends were few, hence my single-minded attitude. There was of course a good side to my way of living, as dad says there is always a good side to everything! At home mum and dad live fairly well and our remoteness meant that mum never bothered about what she wore indoors, or round the lighthouse her titties usually out on display cos dad likes it that way, he says it pays to advertise and she says she doesn’t like the heat and all those clothes and things anyway. She is not uptight about her life either, some of the men who visit her occasionally and give her money she says it`s for her helping the men with what she calls “their stiffness,” she must be good at it too cos they come quite often, dad just sits up his light and keeps out of the way he says to save the men from embarrassment whatever that is. Though I don’t understand that. I, well, just took it for granted as being the way all folks lived, “it was not something to chat about outside the house” dad said, as “it wasn`t good manners” and many is the time dad would just send me to chop sticks or dig the vegetable patch while he or one of the men threw mum over the table end in our kitchen, or on the sofa in the parlour saying “he needed to have his stiffness eased, or to squeeze a boil, or a pimple,” which he said “was embarrassing mum,” or that he was suffering “from that stiffness the other men have.” It was to me perfectly normal behaviour and wasn’t he thoughtful…mum perhaps had a lot of boils up under her dress though of course I had not seen them!
Weekends in the summer we had a lot of walkers and courting couples who would do all sorts in the gorse, after a “stroll to the lighthouse” mostly removing stiffness or squeezing boils too, I spose, but that falls off in the cooler months.
I draw a lot, I`m told I`m quite good, and dad`s framed a few and sold them for me, mostly gulls and rocks and things, well there`s not a lot more to see here, though I do the odd one from picture books. Ships and lorry`s and trains, though I`ve never yet seen a train, and other than when the men came to fit a new engine to our generator, I`ve only ever seen a very few lorry`s and then not those big ones in the papers.
The other good thing about school of course is Miss Kennedy the gym teacher who I like a lot, she`s pretty. Old Mrs Doherty the English teacher, knew I wasn’t happy with those other rough lads, who, knowing I was… I think she called it “a bit slow…” either way they ragged me rotten at dinner-time`s so she lets me sit up in her storeroom on my own to “tidy up, while I ate my sandwiches.” Which saved me all that and it became my haven each day, Miss Kennedy, she`s the pretty one, she has a shower most dinnertimes down in the gym showers and if I stand on the table, and up on a chair, from my high storeroom window I can just see down into the gym showers. I don’t think she knows I can see her and she`s got pimples like mum has on each of her titties though her titties are not as big as my mums, and they stick out more. I`ve not been able to see any boils on her bum yet. she`s quite pretty, and if she gets boil`s I shall offer to help her squeeze them, but despite watching her for the last two years I`ve not seen any yet.
Since that film I`ve been thinking more about my mum, and what`s under her skirt and until the science teacher showed us that film and told us of the birds and bees, last week, I didn’t think of it as anything more than, well just folk helping one another by massaging tired limbs or squeezing boils or some such. He, that’s old Benson, the science teacher give us a booklet on something called “sexual awareness,” and it`s been a fun one to read, but it tells lies I think, it says ladies don’t have willy`s, which is silly as what would they pee through, though I must admit miss Kennedy hasn’t got one like mine though I can only see her from the top?
My dad says mines big for my age, and it spits now and then too, sometimes I rub it to save it getting uncomfortable like those men, but dad says that’s ok, and as I get older I too will enjoy help with stiffness like all men, but it is ok yet!
Mum however when I asked about it, said that “she would speak to dad and we would have to see,” whatever that meant, anyway she must have cos she says she will show me at the weekend as its forecast to be foggy and dad will have to be off tending that horn of his. It’s a bit odd when its foggy here, dad has to keep that foghorn thing shouting all the time, so the ships don’t end up on the rocks he says. The row is horrible, and we can`t sleep, it`s impossible, no one ever visits on foggy days or nights and belive me, were all happy when it brightens up `cos we are all tired.
Diary 20th of October 2000,
It got foggy on Friday night and the man rang dad and told him to switch on that horn thingy, It bellowed all weekend, mum and I couldn’t sleep properly and dad had to go up the light and I had to take him his meals and tea an things, he takes out his hearing aid, the one that man brought him last year and he is better off than mum and me as we can`t think when it`s going !
Mum gets pretty tired when it`s on and dad has to be relieved by mum or me if it goes on too long, so he can “snatch some sleep for an hour or two” I cuddle my mum when its foggy as she says she`s scared on her own, and we don’t go to bed as it`s just a waste of time. this weekend was different though, mum took me to her room, and we lay on her bed together, and she asked me questions about my booklet, which I showed her. showing her what I didn’t understand, and she asking did I want to find out more, that sort of thing.
I said, “I couldn’t understand how women pee if like the book said women didn’t have willies!” and she laughed.
She clambered out of the bed and stood beside it saying, “what are these?” And pointing at her titties, hidden under her nighty. I said “titties, everyone knows that!” and she said, “but you don’t have them, now do you?” which was true, men don’t. She said, “As I was a big lad now and old enough since my birthday, I was to take off her nighty, and I could see the other differences!” I stood and as she holding up her arms for me, I lifted off the pink silky thing taking it off over her head. I put it on the chair and turned back to see my mum for the first time ever, naked all the way from head to toe, she is lovely.
Her legs and bum, pale where the skin hadn’t seen the sun as much as at her top. She had a big dark hairy bush growing at the front of her and true enough no willy or balls like I have, just a fold going down between her legs.
“See” she said, “no willy” wow this was amazing, I `spose Miss Kennedy must be the same, though I`ve only seen her from above, and not close up, and I nearly said so, but thought I had better not as they might tell her and I wouldn’t have that hideaway at dinnertimes from the bullies!
Mum kissed me then lay back on her bed and said, “Did I want to see any more?” was there more to see I wondered, so I said, “yes please” and with a grin she opened her legs wide. Outside every half-minute or so that old foghorn blew, it sounded like a giant fart, as time for me stood still. Mum pointed out a pair of crinkly lips, like the wattle on our old cockerel only more brownish, his is red. She let me touch them they were soft and lovely, she showed me how to open them and a second smaller pair under them and a bit she called her hood and a little nub she called a clit. It was magic, Aladdin’s cave she called it then she pointed out the cave entrance, and a hole going right up into her body. she explained about peeing and where that’s from saying she would show me sometime and… oh I don’t know, she told me about babies coming out of that hole, (which I didn’t belive, not out of that little hole) and how she could get rid of that stiffness my willy had now and again, and oh all sorts. Then she kissed me, not like usual each day, when I go off to school, but harder and her lips got hot and her tongue, well it touched mine. She asked to see my willy and balls, so I took off my PJ`s and she kissed willy, saying how nice he was, and how big. She played with my balls jiggling them in their bag and making my willy even stiffer… then she asked me if I should like to let willy look around inside her. She lay back and helped me into her, she was warm and wet and just as he slid in the foghorn went off outside making me jump. We giggled, and I lay there fully inside my mum, it was lovely. She put my hands on her titties, soft and gentle as the lumps of dough when she makes bread they were, the two things on them growing stiff as I kneaded at them which she seemed to like.
She suggested I eased willy out till it was nearly clear, then pushed it back in fast, which I did, ooh it was great fun, again and again we did it, she seemed to love it and told me to ”bang it in each time really hard” though I was worried about hurting her and said so. She said I was not to be worried and “really go for it, really hammer it in I couldn’t possibly hurt her, it was all fun, and she wanted to feel my balls hitting her under there…! She began to get short of breath, then her hips rose up off of the bed and she began to cry out “YES, yes, YES,” so as she was enjoying it, I just kept on at it for her. my hands gripping into her titties and my willy spitting that stuff we make, up deep into her body, and that felt wonderful. Her eyes were rolling, and she began begging me to stop, which I did, though I wasn’t keen to stop, and we lay with my willy still up in her and me on top of her.
She asked me to get off for a while, she needed to rest. So… we lay together, her titties marked by my fingers and goo running from her lower down bits. My willy still stiff as a poker, eager to have her enjoy herself some more and that dratted foghorn still rattling the windows so we couldn’t sleep.
We did it again after a while, this time her eyes rolling more and her breath getting faster, much quicker, she had me suck on her titties this time, she called the brown bits “nipples” and it was fun, but she hadn’t the energy I have and after I had filled her twice more she was soon begging me to stop again, saying she was “well fucked, whatever that meant!
We lay together dozing as well as we could with that blessed noise rattling the windows, till she got up to do breakfast, and back in my PJ`s I took dads up to him high in the light. He said I looked, “bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning, had something changed?” so I told him mum, had shown me a lot last night, but with no hearing aid in and that bloody old horn blaring, I doubt he heard what I answered. So, saying I would relieve him at 10 so he could get some kip, I returned to the kitchen. As we ate mum said, “that I must not tell anyone about what we had done together or she would get in trouble, me being her son and all!”
I promise, though I said I had just told dad which she said was.” OK!” then said, “We had agreed it was time you knew, but no-one else must ever know!” which I said, “suited me as long as we could do it again soon!” which she smiled at.
I relieved dad at 10 as I promised and was to call him straight away if anything changed. I sat and drew a convenient gull that sat out on the walkway for me. I find the local gulls know me and are not scared of me nowadays. All was at peace with the world, it would be Monday soon and school would beckon, but there was always Miss Kennedy.
Entry in his Diary, 17 October 2000.
It’s a well-known fact that small boys fancy their mothers… usually, and as the small boys get bigger the fetish gets stronger and stronger, it says so in this pamphlet thingy our science master has given out…. well I ain`t no exception and now as you know, as it was my birthday on Saturday, and I was 15… so things are getting rather serious that way and this pamphlet things not helped.
I had better explain
My name is Cyril by the way, Cyril Seddon, known at school as sedimentary Cyril due to my outwardly slow and methodical ways, and my hatred of games PE and general exercising my idle body. I would rather draw than play silly games, and I learnt early on that it was more my style to be a loner and a solitary soul and it paid in the long run not to be a ‘team player’ whatever that is. I know you out there probably have found it the opposite, but well it worked for me and my dad before me is all I can say!
I should explain that dad is the live-in lighthouse keeper at hangman`s point. He`s deaf, and he spends his time watching ships and I suspect what he calls ‘courting couples’ he says “for their own safety” in the scrubland round the light… its where he met my mother! I understand it was after she had been dumped by her ex-boyfriend one warm summer afternoon. A helping hand and sympathetic word, a cup of tea and he was in! She always said she was, “a working girl” though she`s never said what she worked at. They never looked back, six months and they were man and wife, and the house at the foot of the light, our old family home, became her home. My mother being a very passionate woman, dad always said it changed his life!
My grandad retired just after they were married, going to live with my aunt, and passing the job on to dad, we don’t see him much nowadays, aunty referring to my mum as a brazen hussy, whatever that is.
I was born a year after the wedding, and my two brothers, twins, a year after that. Sadly, they now abide in a home, somewhere called the institution, as both were disabled since birth and had to be looked after since before their second birthdays. They said I was borderline, whatever that meant. On the recommendation of doctors, mother was “sterilised” which I thought was dipped in boiling hot water like she did with their bottles, not that that worried my dad, who laughed when I said I didn’t want mum dipped in boiling water and he said “I wasn`t to worry!” and that “anyway it was less to feed as we were then just three in the family now!” and “they could all shag her brains out without any consequences now”… though I didn’t understand that bit!”
Dad was a loner, perfect for this remote job, keeping the lamp lit and it being so remote it suited him to the ground never once leaving the house or light in all the time I have known him. That it was three miles to the village, and no bus service, not that we could afford the fares, dad said and the stop being over a mile away it wasn’t much help, from September till Easter there wasn’t a service either, which meant mum had to ride her bike to the shops, which once I was out of a pram meant a ride in a little trailer dad built to go behind her bike! By the time I was four I could ride a bike anyway and that became my main source of transport its three miles each way each day to my school and three back, and that keeps me fit enough.
The remoteness ensured friends were few, hence my single-minded attitude. There was of course a good side to my way of living, as dad says there is always a good side to everything! At home mum and dad live fairly well and our remoteness meant that mum never bothered about what she wore indoors, or round the lighthouse her titties usually out on display cos dad likes it that way, he says it pays to advertise and she says she doesn’t like the heat and all those clothes and things anyway. She is not uptight about her life either, some of the men who visit her occasionally and give her money she says it`s for her helping the men with what she calls “their stiffness,” she must be good at it too cos they come quite often, dad just sits up his light and keeps out of the way he says to save the men from embarrassment whatever that is. Though I don’t understand that. I, well, just took it for granted as being the way all folks lived, “it was not something to chat about outside the house” dad said, as “it wasn`t good manners” and many is the time dad would just send me to chop sticks or dig the vegetable patch while he or one of the men threw mum over the table end in our kitchen, or on the sofa in the parlour saying “he needed to have his stiffness eased, or to squeeze a boil, or a pimple,” which he said “was embarrassing mum,” or that he was suffering “from that stiffness the other men have.” It was to me perfectly normal behaviour and wasn’t he thoughtful…mum perhaps had a lot of boils up under her dress though of course I had not seen them!
Weekends in the summer we had a lot of walkers and courting couples who would do all sorts in the gorse, after a “stroll to the lighthouse” mostly removing stiffness or squeezing boils too, I spose, but that falls off in the cooler months.
I draw a lot, I`m told I`m quite good, and dad`s framed a few and sold them for me, mostly gulls and rocks and things, well there`s not a lot more to see here, though I do the odd one from picture books. Ships and lorry`s and trains, though I`ve never yet seen a train, and other than when the men came to fit a new engine to our generator, I`ve only ever seen a very few lorry`s and then not those big ones in the papers.
The other good thing about school of course is Miss Kennedy the gym teacher who I like a lot, she`s pretty. Old Mrs Doherty the English teacher, knew I wasn’t happy with those other rough lads, who, knowing I was… I think she called it “a bit slow…” either way they ragged me rotten at dinner-time`s so she lets me sit up in her storeroom on my own to “tidy up, while I ate my sandwiches.” Which saved me all that and it became my haven each day, Miss Kennedy, she`s the pretty one, she has a shower most dinnertimes down in the gym showers and if I stand on the table, and up on a chair, from my high storeroom window I can just see down into the gym showers. I don’t think she knows I can see her and she`s got pimples like mum has on each of her titties though her titties are not as big as my mums, and they stick out more. I`ve not been able to see any boils on her bum yet. she`s quite pretty, and if she gets boil`s I shall offer to help her squeeze them, but despite watching her for the last two years I`ve not seen any yet.
Since that film I`ve been thinking more about my mum, and what`s under her skirt and until the science teacher showed us that film and told us of the birds and bees, last week, I didn’t think of it as anything more than, well just folk helping one another by massaging tired limbs or squeezing boils or some such. He, that’s old Benson, the science teacher give us a booklet on something called “sexual awareness,” and it`s been a fun one to read, but it tells lies I think, it says ladies don’t have willy`s, which is silly as what would they pee through, though I must admit miss Kennedy hasn’t got one like mine though I can only see her from the top?
My dad says mines big for my age, and it spits now and then too, sometimes I rub it to save it getting uncomfortable like those men, but dad says that’s ok, and as I get older I too will enjoy help with stiffness like all men, but it is ok yet!
Mum however when I asked about it, said that “she would speak to dad and we would have to see,” whatever that meant, anyway she must have cos she says she will show me at the weekend as its forecast to be foggy and dad will have to be off tending that horn of his. It’s a bit odd when its foggy here, dad has to keep that foghorn thing shouting all the time, so the ships don’t end up on the rocks he says. The row is horrible, and we can`t sleep, it`s impossible, no one ever visits on foggy days or nights and belive me, were all happy when it brightens up `cos we are all tired.
Diary 20th of October 2000,
It got foggy on Friday night and the man rang dad and told him to switch on that horn thingy, It bellowed all weekend, mum and I couldn’t sleep properly and dad had to go up the light and I had to take him his meals and tea an things, he takes out his hearing aid, the one that man brought him last year and he is better off than mum and me as we can`t think when it`s going !
Mum gets pretty tired when it`s on and dad has to be relieved by mum or me if it goes on too long, so he can “snatch some sleep for an hour or two” I cuddle my mum when its foggy as she says she`s scared on her own, and we don’t go to bed as it`s just a waste of time. this weekend was different though, mum took me to her room, and we lay on her bed together, and she asked me questions about my booklet, which I showed her. showing her what I didn’t understand, and she asking did I want to find out more, that sort of thing.
I said, “I couldn’t understand how women pee if like the book said women didn’t have willies!” and she laughed.
She clambered out of the bed and stood beside it saying, “what are these?” And pointing at her titties, hidden under her nighty. I said “titties, everyone knows that!” and she said, “but you don’t have them, now do you?” which was true, men don’t. She said, “As I was a big lad now and old enough since my birthday, I was to take off her nighty, and I could see the other differences!” I stood and as she holding up her arms for me, I lifted off the pink silky thing taking it off over her head. I put it on the chair and turned back to see my mum for the first time ever, naked all the way from head to toe, she is lovely.
Her legs and bum, pale where the skin hadn’t seen the sun as much as at her top. She had a big dark hairy bush growing at the front of her and true enough no willy or balls like I have, just a fold going down between her legs.
“See” she said, “no willy” wow this was amazing, I `spose Miss Kennedy must be the same, though I`ve only seen her from above, and not close up, and I nearly said so, but thought I had better not as they might tell her and I wouldn’t have that hideaway at dinnertimes from the bullies!
Mum kissed me then lay back on her bed and said, “Did I want to see any more?” was there more to see I wondered, so I said, “yes please” and with a grin she opened her legs wide. Outside every half-minute or so that old foghorn blew, it sounded like a giant fart, as time for me stood still. Mum pointed out a pair of crinkly lips, like the wattle on our old cockerel only more brownish, his is red. She let me touch them they were soft and lovely, she showed me how to open them and a second smaller pair under them and a bit she called her hood and a little nub she called a clit. It was magic, Aladdin’s cave she called it then she pointed out the cave entrance, and a hole going right up into her body. she explained about peeing and where that’s from saying she would show me sometime and… oh I don’t know, she told me about babies coming out of that hole, (which I didn’t belive, not out of that little hole) and how she could get rid of that stiffness my willy had now and again, and oh all sorts. Then she kissed me, not like usual each day, when I go off to school, but harder and her lips got hot and her tongue, well it touched mine. She asked to see my willy and balls, so I took off my PJ`s and she kissed willy, saying how nice he was, and how big. She played with my balls jiggling them in their bag and making my willy even stiffer… then she asked me if I should like to let willy look around inside her. She lay back and helped me into her, she was warm and wet and just as he slid in the foghorn went off outside making me jump. We giggled, and I lay there fully inside my mum, it was lovely. She put my hands on her titties, soft and gentle as the lumps of dough when she makes bread they were, the two things on them growing stiff as I kneaded at them which she seemed to like.
She suggested I eased willy out till it was nearly clear, then pushed it back in fast, which I did, ooh it was great fun, again and again we did it, she seemed to love it and told me to ”bang it in each time really hard” though I was worried about hurting her and said so. She said I was not to be worried and “really go for it, really hammer it in I couldn’t possibly hurt her, it was all fun, and she wanted to feel my balls hitting her under there…! She began to get short of breath, then her hips rose up off of the bed and she began to cry out “YES, yes, YES,” so as she was enjoying it, I just kept on at it for her. my hands gripping into her titties and my willy spitting that stuff we make, up deep into her body, and that felt wonderful. Her eyes were rolling, and she began begging me to stop, which I did, though I wasn’t keen to stop, and we lay with my willy still up in her and me on top of her.
She asked me to get off for a while, she needed to rest. So… we lay together, her titties marked by my fingers and goo running from her lower down bits. My willy still stiff as a poker, eager to have her enjoy herself some more and that dratted foghorn still rattling the windows so we couldn’t sleep.
We did it again after a while, this time her eyes rolling more and her breath getting faster, much quicker, she had me suck on her titties this time, she called the brown bits “nipples” and it was fun, but she hadn’t the energy I have and after I had filled her twice more she was soon begging me to stop again, saying she was “well fucked, whatever that meant!
We lay together dozing as well as we could with that blessed noise rattling the windows, till she got up to do breakfast, and back in my PJ`s I took dads up to him high in the light. He said I looked, “bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning, had something changed?” so I told him mum, had shown me a lot last night, but with no hearing aid in and that bloody old horn blaring, I doubt he heard what I answered. So, saying I would relieve him at 10 so he could get some kip, I returned to the kitchen. As we ate mum said, “that I must not tell anyone about what we had done together or she would get in trouble, me being her son and all!”
I promise, though I said I had just told dad which she said was.” OK!” then said, “We had agreed it was time you knew, but no-one else must ever know!” which I said, “suited me as long as we could do it again soon!” which she smiled at.
I relieved dad at 10 as I promised and was to call him straight away if anything changed. I sat and drew a convenient gull that sat out on the walkway for me. I find the local gulls know me and are not scared of me nowadays. All was at peace with the world, it would be Monday soon and school would beckon, but there was always Miss Kennedy.
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