My Wife My Mommie part2
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Danny's Mom - Part 1 free porn video
Danny's Mom - Part 1
In which we learn that Danny's Father is dead, his mother begins to
complain about his appearance, he puts on panties for the first time,
gets his ears pierced, and gets a hand job from his girlfriend.
June
Man, basketball is my favorite sport. The driveway up to our house is
kind of long and winding, but there's one spot where it's flat and wider
than usual and Dad and I were able to create a passable basketball court
by putting backstops diagonally on either side of the driveway at that
point. It's not perfect, only about 2/3 the size of a regulation court,
and if you run off the court at the wrong spot you end up in the
raspberry bushes. But even with that it's way better than the single-
backstop arrangements that my friends have at their houses. So usually
at least three or so times a week between eight and twelve of my friends
will be playing a game after school or in the evening.
Now, when we play basketball, our "game" is a mix of basketball,
football, wrestling, kickboxing, and - well, if you get the idea that
"anything goes," you're right. We did slow things down a little bit
about six months ago after a particularly rough game. There was one
pileup on the court and I heard someone scream from the bottom of the
pile. And when the pileup broke apart and Brett stood up, his face was
white as a sheet, and he was holding his right arm out in front of him,
and we could see that the forearm was bent at a funny angle, and then we
saw the bone sticking out through the skin and the blood before Brett's
eyes rolled up in his head and he fainted.
Well, it turned out OK because the break healed - even though he does
have a puckered reddish-purple scar about five inches long on his
forearm arm. But Brett's playing it for all it's worth. He wears short-
sleeved shirts that show it off. And whenever he's sitting down he'll
have his arm on the desk or table turned so that the scar shows. And the
girls will stop by and look. I asked him why he did that and he
responded that the scar is a real "chick magnet!" One girl asked him if
she could touch the scar and when Brett said yes and she gingerly
touched it, Brett drew in his breath and winced a little. I asked him
the next day if it really did still hurt when she touched it and he
responded: "No, not a bit. But she felt sorry for hurting me. So I got
to walk her home and I got a handjob out of it." Go for it Brett.
And sometimes after supper Dad and I would go out and shoot baskets. But
that was before, well.... just.... before.
July
Dad died at the end of July. I guess the best that you can say is that
the cancer took him fast so he didn't suffer too long. It was pretty
tough on both Mom and me as we had been a close-knit family, but Mom and
I supported each other as best as we knew how to.
August
My Mom started getting really possessive after my father died. I'm an
only child and both she and Dad always paid a lot of attention to me.
But since it's just the two of us now in the house, it seems like she
has nothing better to do than constantly check up on me. While it's
really irritating, I put up with it because I know the strain that she's
under. It's got to be tough to live with someone for almost thirty years
and then have them die suddenly. I guess that I'm all that she's really
got left right now. So when she bugs me about spending more time with
her, or not going out as much at night with my friends, I put up with
it. I'm just looking forward to when she develops some outside interests
and makes some new friends so that she'll have something else to occupy
her time.
I was coming into the house after a basketball game last night when Mom
yelled at me: "You're not coming in with those smelly things on." Well,
I had to admit that maybe I didn't smell that great. My basketball
"uniform" is a pair of old cutoff jeans and a sweatshirt with the arms
cut off, and my basketball footwear is an old pair of sneakers held
together with duct tape. And none of these items had seen a washing
machine since - well, I'm not sure when - probably last summer, maybe.
So I went back out into the garage, and Mom went up to my room and got
some clean clothes and brought them down to me and I changed in the
garage before she'd let me into the house. "That's better," she said,
"But now go upstairs and take a shower." "OK. Yeah Mom, whatever," I
just said.
Had a date with Vic last night - well, not a "date" date, really - just
a bunch of us got together at the mall and went to a movie and then hung
out in the food court till we got kicked out at closing time. For some
reason, even though her full name is Victoria, she ended up being called
"Vic" by everybody, instead of Vickie - doesn't bother her though. We've
been friends for a couple of years and usually do something together
every week or so. She's cute, and fun to be with, so I guess you could
call her my girlfriend.
I was heading out of the house yesterday and she asked me where I was
going. I told her that I was going to find some place to get my hair
cut. Now before saying any more, you have to understand my attitude
toward my hair: it grows, it gets cut, it grows some more, it eventually
gets cut, and so forth. What it looks like in-between I don't really
care. For some reason Mom got on my case about my hair: how I wasn't
taking good care of it, how it looks so sloppy, and so on, and how she
thinks it could look much nicer.
"So OK Mom" I said, "What's the point?" The point was that she wanted to
show me how it should be cared for. "But it's too long. Look, it's
almost down to my shoulders" I said. Well, nothing was going to change
her mind so I spent a couple of hours with my head over the kitchen sink
while she washed it, and then put conditioner on it, and on and on. She
ended up parting it in the center so that it sweeps down and then back
over my ears. She was really pleased with the results. I've got to admit
that it looks a lot different, but I'm not that wild about keeping it
that long. I had figured that I'd just get it chopped off short so that
I didn't have to worry about taking care of it. But now I have to
shampoo and condition it every couple of days. Mom keeps commenting on
how nice it looks though, so I guess it's worth it to keep her happy.
Dad used to do most of the maintenance work on our old car - I think he
really liked to just putter around under the hood. Even though it's
almost 11 years old, it still runs pretty good, as long as you spend a
couple of hours every week adjusting things, and doing small maintenance
on it, and stuff like that. I was working on it yesterday morning,
changing the oil and the filter and when I came in for lunch, Mom got on
my case again. "Look at your hands. What a mess." And so on. So I'd
cracked a couple of fingernails, and there was dirt and oil under the
nails. It would eventually wash off or wear away. She wouldn't have
that, though. She made me wash my hands as clean as I could get them,
and then she took something, I think she called it a "rosewood stick,"
and cleaned my nails for me. Finally after my hands were sparkling I
could have lunch.
"What a waste of time," I told her. "They're just going to get dirty
again the next time."
"No they're not," she said. "We're going to have the garage take care of
the car from now on." So I guess that's the way it's going to be from
now on. I did like working on the car, but as she said it's a pretty
messy operation.
Mom gave me a present this morning - some new clothes to wear when I was
playing basketball. "What happened to the old ones?" I asked.
"Oh, I couldn't get them clean even after I washed them several times so
I threw them out. And these new ones look so much nicer," she said.
Well, I had to admit that they looked different - but nicer? I'm not
sure. The shirt was a powder blue knit shirt, and the shorts were jeans
but bleached white in color and they only came about half way down to my
knees. And the shoes? Well they were jogging shoes but they had these
little flashing red LEDs in the heels. "Don't complain," she said when
she saw the look on my face, "they were on sale and I got them at a very
reasonable price."
The first time I wore them I got a couple of wolf whistles from my
friends. Oh well, I guess I can hope that the batteries for the LEDs
wear out soon...... Just in case, though, I rummaged around in the trash
and found my old basketball clothes and shoes that Mom had thrown out,
and I hid them in the garage so that I could still wear them when I was
playing basketball whenever Mom wasn't around.
It's not only the car she doesn't want me to work on. Just about
anything that could involve any kind of exertion or dirt is frowned
upon. "Let somebody else do that," is becoming a very familiar refrain
around the house. It's like she's constantly keeping track of me. The
minute my hair's a little unruly, or my hands are dirty, or there's a
stain on my shirt, or I'm wearing the same pair of jeans for two days in
a row, it's "Danny, time to clean up now honey." I don't think I've ever
been cleaner or neater in my life. At least when I've cleaned up she
does compliment me, telling me how nice I look, and how proud she is
that I'm her son. OK Mom, enough is enough.
September
Whenever she's not checking up on my appearance, or cleaning up around
the house, Mom goes shopping. She's tried to get me to go with her but
no way. My method of shopping is the "slam, bang" method. I run in the
store, grab what I need, pay for it, and get out as fast as possible.
Mom make a real production out of it - sometimes I think that the longer
it takes her to get just what she wants, the better. I'm not sure about
her taste sometimes, though. The other day she came home and announced
that she had bought a "present" for me. Some present - a dozen pairs of
tan bikini briefs - they look more like something a girl would wear than
what a guy would wear. Now personally I prefer cotton jockey briefs.
They feel good and I like the support they provide. (And I wouldn't
admit this to Mom, but if I dribble a couple of drops after taking a
leak, they soak it up pretty well.)
But after Mom bugged me a couple of times, I tried on one of the pairs
of bikini briefs and even wore them for the afternoon. They didn't feel
really comfortable under my jeans though, I didn't like the feeling of
the smooth silk fabric (or nylon or whatever the hell they were made
of), so I just shoved the dozen pairs in the back of my underwear drawer
- kind of like filing them under "presents to be forgotten."
I sure wish she would let me get my hair cut. It's grown a couple of
inches and now brushes my shoulders. She won't hear of it though. And
now she's got me spending almost an hour a day taking care of it. Like
in the morning I have to shampoo it and apply conditioner. Then it has
to be dried and brushed. And in the evening it has to be brushed again.
I've got to admit that it does look nice - very full and glossy - but
it's a style that would go better on a girl than a guy. Being as long as
it is, whenever I lean forward it falls on either side of my face and I
have to keep reaching up and brushing it back. I guess I'm doing that
unconsciously now. You know, the movement when someone with long hair
has it fall forward and they keep doing whatever they're doing and just
unconsciously reach up and brush their hair back behind their ears.
Whenever Mom's not around, I'll just put a rubber band on it to hold it
back in a ponytail but she's not big on that. So as soon as she sees me,
the rubber band comes out.
October
Kind of a disappointing date with Vic last night. The Senior Class put
on a play and she and I went to see it. The play itself wasn't all that
good - kind of a rip-off of "South Pacific" and the songs were not my
style. Probably the best thing about the play is that our school has
this huge auditorium and there are a lot of dark, fairly secluded seats
along the sides and in the back. So I talked Vic into sitting over in a
dark corner even though there were lots of seats closer to the stage. We
were just sitting there, kind of snuggled up against each other a
little, and I had my arm around her shoulders. That part was OK. The
part that wasn't OK was that I kept trying to let my arm slip down so
that my hand would rest on her breast and every time I did this she'd
push my hand back up on her shoulder. So it was a fun date, but not as
much "fun" as I had hoped for.
One of my friends came by the house this morning, and when he left Mom
asked me if he was wearing an earring. I said that yeah, a lot of the
guys were wearing these little stud-like things now but that it wasn't a
big deal. I guess I misinterpreted her question because then she asked
me why I didn't get my ears pierced? Pierced ears? "No way Mom! I told
her.
"I guess you're right Danny," she said. "Some people are just afraid of
a couple of seconds of pain."
Me a coward? Now those were fighting words. So just to show her that I
could "take it," we went out to the mall and I got my ears pierced - it
hardly hurt at all. I've got these little stainless steel studs in my
ears till the holes heal up in a week or so. It's not so bad, you can
hardly see them. And once the holes heal and I can take the studs out,
nobody will be able to see anything. It's not that I think an earring
would make me look like a sissy or anything, it's just not my style.
Seems like Mom could do a better job of keeping up with the laundry.
When I went to get dressed this morning my underwear drawer was empty.
Well, there were those pairs of tan bikini briefs wadded up in the back
and since I didn't want to go without underwear, I put a pair of them
on. They sure are small, like they just barely cover up my crotch. What
feels really different though, is when I pull my jeans on. When I'm
wearing my jockey briefs, they pretty cover up the area on my lower
tummy from my navel down to my crotch - now most of that is exposed and
the soft skin there rubs against the rough inside of my tight jeans.
After a couple of minutes walking around the house like this, I had this
big erection. And of course the bikini briefs are so small that when
that happens, everything just kinda pops right out. So now I also have
my dick rubbing against the inside of my jeans. And after a couple of
minutes of that I came - in my jeans! Now it wasn't the mother of all
jerk offs or anything like that, and my jeans got this big wet spot on
the front but Mom wasn't home so I just kept them on as they dried out,
but it's definitely a new way to masturbate. Maybe there's something to
be said for the bikini briefs after all..........
Guess Mom doesn't have enough to keep her busy - like trying to run my
life isn't enough of a full time job for her. She's talking about
redecorating the house. Well, not like tearing everything out and
rebuilding or anything, but she wants to repaint or change the wallpaper
in the rooms, and maybe replace the draperies. Stuff like that. She's
been hauling sample books home for the last week to look at wallpapers,
and paint colors, and fabrics and stuff like that. She's been trying to
get me to help her with her choices but it's like "Mom, I'm not into
interior decorating." I just told her to go ahead and that whatever she
picked would be OK with me.
November
When I came down for breakfast this morning, there was a small box with
gift wrapping sitting on my plate. I asked Mom what it was and she said
that it was just something that she came across while she was shopping
the other day and that she bought it for me on the spur of the moment. I
opened it up and it contained two small diamond earring studs. I'd
planned on just letting the holes in my ears heal over but I couldn't
disappoint her so I let her take out the stainless steel studs and
replace them with the diamond studs. I was afraid the guys were going to
kid me about wearing earrings in both ears but I solved that problem by
changing my hairstyle just a little. I fixed it so that my hair now
hangs down on either side of my face, framing it in sort of a pageboy or
something like that, and my ears are now all covered by the hair. I
guess there's something to be said for long hair after all.
I don't know whether this is a bad winter for colds, or what the problem
is. But it seems like I've had a cold every couple of weeks. Just about
when I'm getting over one, I'll get another. The last one ended up
turning into an ear infection and that was no fun at all. Mom checked
with her doctor and I guess he told her that I might need a vitamin
supplement. So he gave her a prescription and she's got me taking two
tablets in the morning and two in the evening. I always figured vitamins
were off-the shelf and that you just took one a day, but that's not what
this prescription calls for. Oh well, at least she didn't get me the
Fred Flintstone kiddie kind.
Hey! Made some progress with Vic last night! I got her to give me a hand
job! Well, sort of a hand job. Like, we had gone to a movie and the
theatre wasn't too filled so we had a little privacy. So anyway, about
halfway through the movie she did let my drop my hand down to her breast
and gently rub it a little. Well, it wasn't like I was really feeling
her up or anything, but that was the first time that she'd let me touch
her there. So I was getting pretty turned on and from the tight feeling
in my crotch I knew I had a pretty good erection and I guess maybe it
showed through my jeans. Vic was getting pretty warmed up too because
she was snuggling up against me really tight and then she moved her hand
over and slowly began to rub my erection through my jeans.
So we're watching the movie and I'm rubbing her breast as she's stroking
my cock and all of a sudden I couldn't hold it anymore and shot my load
in my jeans. Of course the skimpy bikini briefs that Mom bought wouldn't
soak up anything so I now had this big wet spot in my crotch where Vic
had been rubbing me. She must have thought that was funny as she giggled
a little. I tried to slide my hand over into her crotch but she pushed
it away and whispered "I'm not ready for that yet" in my ear - but then
she kissed me on the cheek. When I got home that night and was thinking
about the "hand job" I got so turned on that I put my hands down on my
crotch and started stroking myself and came in my jeans for the second
time that night.
Mom must have noticed that I've worn the bikini briefs every so often.
Like, maybe the stains on them kinda told her something? I was looking
for a pair of jockey briefs last week and couldn't find any. I asked her
and she said that she thought I preferred the bikini briefs now so she
had thrown all my other underwear out. I guess that's OK with me. It
turns out that I really like the feel of the skimpy briefs better than
the jockey briefs anyway - just took me awhile to get use to them. But
Mom sure knows how to take a good thing too far.
A couple of days after that she went to the store and got me some more
bikini briefs, and some undershirts too. Like, I had been wearing white
cotton t-shirts but those were regular underwear. The new ones are the
style with no arms and a larger opening at the neck, and just thin
straps over the shoulders. I guess I could have lived with that but they
were silk or some kind of silk-like fabric! I asked her what was the
idea, and she said that these had been on sale and cost a lot less than
the cotton ones and that she didn't think that I'd mind. So now I'm
wearing silk underwear. It's kinda funny, but after the first couple of
days I decided that I actually like it better then the cotton. I like
the way it feels so smooth and slippery on my body.
(End of Part 1 - to be continued)
Haven
- 21.07.2022
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