Paul
- 5 years ago
- 26
- 0
It was the summer of 1948, a strange but exciting time in my life, in more ways than one. I lived with my mother and brother in the house I was born in, along the tree lined streets of Mayfield, Connecticut. Mayfield was a typical New England town, old and rich in history, but also left behind in many ways. The War had taken most of its men; some had returned, ... others not.
One of those who would never come back was my father, killed in the Pacific, September 1st, 1945; one day before VJ Day. It would be nice to say that I had many fond memories of him, remembrances of my early childhood with him, but the truth was that I didn’t.
He had signed up the day after Pearl Harbor, leaving his wife, my mother, home alone with my brother and myself. I was only nine when he left, and although I knew something terrible was happening at the time, I had no concept of what his leaving meant, or understood the fact that he might never return.
He would only return home once during the war, a brief visit in the winter of 1943, just before he would be sent overseas to begin the business of war. I remember my mother crying for days when he left, but when I asked, she would only say that he would be back in a little while. But it was not to be.
Robbie, my older brother, and I, attended the Saint Mary’s Catholic School down at the end of our neighborhood, the very same church our mother would faithfully attend every Sunday morning, along with many other times during the week. She was very active among the parish, helping with all of the church’s functions and volunteering to do what she could, considering it to be her duty as a good Catholic.
And as you might guess, she tried to raise the two of us under the same guiding light; no drinking (other than wine at church), no swearing (especially taking if the Lord’s name in vain) and proper behavior at all times. But it would be this summer that it would change. This summer would bring to me events that would forever alter the way that I perceived life, or perhaps how it perceived me.
It was Sunday afternoon, home after having attended the morning Mass as we did every Sunday, and I had been sent straight to my room to remove my Church clothes as not to dirty them. I fiddled around a bit in my room, thinking of what I might do that day, and after returning down stairs I walked into the kitchen. Mom was starting her cooking as she did every Sunday afternoon, and I asked her if I could go over to my friend Betty’s house. I had seen Betty in church that morning and she had invited me to come over and spend time with her.
“Okay Dear...” My mother answered, “ ... but I want you home no later than four o’clock, I’m cooking a roast for dinner.”
“I promise.” I hollered to my mother as I raced out the back Kitchen door.
I had been late once, and only once, but remembered well how angry my mother had been. But the alternative was less pleasant, because being in the house on a Sunday afternoon meant that chores would be assigned, and I had no thirst for spending my afternoon cleaning around the house. And because of just that, when I arrived at Betty’s house to find out that her mother had decided that they would be driving over to Betty’s Grandmother’s for the day and that she could not spend time with me, that my heart sank.
Robbie was already gone for the day before I had left, having grabbed his baseball bat and glove and gone to play with the other boys at the park. I had stopped there for a while to watch, and sat quietly hoping they might ask for me to join in the fun. But even through all of the older boys kept looking at me with interest, they had no interest in asking a younger kid like me to play, let alone a girl.
So, again rejected, I walked around the neighborhood for a while, trying to find something to do to pass the time away, but eventually the day’s heat and my boredom led to the decision to just go on home. Walking down the street, kicking little stones along the cracked sidewalk along the way, I turned the corner of our street and saw Father Paul’s old car parked in our driveway.
It was nothing out of the ordinary, Father Paul, who was the priest at our church, would come by frequently to sit in our living room with my mother and talk about church business; who would do what for the upcoming bake sale, ideas for the school, and the occasional gossip of who hadn’t been attending Mass lately.
Father Paul seemed to me to be a strange man, something I couldn’t put my finger on exactly, but yet still there.
When in church, or standing behind the pulpit, he would talk softly of the words of God, but in school he was very stern.
No one, and I mean no one, wanted to be sent to his office.
For any reason.
But, whenever he was over at our house, he always seemed to be very pleasant and I liked him. He was what I had considered a handsome man for his age, always looking proper and sparkly clean in his suit. And as I neared the house, the thought occurred to me that as long as Father Paul and my mother were sitting in the living room, drinking their coffee, as they always did, the topic of how they all missed coffee so much during the War always coming up, that perhaps I wouldn’t be asked to work cleaning the house if could only manage to sneak in and make it up to my room.
So, quietly I cut across our next door neighbor’s lawn and made my way to the back of the house, ducking to avoid being seen through the front windows. Making my way to the back kitchen door, I peeked through the screen door and tried to see down the long hallway and into the living room at the front of the house. All seemed clear, they must have been sitting on the sofa I reasoned, and so slowly I began to open the screen door, careful not to open it too quickly as it might rattle or squeak, and stepping gingerly inside the kitchen I pulled the door gently closed, again as to make no noise. I tiptoed through the kitchen and made my way toward the stairs, stopping only to peek around the corner to see just exactly where my mother and Father Paul were, as I didn’t hear them talking.
But to my surprise, they were not sitting in the living room as I had expected. I stood for a moment, puzzled, as I began to wonder where they were. I knew for certain that was Father Paul’s car sitting in our driveway, I had seen it there plenty of times before to recognize it as his.
But as I stood there silently, slowly my ears began to hear faint but audible noises as they drifted down the stairs where I stood. They were not the sounds of voice, but strange and eerie noises, ghostly noises, and a chill ran down my spine.
And as I stood there, straining to make sense of the strangeness emanating from up the stairs, a sudden and loud moan echoed down the hallway and down to me, causing my body to clench in panic.
“What was that?” My mind raced.
It sounded like someone in pain. Was it my mother? Was she hurt? And I began to feel very afraid. But i couldn’t just stand there, I had to do something, so I slowly and very frightfully began to climb the stairs, one step, then another, then another, still listening intently to decipher the faint noises.
It was then that another loud moan appeared, but it was followed by the distinct sound of laughter, faint but recognizable, and my mind began to spin yet again. Who was that? WHAT was that? And so I continued to slowly climb the stairs, halting only when I reached the top. I stood for a moment and it became very clear to me that the noises I heard were coming from my mother’s bedroom.
Again I heard the eerie noises, growing louder as I continued to creep towards her door, afraid of what horror that might await. Mother’s door was closed, but not entirely, left slightly ajar as we had always been taught to do. “Just in case there is an emergency...” My mother had always insisted. Slowly I took my final step toward the door and leaned my head toward the small gap, safe from view but terrified of what I might see.
I was immediately struck by what I saw, not in the room itself, but in the Mother’s full length dressing mirror. Standing by Mother’s bed was Father Paul, still dressed in his suit, but to my total shock, he stood there with his penis sticking straight out from his opened zipper. And if that were not terrifying enough, there was my mother kneeling before him; her blouse opened wide and hanging off her shoulders, her brassiere pulled down but not off her chest, cradling her breasts and lifting them upward, her nipples exposed and looking large and hard, but shocking most of all was the fact that what I could see of Father Paul’s penis was only the remainder of what was not inside of my mother’s mouth.
Raised as I was, I will admit that I was very naïve when it came to the subject of boys, but I knew what a penis was, or at least thought I had. I had seen one from an infant, Betty’s little baby brother to be exact as he was having his diaper changed, but what I saw before me was so completely different as to scare me.
It looked absolutely huge, large enough that it strained my mothers lips to surround it as it sat in her mouth, her spit gathered at the corners of her lips and running down her cheeks.
I was petrified.
But as the initial panic began to subside, I began to to notice in growing detail what was happening. Father Paul and his hands on my mother’s head, his fingers gently woven into her hair, its loose bun hanging as it came unwound. As she knelt before Father Paul, I watched as mother’s one hand slid its way back and forth between her breasts, stopping at each one to pinch at her nipples, tugging and rolling them between her fingers, her other hand was buried down between her legs, tucked under her skirt and hidden from view.
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Fetish= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age...
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Grass is Greener On the Other Side 2: Learning Can Be Fun By shalimar Steve woke up in a fog and felt pains all over his body. All of his bones felt as if they were crushed. His insides near his groin felt like they were gouged out. He had a sore throat. He felt soreness on his chest. His face felt like it was pushed around. Except for his head above his ears his skin felt like every hair on his body was pulled out one at a time the most painful way. And through all this pain...
Sweet blonde babe, Tristan Summers, slays in her black lacy lingerie and knee-high stockings as she touches her full-grown boobies and frail-looking body to satisfy her lust. But doing so just wasn’t enough. She decides to show off her navel piercing before bending over, teasing Tyler D with her tight asshole and shaved pinkish pussy. Tyler couldn’t resist the horny blonde so he inserts his fingers into her hole before letting her give him a sloppy blowjob. Not able to control their lust any...
xmoviesforyouBzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzt.Madeline felt, rather than heard the soft buzzing, as her phone vibrated quietly. An incoming text! The three of them - herself, her son Tommy and her mother - were on their way back home after an afternoon of hiking and playing at the party. Tommy was in the back seat, eyelids heavy and his head just starting to nod sleepily.'Finally,' she thought. Glancing at her Mom in the driver's seat, to make sure she wasn't watching - Mother had already commented on how frequently...
Mom Fulfills Son's Desires: Part 2Tim was up early on Sunday, he was anxious to see what the next session with his mother was going to entail. Since he wasn’t supposed to press his raging hard-on against her ass when his dad was around he wasn’t sure how he would be able to play with his mother’s sexy body.He stopped at the kitchen door to get a feel for the situation before he ventured in. Jill, his mother, was standing near the table wearing a straight skirt, which stopped just above her...
by Michael Richard on Friday, November 21, 2008.Once upon a time, (it might have been just last Sunday), on a street far away, (it might have been just past that old house that everyone thinks is haunted, and around the corner), there lived a grumpy old man. However this story doesn't have anything to do with him, we're just here to say hello because being so grumpy, his c***dren no longer come around to say hi anymore. So after a quick cup of tea, and some biscuits we'll be on our way to the...
He stared at his computer screen as it went black. He did what he had to do, he needed to get on with his life and career and he couldn't afford to have the distractions that the internet had already caused him. He was going to miss Tay, a lot but this was for the best. She needed to have a normal life and get some more friends. Granted he should have just disappeared like he had thought of doing, but he just couldn't bring himself to do that. He was half way in love with her and they had...
When Jaycee Starrs annoying stepbrother finds her dildo in his room, he is a little pissed off. She explains that she has to hide it there because their mom does not want her playing with herself. To keep her stepbros mouth shut, she sucks his cock! Later, Jaycee accuses her stepbrother of stealing the batteries to her sex toy. He tells her that she should just use the real thing. She takes the offer, hopping on his dick for a sultry ride. A couple days later, Jaycees stepbrother still has not...
xmoviesforyouThe day after Dawn had given herself to me I was confused, had I taken her, had she taken me, had I been set up by Dawn and Helen, who was in control here. Dawn had returned to head office and I was wandering round my office, there was still the faint stain under my desk where Dawn had been squatting and sucking me off, her cunt had been dripping her juices and with a faint hint of piss which must have squeezed out as I pumped down her throat causing her to wretch and gag as she took my swollen...
There's no hotter show for a teenaged girl this year than popstar heartthrob Jason Barker, and getting tickets to a one-night only performance in a major city requires serious effort, money or influence. Fortunately for Erika van Blakt, student at the prestigious Sutton Girls School and spoiled daughter of a multi-millionaire mining magnate from South Africa, her father's business connections give her access to all three. And so, returning from a morning jog around the grounds, the slim beauty...
InterracialPart 1 Chapter 1 Having been married for twelve years, our life seemed good. Twin girls age eleven and a son age nine. Then we had the little one Mary, who was now three. My little pride and joy. I have a good job as a computer programmer. I work for a major company and I also do a lot of side jobs on my own. It takes a lot of money to raise a family this size. Barbara was a homemaker, a darn good one. We decided after getting married that she wanted to be a full time mother, especially...
The orderly queue had slowly but surely descended into a jostling chaotic snake of passengers. The normal Western reserve had begun to crumble as more and more military vehicles appeared on the airport tarmac and outside the entrance hall. The military coup had come so quickly that even the international news agencies were only just getting the first patchy information. The presidential palace had been stormed and although the world carried on around them things had changed. Everyone in the...
CHAPTER 2 – THE CLEANER Atlas is a person with a very dark story. He has seen things most people would be scarred for life if they saw. And he has done even worse. In order to survive in such conditions, one must be able to keep his temple, his body, trained hard to withstand the harshness. But there’s one thing that can never be withstandable no matter how hard one has trained. “Goddamit!” “What? Are you ok?” “What did you feel these bags with? Rocks and bricks?” “Hey, it’s...