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He pulled the panties away and held them in front of my eyes. "See that, see that white, crusty stain there in the middle? "That's where your mother's hairy little pussy drenched her undies. " Mom put her hands on her hips and did a slow twirl around, ending with a sexy pose with her hands behind her head. Then, for some reason, I gave her a few seconds and followed.They were turned inside out so that the crotch was showing. " I didn't want to look, but my dad's huge hand was holding the back of my head like a softball and directing where my eyes pointed. Oh, they were all wet when she got her juices flowing. When it got hot, the bathroom door doesn't latch completely when you swing it shut; you have to consciously push it closed."How do you like the taste of your mom's dirty cunt, son? He wasn't lying, because the hair was exactly the same color as the short hair on my mother's head: light red. Like ALL mine has already been withdrawn from the sperm bank. Never turning around also meant I never saw her boobs or bush.The only difference was that the hair on her head was straight, and this one was incredibly curly. " I answered like I was in a bad dream because this made no sense at all. And his will left 4.7 MILLION dollars to your mother." "WHAT? That's where YOU come in, with the emphasis on 'cum.'" So that was his plan. She stepped out of her shorts with one foot, and kicked them up on top of the clothes in the portable nylon hamper we kept in the bathroom with the other. I sat in the kitchen, absentmindedly eating a snack of cookies and milk while listening to the shower water run.There was a slight fragrance of perfume, a little urine, and a lot of feminine musk.I think it was feminine musk, because I had never smelled a pussy before. " he said, hurting me a little more while he ignored my question. not too much, Mom." "Get yourself a snack while I shower." I was going to do exactly what she said until I saw her turn and head for the bathroom.
To protect their privacy, I’ve used initials instead of their full names."This is what your mother's pussy smells like," my father told me. " When he said this, I had not yet inhaled, and I was struggling not to do so. He was 6'3" of pure testosterone while I was 5'2" of video-game-trained flab.Finally, I gasped for air through the wadded up pair of panties he held to my mouth and nose." ************************************ I'd love to tell you that my father's words had no effect on me, but that would be a lie. I filled my mouth with the inner lining of the shorts and sucked hard and swallowed as much perspiration and vaginal fluid as I could. You're ridiculous with how you've always been jealous. But, Charlie, he knows his stuff." Dad put the laptop on my desk and opened it. "I had Charlie put something he called a key-logger on your mom's computer. It showed she was chatting up somebody by the name of Ba Bee Boy69 on a site called..." Dad took a slip of paper out of his breast pocket and read: "Shy Boys4" I could only shake my head and open my mouth without a sound even making an attempt to come out. "Now, if it had just been me, the trail would have ended there. This stuff's easy for him and he does it all day long. " "Just wanted to tell you I found that file, and if it got into your permanent record, that big fancy school you got accepted to-and, all those other schools-would have no trouble saying so long to your college career.All day long I had constant visions of my mother, accompanied by the memory of her smell and taste. It tasted like nothing I had ever experienced before. I don't want to hear it." "Eh, maybe you're right," Dad said. "Computer Forensics Specialist, if you want to be specific. He traced Ba Bee Boy69 back to a 57-year-old guy living with his own mother right here in town. But, on the bright side, I hear they're hiring down at the shipping depot: 12-hour shifts at night. There was a red number one showing Ba Bee Boy69 had a message. I clicked it and it showed: "Can't wait to talk with you tonight at 8." It was from Lil Red Ryder.
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But, instead of using more force, Dad merely said, in a quiet tone that was even scarier than his usual yelling: "If you don't stick out your tongue, I'm going to stuff these down your throat." I stuck out my tongue. There, just like my school-time visions was Mom in her robe, facing away from me.