I am Letuchi, nickname of Leticia, 44 years old, slender, chestnut clear eyes, all natural and in its place. Mother of Eze 18 years old. After the prologue this passed and keeps passing in my life.
Being a mother of teenagers is difficult, and more so when life's circumstances attack your maturity. I thought I had started a sad and boring Sunday like every Sunday, but it wasn't that way. Abandoned by my husband, absorbed by my toxic mother-in-law, the minutes of the Sunday siesta turned into hours and my thoughts flew inversely proportional. My baby in his room, me and my boredom in the living room. Do I need something? (What needed to do was I) That day I learned that the alarm voice - Eze is everything fine? - should never be simultaneous with the action of opening the door to his room.
Seated in front of the PC, left hand going down inside the sports short towards his cock and right on the mouse, I shouted WHAT DO YOU WANT!!!! Embarrassed and annoyed. I, embarrassed, pretended not to see anything. The opportune neuron suggested asking for his opinion, like a man, in my spring-summer wardrobe 2019, with the intention of getting me out of the room. Like a lady, I understood the message and only said get ready in a bit I'll be there. Nervous, trying to compose what was discomposed, I went to my closet to start my parade of disguises (I mean all that clothes that for some reason women have trouble getting rid of) While choosing, I tried to remember the looks I always noticed in my son and his friends. Let's start with shorts and muscular ones. I warned him and before entering, I knocked. He received me with his t-shirt, long sports pants.
What do you think of the set? Does the short fit me well or is it too tight? It fits you barbarically, but what does Daddy think? I didn't respond, deaf ears was my strategy. Do I try other things?.... Well, if you want, he responded, but already not so annoyed. I went to my closet and looked for the rags that most They were adjusting and taking him to his room. He tried to resist but I overwhelmed him by talking and ordering him to put on music. The second set, mini jeans top white. I asked him to be my mirror so I could see how it fell on my back. The reluctant one only said it looks good on you like Muhammad didn't come to the mountain... I went to his bed, turned around and told him to adjust my skirt (pulling out Booty) and mark the limit by folding it to rework the ring. My glutes were already hinting at themselves. His desire, excitement, was winning over his fear, shame, nerves. I just wanted to have fun, didn't think about the effect it would have on him. I pulled him out to dance, he trying to hide his erection (which I discovered later) started swaying me up and down with my mini skirt and biting my lips while smiling. Suddenly I felt his hands pressing my breasts from behind and simultaneously his tongue tracing my neck. Try to lower your hands to my waist, his panting and tongue increased, his clumsy movements, brusque rubbing his cock on my Booty startled me, I wanted to control the situation that I had uncontrolled. I turned around, he kept pressing me against his body and sucking my neck. Wait, I repeated, but he didn't hear until the sound of the door announced the arrival of the father. I ran and locked myself in the bathroom, opened the shower, my body was trembling, it was shivering, I sat on the toilet and covered myself with my heel as if trying not to be seen. What madness! When I finally had the strength to come out of my hiding place, I scoured my home, would it be destroyed? My husband was sitting watching football, I don't know where from, Eze came out of his room when he heard me, he was expectant and anxious, and I avoided him. The day ended but a stage had begun in my life, the longest and most conflictive night had touched feelings, culture, desire, morbidness, nerves, doubts... In my head I had decided to put an end to this mess that my madness had initiated, I didn't have a plan or idea of how to face it. Monday. It started with each one in their work and study activities, the usual meeting was in the afternoon, I went to my house from work with gallantry knowing he would be waiting for me like every Monday. He did it that way, and came to meet me, surely it was what he had thought all day. He wanted to go back on Sunday and I wanted (I don't know what I wanted) Wait, we're not going to chat on Friday, I'll tell Dad you're coming with me to the fifth for us to start preparing for summer. My trembling became chronic. The week passed with scratches, I didn't know how to stop that whirlwind. On Thursday night while we were eating, I told him prepare your bag tomorrow I'll pick you up and we'll go to the fifth Dad comes on Saturday at noon. We have many things to do - Friday arrives, his bag is at the door, he's in his studies
Being a mother of teenagers is difficult, and more so when life's circumstances attack your maturity. I thought I had started a sad and boring Sunday like every Sunday, but it wasn't that way. Abandoned by my husband, absorbed by my toxic mother-in-law, the minutes of the Sunday siesta turned into hours and my thoughts flew inversely proportional. My baby in his room, me and my boredom in the living room. Do I need something? (What needed to do was I) That day I learned that the alarm voice - Eze is everything fine? - should never be simultaneous with the action of opening the door to his room.
Seated in front of the PC, left hand going down inside the sports short towards his cock and right on the mouse, I shouted WHAT DO YOU WANT!!!! Embarrassed and annoyed. I, embarrassed, pretended not to see anything. The opportune neuron suggested asking for his opinion, like a man, in my spring-summer wardrobe 2019, with the intention of getting me out of the room. Like a lady, I understood the message and only said get ready in a bit I'll be there. Nervous, trying to compose what was discomposed, I went to my closet to start my parade of disguises (I mean all that clothes that for some reason women have trouble getting rid of) While choosing, I tried to remember the looks I always noticed in my son and his friends. Let's start with shorts and muscular ones. I warned him and before entering, I knocked. He received me with his t-shirt, long sports pants.
What do you think of the set? Does the short fit me well or is it too tight? It fits you barbarically, but what does Daddy think? I didn't respond, deaf ears was my strategy. Do I try other things?.... Well, if you want, he responded, but already not so annoyed. I went to my closet and looked for the rags that most They were adjusting and taking him to his room. He tried to resist but I overwhelmed him by talking and ordering him to put on music. The second set, mini jeans top white. I asked him to be my mirror so I could see how it fell on my back. The reluctant one only said it looks good on you like Muhammad didn't come to the mountain... I went to his bed, turned around and told him to adjust my skirt (pulling out Booty) and mark the limit by folding it to rework the ring. My glutes were already hinting at themselves. His desire, excitement, was winning over his fear, shame, nerves. I just wanted to have fun, didn't think about the effect it would have on him. I pulled him out to dance, he trying to hide his erection (which I discovered later) started swaying me up and down with my mini skirt and biting my lips while smiling. Suddenly I felt his hands pressing my breasts from behind and simultaneously his tongue tracing my neck. Try to lower your hands to my waist, his panting and tongue increased, his clumsy movements, brusque rubbing his cock on my Booty startled me, I wanted to control the situation that I had uncontrolled. I turned around, he kept pressing me against his body and sucking my neck. Wait, I repeated, but he didn't hear until the sound of the door announced the arrival of the father. I ran and locked myself in the bathroom, opened the shower, my body was trembling, it was shivering, I sat on the toilet and covered myself with my heel as if trying not to be seen. What madness! When I finally had the strength to come out of my hiding place, I scoured my home, would it be destroyed? My husband was sitting watching football, I don't know where from, Eze came out of his room when he heard me, he was expectant and anxious, and I avoided him. The day ended but a stage had begun in my life, the longest and most conflictive night had touched feelings, culture, desire, morbidness, nerves, doubts... In my head I had decided to put an end to this mess that my madness had initiated, I didn't have a plan or idea of how to face it. Monday. It started with each one in their work and study activities, the usual meeting was in the afternoon, I went to my house from work with gallantry knowing he would be waiting for me like every Monday. He did it that way, and came to meet me, surely it was what he had thought all day. He wanted to go back on Sunday and I wanted (I don't know what I wanted) Wait, we're not going to chat on Friday, I'll tell Dad you're coming with me to the fifth for us to start preparing for summer. My trembling became chronic. The week passed with scratches, I didn't know how to stop that whirlwind. On Thursday night while we were eating, I told him prepare your bag tomorrow I'll pick you up and we'll go to the fifth Dad comes on Saturday at noon. We have many things to do - Friday arrives, his bag is at the door, he's in his studies
5 comentários - This is my story