I was born on my mother's 18th birthday. We shared the exact same birthday and I can remember as I was growing up how she would always tell me how much she loved her birthday gift and how lucky she was to have such a beautiful smart son for her birthday. It always made me feel good and warm all over to hear my mother talk about me that way. I knew that she and I together were very special and I loved her with all my heart.

I would have done anything to please her.

She in turn constantly doted on me and used to spend a lot of time with me after school and on weekends and during summer vacations taking me with her every where she went— shopping, to the park, and sometimes to see some romance type movies, and I loved being with her. I could see how men would stare at her and I knew it was because she was so beautiful and that made me proud. (At the time I was still too young to imagine the kind of sexual lust she stirred in those staring men. All I knew is that she was a beautiful, desirable woman to other men, but that she was my mom and belonged to me, and not to them).

My earliest meaningful memories of my mom go back to when I was about six or seven years old. She would have been about

24 or 25 at that time and I think that was when I first became consciously aware of the fact that my mother was a beautiful woman— kind of tall for a woman at the time at 5'

10" with long shapely legs attached to curvaceous hips with a small waist topped by large soft tits with big nipples. She had long, soft, and silky light brown hair that fell just below her shoulders which she used to comb and let hang over one of her eyes in that sultry Hollywood style of the 40's and 50's with large almond shaped brown eyes and full pouty lips which she always painted with bright red lipstick. She loved to wear tight blouses and sweaters like the Hollywood movie stars of that era and I remember how her tits used to jiggle under her blouses and sweaters when she moved and you could see where her nipples were by the way they were poking out against the thin fabric of her clothes. (When I got older those jiggling tits used to turn me on so much that I would fantasize about sucking them while I jacked off). In short, my mom was a knockout— a real sexpot.

Mom and Dad got married when she was a little over 17 I think, but I really don't know. It's just a pure guess on my part by working backwards from my birthday and adding at least nine months for when she was pregnant with me. The truth is that I really know almost nothing about how they met or how they came to be married since Mom never wanted to talk about it, and Dad never talked about anything much at all.

All I know is that Dad was a soldier during the war (WW II) and met my mother around 1945 just before he was to go overseas. The war ended before he had to go and he stayed in the Army for about another 18 months before he was discharged and during that time continued dating mom until they were eventually married.

I don't have any special memories about my Dad. It seems like during my formative growing years he was either working or sleeping. Dad was a big 6'4" tall handsome man who had to drop out of high school at 16 to help his mom and dad make a living for their family and of course he never went to college. I think he was basically a good man that never got a break. He was a plain factory laborer with no particular skills who was always working, and often worked the night and mid-night shifts back to back (night shifts paid more than day shift) to make enough money to support my mom and I. So dad and I never really had a "father-son" relationship. He never treated me badly but he just never had time for me to treat me any way at all. Mom was my love and total support.

We didn't have a TV at home when I was growing up, and when we were at home and not out together on one of our outings to the park or the movies and the like, mom used to read a lot of magazines full of mushy romantic love stories and articles about rich and glamorous Hollywood stars and their escapades.

Sometimes she would play cards or board games (like Gin and

Parchesi) with me to pass the time away. But her favorite pastime was to play records of romantic songs and ballads of that day and dance slowly by herself with her eyes semi-closed and this dreamy, languid expression on her face pretending she was dancing with a man. I used to love to watch her dance that way and wished that I were the man in her arms.

By the time I was nine years old I had grown just tall enough that mom started to ask me to dance with her when she would play her records. She said that she would teach me how to be an expert dancer so that I would be a big hit with all the girls when I started dating.

I wasn't thinking about girls yet and so I really didn't care whether I learned how to dance or not, but I was ecstatic about the idea of holding my mother close and being in her arms with my head resting on her stomach. By the time I was somewhere between 10 and 11 years old I was just tall enough that when we danced my head came to about the level of the middle part of her tits and I could feel their warmth and softness when I laid my head on them as we danced.

How I loved that feeling. I could feel how soft they were on my cheek and could feel her nipples through her clothes pressing on my face. I know mom loved it too because she would put her hand on the back of my head caressing it and pushing it against her tits to make firmer contact.

That's when I began to get these strange warm feelings in the pit of my stomach that extended all over my body and made my stomach tingle. At the time I didn't know exactly what all that meant. All I knew was that I loved being in my mother's arm with my head resting on her tits.

It was also about that same time when I was about 10 or 11 that I became aware that Mom and Dad were not entirely happy together. They frequently had disagreements and arguments in low voices so I couldn't hear what they were fighting about, but I heard enough at various times to understand that it had something to do with sex. Exactly what, I had no clue at the time because what I knew about sex at age 10 or 11 you could put into a thimble.

I knew that girls and women didn't have pricks, but instead had a hole between their legs called a pussy and that babies were made when a man stuck his prick into a woman's pussy, and that was about the extent of my knowledge. Remember, this was the middle 1950's and there was no such thing as sex education in the schools, and polite people didn't talk about sex at all. Whatever it was, it was something that happened behind closed doors by married people.

My sex education took place on the playground where I learned from older kids who tried to act older than they were and talk dirty and brag about how much they knew about sex using words and terms such as fuck, screw, cunt, clit, hitting the moon, shooting a wad, cock-sucking, beating-off, etc. Most of us, including me, didn't know what all those words and terms really meant (and neither did the kids that were using them 95% of the time), but we sure weren't going to open our mouths to ask and then get laughed off the playground.

Anyway, we lived in a simple small two-story, three bedroom wood frame house. The three bedrooms were all upstairs on one side of the house in a row with a long corridor that ran from the head of the stairs at the front of the house to the back of the house where there was a bathroom at the end of the corridor. My Mom and Dad slept in the front bedroom at the head of the stairs and I had the back bedroom next to the bathroom. Mom used the middle bedroom as her sewing room.

I could almost always tell when my parents were having sex at night because sounds traveled easily through the thin wooden walls of those bedrooms and I could often hear the squeaking bed springs and my Dad's grunting from time to time. Of course, I didn't know exactly what he was doing to her at that time, but it's clear now that he was fucking Mom.

Every once in a while, when I was laying in my bed at night not yet asleep listening to Dad fuck Mom, he would suddenly stop and I would hear his feet hit the floor followed by their bedroom door flying open and his heavy footsteps coming down the hall heading to the bathroom. When he would pass my open bedroom door I could see him holding his hard cock in his hand and sometimes he was stroking it.

(During hot summer months it was common for folks like us to sleep with our bedroom doors open and windows up to get a cooling night breeze to flow through the room. We didn't have air conditioning. Even my parents would sleep that way unless they were fucking. It didn't take me long to figure out that whenever their door was closed, that was a good indicator that Dad was going to fuck Mom.)

When he would get to the bathroom he would stay in there for about 5 to 10 minutes and I could sometimes hear him grunting followed by the toilet flushing then after another a minute or two I could hear him take a piss and then the toilet would flush again and he would go back to bed. I later came to understand that whenever that happened he was beating off after fucking mom and shooting his cum into the toilet.

After I became aware that my parents were probably fucking when their bedroom door was closed at night, I used to sneak down the hall and put my ear to the wall where their bed was and listen to them fucking. Most of the time all I would hear is the bed creaking and my dad occasionally grunting as he pounded Mom's pussy and if I was listening carefully I could sometimes hear when he was cumming when he would usually grunt 3 or 4 times quickly in succession followed by a long aaaaaaahhhhhhhh. Then my mother would usually say something like "Ok Herb, now get off me so I can go clean out my cunt."

One night I remember they argued while he was fucking her.

My mom said, "Dammit Herb, what's taking you so long to cream. Hurry up. You're heavy as lead and I'm tired."

Dad said, "Listen bitch, I'll shoot my wad when I'm damn good and ready to. You know if you would move that ass of yours once in a while instead of just laying there like a cold slab of meat it might help. Now shut up and tighten up those cunt muscles of yours. I feel like I'm ramming my cock into an empty cave."

And Mom replied, "There's nothing wrong with my cunt asshole.

It's still the tightest cunt you'll ever find. Did you ever think the problem might be your skinny little pencil thin prick? Why don't you just go down to the toilet and beat it off, that's if you can find it?"

Dad would say, "Why should I? It looks like that's what your cunt is for, since every time I stick my dick in it, it feels just like I'm beating it off anyway. Now start moving that big ass of yours or I'm going to pull out of your cunt cave and ram my cock up your tight little ass. Maybe I'll get some action that way.

And Mom finally said, "Listen Herb, I'm tired of this shit now and I need some sleep. Just get off me and let me beat it off right here so we can both get some sleep." And I could hear my Dad rolling off the top of her and then hear the sounds of her jacking off my Dad's cock until I could hear him grunt followed by his long aaaaahhhhh as he would cum all over my mother's hand.

Then my mother would say, "Dammit, now I got your slimy cream all over my hand and arm. I'm going to have to go scrub it off." That would be my cue to quickly tip toe back down to my room before Mom could get out of bed and head for the bathroom.

On another night I heard Dad trying to get my Mom to let him fuck her.

Dad: "C'mon Angie, roll over and spread your legs, I need a piece of ass."

Mom: "Not tonight Herb. It's the wrong time, so leave me alone."

Dad: "Whadda ya mean not tonight? I'm ready now! And when

I'm ready, it's never the wrong time! Now roll your ass over dammit and open up that cunt."

Mom: "Go away Herb. I said not tonight and I mean it. Why don't you just go down to your favorite street corner and fuck that little whore you're so sweet on and leave me alone.

I know you've fucked her lots of times before."

Dad: "Now give me one good reason why I should pay for a piece of ass with that street whore when I have a free piece of ass right here with a whore I've already bought and paid for."

Mom: (Sobbing) You lousy son of a bitch. You're a real bastard Herb. I'm not a whore and don't you ever forget it.

Dad: Oh yeah, well what do you call it when you fucked and sucked almost every cock in the whole damn platoon before I met you and then after we met and you were telling me how much you loved me and how I was the only man for you, you still pulled a train with almost half of them one night— 15 of them no less. Shorty told me that you fucked each one of them one right after the other and then went back around again and gave each of them a cum swallowing blowjob- only five days before we were married!! Five fucking days!!!

How do you think I felt when I found out about it four months later when some of the guys were asking how I liked the married life and getting a free blow job every night. When I told them you weren't that kind of woman, they laughed their asses off and asked if I didn't know that you were the best whore and cocksucker in town bragging to me about what a great cocksucker you were. That's when Shorty told me how you pulled their train.

You whoring bitch. You made me look like a stupid, hillbilly hick that didn't have any better sense than to marry a whore.

If that's not a whore then I don't know what one is. Accept it baby. You're a whore all right. So start acting like one and spread your legs and open up that cunt cave of yours."

Mom: (sobbing heavily) "You rotten son of a bitch. I didn't make you look like a stupid hillbilly hick because that's what you already were asshole. And that's what you still are. One of these days I'm going to cut your balls off then you won't even need a whore anymore." (more heavy crying)

Dad: "Aw shit, what's the use. I'm going to sleep."

And on yet another night they seemed to be fucking without any distractions and Mom seemed to be really enjoying it by the sounds of her moaning and little squeals of pleasure when my Dad started his grunting just before cumming and all of a sudden I heard my Mom cry out, "Damn you Herb. I told you not to cream in me tonight. It's not the right time. Now

I'm going to have to go and flush out my cunt 3 or 4 times real good and that's going to take almost an hour and make a big mess."

Dad said, "Quit your bitching Angie. What did you want me to do, cum on the bed or all over your tits? You would have bitched more if I had done either one."

Mom replied, "You know Herb, you're a first class asshole.

You could have just pulled out of my cunt as you started to cum and caught your cum in your hand, and it would have been easy to just go down to the bathroom and dump it in the toilet and wash your hand.

Dad answered, "Listen cunt, it will be a cold day in hell before you ever catch me cumming in my hand. That's sick."

Mom said, "No Herb, you're the one that's sick."

Dad sneered at her, "How about it Angie, if next time, I just jam it in your mouth and cum down your throat. I bet you'd like that wouldn't you. It would remind you of your whoring days as a first class cocksucker."

Mom sneered back, "You'll be sorry if you ever try that you bastard because I'll bite the damn thing off." Shorty was right. I was the best damn cocksucker in town, but you will never know it asshole because it'll be the same cold day in hell when you cum in your hand that you will ever get me to suck your cock.

Dad said, "Yeah, yeah, yeah." And he evidently rolled over and went to sleep.

As the days and months passed and I got older and all these things started to coalesce in my young mind I began to understand that my mother was not happy with her life in general and for sure not with her sex life. I didn't understand a lot of the things they said to each other and what they meant when they were fighting in bed like "whore" and "pulling a train" but I instinctively knew that they must be bad and they were saying those things to hurt each other and I didn't understand why.

Sometimes during the day I would observe her crying very quietly to herself trying to hide it so I wouldn't notice.

Sometimes I would try and cheer her up by asking her, "What's wrong Mom? Did I do something wrong? Please don't cry."

She would almost always put her arms around me and hold me tight against her bosom and say something like, "Oh, no, no

Danny. Of course you didn't do anything wrong darling.

You're my precious angel birthday gift and I love you so much. You're so good to me. Mommy was just thinking about a very sad thing that happened a long time ago and it just made me sad for a little while, that's all. Everything's fine.

Why don't we put some records on and dance a little bit, ok?

Would you like that honey?" And of course I always said yes.

One day about a week before my 14th birthday and my Mom's

32nd birthday was just like I described above. Mom had been sitting on the sofa softly crying and I tried to comfort her and she held me tight to her body with my head on her bosom with her nipples pressing on my cheek. That felt really good but after a while she said, "Why don't you dance with me a little honey. That will cheer us up." So we started to dance like we always did when she was especially sad or unhappy.

By then I had grown to where I was almost the same height as

Mom and I couldn't easily rest my head on her tits anymore.

But I held her close so I could feel her soft tits and nipples against my chest, which always made me feel good. It was a warm summer day and Mom and I were both wearing shorts.

As we danced closely together she held me so close that her pussy mound was pressing against my cock and balls and our bare thighs were rubbing against each other. I started to feel that warm little feel-good sensation in the pit of my stomach like I had always felt whenever we danced, and then I started to get a hard-on, but that didn't particularly concern me.

I had gotten hard-ons many times before while dancing with

Mom but nothing ever happened when I did, and Mom always ignored them as nothing out of the ordinary. About the only thing she ever said was when I got a hard-on and it stuck straight out against my pants instead of lying flat against my stomach or running straight down my pant leg against my leg. Then she would smile at me and say, "Danny honey, when your penis gets hard like that and sticks straight out, you need to either make it lay flat against your stomach or push it down your pant leg. It's not polite to let it stick straight out like that."

And I would say, "I know. I'm sorry mom. It's just that sometimes the tip gets stuck against my pants as it starts getting hard and then it just stays there as it gets bigger."

She said, "I know it's not your fault dear. But don't worry. All young boys and men get hard-ons. It's a normal thing to happen. But proper young gentlemen do not call attention to their hard-ons by letting them stick out like a flagpole. Whenever that happens just reach down and either pull it up or push it down, whichever is easier, but don't let it stick straight out. If it embarrasses you to be handling your penis like that, then make out like you're adjusting your belt or something like that. No one will pay any attention to what you're doing."

So this time when my cock started to get hard it was already pointing up laying flat against my stomach and I didn't think any thing was out of the ordinary. I was just enjoying that beautiful feeling that I always got when my body was pressed up tight against my mother's body whenever we danced together.

But as we continued to dance and Mom was swaying her hips to the rhythm of the music her pussy was rubbing the underside of my now rock hard cock. We were pressed up so tight against each other that the shaft of my cock had spread her pussy lips slightly apart and was nestled in the valley of her pussy. The feeling in my stomach spread to my legs and thighs and was beginning to intensify a little. I was loving it because I knew what that feeling meant.

I had been masturbating for over a year by then and I recognized the feeling that was beginning to suffuse my body as I danced with Mom as the same feeling I would get whenever

I would look at the pictures and read the letters to the editors in my stash of porno magazines and fantasize about fucking beautiful women and having them suck my cock.

Whenever I got that feeling I would start stroking my cock and after a few strokes the feeling would quickly intensify and focus on my groin area and make my balls start to tingle and my cock to throb followed by the most exquisite firing of every nerve ending in my body as my cock would erupt with massive jets of cum. But this was the first time that I felt that feeling spread from my stomach to all over my body as I danced with my Mom and it was really making me excited inside to know that she was making me want to masturbate.

I decided that when the song that we were dancing to ended, that I would excuse myself saying that I had to go pee and would be right back, and then run to the bathroom to masturbate real quick before the feeling left me. But before

I knew what was happening the feeling suddenly greatly intensified and I could sense my cock starting to throb and then without warning I had a massive orgasm and my cock began shooting out a torrent of warm, sticky cum that flooded the front of my shorts and started running down my legs.

My cock kept pumping out more and more cum until the orgasmic feeling reached an exquisite peak greater and more pleasurable than I had ever felt before when I masturbated by jacking off my cock with my hand. It flooded every part of my body and I involuntarily let out a loud groan and exquisite sigh of sheer pleasure.

My mother's body tensed a bit and she exclaimed in a surprised voice, "What happened Danny?"

I knew what had happened for sure, but I didn't want my Mom to know that I knew all about orgasms and cumming and stuff like that. I would have been mortified and embarrassed if she knew that I was enjoying having an orgasm with her. She would surely find out that I knew a lot more about sex than she thought I did and would discover that I regularly enjoyed masturbating myself to pictures of naked women fucking and sucking, and I didn't want her to think that I was some kind of pervert.

All of those thoughts raced through my mind as she asked that simple question, "What happened Danny?". So in that split second, I decided to pretend that I didn't understand what had happened and maybe she would think that orgasms and cumming was a brand new experience for me and I tried to act surprised as I stammered,

"I'm sorry mom. I don't know exactly what happened, but I think I accidentally peed my pants. I'm so embarrassed."

Then mom pulled away and looked down at my pants and leg and her leg where some of my cum had rubbed off on it. She reached down and scooped up some of the cum off her leg and on to her finger, looked at it, tasted it with her tongue, and then smiled broadly and said, "Oh no sweetheart, you didn't pee in your pants. You creamed yourself!

I said, "What do you mean mom? What do you mean I creamed myself? How did I do that? I didn't do anything! It just happened by itself! What's cream anyway?"

Mom pulled me back close to her and gave me a quick kiss on the lips and then said, "Calm down Danny. It's ok sweetie.

Really, it's ok. But do you mean you really don't know what happened? Hasn't dad talked to you about girls yet and what happens between girls and boys?"

I said, "No ma'am, he hasn't. Dad never talks to me about anything."

Mom looked up and away muttering under her breath to herself,

"That SOB. That's just like the bastard, only thinking of himself again."

Then she looked back at me and held my face in her hands and kissed me again quickly on the lips and said,

"No matter darling. I think what just happened is that you just took your first step into manhood. I know you're confused right now but everything is wonderful.

You have started to become a man and I'll explain everything to you soon and help you through this confusing period. But first, let's get you up to the bathroom so we can get you cleaned up and then we will have a little talk about the birds and the bees. It's way past time for you to learn about these things so you don't accidentally get some girl in trouble, or worse have some hot little honey take advantage of you.

I was ecstatically relieved. I had pulled it off! Mom wouldn't find out about how much I loved to fantasize about fucking women and having them suck my dick while I beat my meat. All I had to do now was to let her explain all about sex to me, and that really excited me.

Mom took me up to the bathroom and stood me up in the bathtub and told me to drop my pants and shorts so she could wash me off. I started to resist at first and said, "MOM, I can do that! You're not supposed to see me naked!"

Mom chuckled at me and said, "Be quiet silly. I'm your mother.

Don't you think I haven't seen you naked plenty of times before?.

I used to change your diapers. Now drop those pants so I can clean you off."

And I said, "Oh, alright," and dropped my shorts and underwear.

Mom started running warm water into the tub and got a washcloth to start cleaning me up. When she looked over at my groin area to start, she got a good look at my cock and everything else. By then my cock was not rock hard anymore, but neither was it completely limp. It was sort of hanging down in an in-between state of semi-hardness and was about

6-1/2 inches long. (It was only about 7-1/2 inches long when hard at that time. Today it's a respectable 8-1/2 inches when hard.)

My cum was spread all over my stomach area, pubic hair, cock, balls, and down my thighs and legs. Mom said, "Well sport you sure did a number because you have cream spread all over yourself. You really shot a huge load, but from the size of you I guess I'm not surprised."

Then she giggled a little and said sort of to herself, "It won't be long before you will be beating the girls off with a stick when they get wind of the size of your cock. That is some impressive weapon baby, and you're still growing." Then she started to wash my stomach and clean out my navel since some of the cum had gotten in there. As she was washing me she began to talk to me.

"Honey, now what I think just happened when we were dancing is that you had your first real orgasm. Do you know what an orgasm is honey?" "No ma'am, I don't think so. I mean I'm not sure, unless it means spitting cum out of my cock into a cunt."

Mom said sternly, "Don't use those kinds of words Danny.

They're not nice. The correct word for your cock is penis, and the correct word for cum is sperm, and the correct word for cunt is vagina. And your penis does not "spit" out sperm when you are sexually exited. It ejaculates sperm.

Words like cock, cum, cunt, and others like them are vulgar words that young boys and men and sometimes girls and women use when they want to talk dirty and disrespectfully to try and impress people with how manly, or sophisticated, or worldly they think they are. But all they accomplish is to display how uncultured and common, and vulgar they really are.

I'm your mother Danny, and because I am also a woman I have a vagina. How would you like to hear people refer to me as a

'cunt' all the time?"

I said, "Oh mom, you know I wouldn't, and if anyone ever did

I would punch their lights out."

Mom smiled, "I know you would darling and I love you for it.

I'm just trying to make sure you understand the difference.

I know you are going to use these kinds of vulgar words among your young friends as you banter among yourselves to impress each other, and tell dirty jokes, and brag to each other about your conquests with the young ladies. And later when you start making love to girls and are having intercourse with them, you and they both will probably use them because vulgar or dirty talking often raises the level of excitement and pleasure when you're having intercourse with a female.

But you must never use them in public with people who you want to think well of you and respect you."

I acted very contrite and said, "I understand Mom and I'm sorry and I won't do it again, but Mom, you use the word cream instead of sperm. Why is that ok?"

She answered, "I know I do Danny and that's a good question.

I started using that word years ago because I was, and still am, very shy and embarrassed about talking about sex with anyone that I didn't know real well, and so I got in the habit of finding innocent words to use in place of the real words when I absolutely had to talk about sex matters with someone like my mother, or a doctor or someone like that.

Cream is not a vulgar word. It is a perfectly good word that is used to describe many ordinary things like face cream, cream from milk, whipped cream on cake and ice cream, and stuff like that. I have other innocent words that I sometimes use like you might sometimes hear me say "your thing" instead of your penis. But words like cum and cunt have only one meaning. They are intended to be a dirty, vulgar reference to something that is perfectly normal. So cum is just a vulgar substitute for sperm to describe the milky like fluid that is ejaculated from a penis during orgasm and cunt is a vulgar reference to a woman's vagina.