Until now, I had no any intention of writing about my mother's passing. The last thing I wanted was to turn her death into some sort of erotic tale and so I've pretty much kept quiet about it until now. Then Valentine's Day arrived and I realized just how much I miss her. This entry is meant as a tribute to most wonderful important woman in the world - my mom.
"Shush or he'll hear you," I heard my sister voice through the thin wall dividing our bedrooms. As you can imagine I was all ears and moved closer to the wall to hear better. "I don't care if he does hear," said Wendy that's my sister's friend. She was here for a sleep over. "Well I think he's cute," she said but in a whisper so I couldn't be sure I heard her right.
Siddu was an A1 pervert. However, never in his wildest dream did he expect him to be a product of his mother. When he caught his mother masturbating to hot pop songs, it was the opening he needed to slip into her panties. What follows is a slow patient effort by Siddu to turn his mother from an innocent naive housewife to a slave of porn and all things sex.
I've never even been in a recreational vehicle (RV) before so imagine being crammed inside one with my adulterous school administrator and his family so they could save money on a hotel. Thank goodness I had time run around the park on my own one day - stopping now and then for some fun.
What would you do if you were a hardcore, smartass writer, and Religious nazis whined, and bitched, pissed and moaned about your stories?
If you're like me, you'd write one just for them. A giant "fuck you, kiss my ass special". That's all the "dicklamer" I can stand, you've beeen warned.