Son has the bigger dick sex stories

Added: Ji Weisman - Date: 17.09.2021 17:48 - Views: 25709 - Clicks: 2705

My name is Cathy. I have a 21 year old son named Brian. Tennis and running has kept me in pretty good shape. There are only two obvious differences between Brian and his dad. Even as a young boy in high school, Brian was very well built; very defined. He played on the football team all four years in high school and now is a running back on his college football team. His dad on the other hand was rather skinny and non-athletic. The other difference was less obvious to everyone but my sister and me. My late husband, Jimmy, was a very good lover. We enjoyed a full and exciting sex life for a long time before a car accident took him from us.

It never gave me reason to complain. He always made me laugh. I told him because they were the truth. I had even invited one of my girlfriends into our bed when we were first married. When he expressed interest in anal sex, I was reluctant but certainly willing to give it a try.

I have to say, I was rather thankful for the Washburn Curse when we explored that avenue. The fact was; I loved Jimmy and I loved his penis as well. I bathed Brian until he was almost seven-years-old, when he informed me he thought he was too old to be washed by his Mommy. For the next few weeks, I inspected my son head to toe after he was finished bathing. Satisfied with the job he was doing without my help, I let him wash himself from then on. He was standing with one foot up on the tub and he was drying himself after a shower. Although it all happened pretty fast, my eyes went right to the thing hanging between his legs.

Literally, I mean it. It was hanging!

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As a matter of fact, it was the thickness that had caught my attention in the first place. I was a bit taken back. I must have been standing there with my mouth hanging open. I promptly apologized and shut the bathroom door. I stood outside the door with my hand still on the doorknob, shaking my head slowly in disbelief. In my defense, in the beginning, I just wanted to know if my eyes were playing tricks on me. I needed to know if what I saw was real or was it just something my imagination was bending out of proportion, so-to-speak.

I Son has the bigger dick sex stories to wonder if maybe it was just the light or maybe the way he was standing. I found myself thinking about it a lot in the days and nights after that. I even found myself sneaking fleeting glances at the front of his shorts and his bathing suit from time to time to see if maybe I could see an outline or a reference to its size, but everything he wore was baggy. Perhaps it was more comfortable for him that way.

I felt myself blush each time I caught myself looking; embarrassed that I would do such a thing, afraid someone might notice my interest. I found myself ashamed at times that I was looking at my own son in such a way. I told myself that I was just trying to confirm what it was I thought I saw. But, the more I tried to dismiss it, the more I dwelled on it and the more I needed to know. I know how all this sounds.

I leaned over to wake him and tell him to go on up to bed. I was just about to tap him on the shoulder when my eyes drifted down to his boxers. I froze. It was about the size of a golf ball. My stomach flip-flopped. I covered my mouth with my fingers to muffle a gasp. I glanced up to make sure he was asleep. This was nothing like barging in on someone in the bathroom.

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THIS would be hard to explain. I took a deep breath to steady myself and d my investigation. I was pretty shocked at my reaction. I felt a little light headed as I realized this might finally be my chance to actually see it, All of it, and put this whole crazy, stupid thing to rest. If not, it had to be the Jello shooters. Regardless… I had to keep myself from giggling like a school-girl. I bent over a little more and cocked my head to see if I could get a better look inside the slit of his underwear. It was no use; his boxers hid all but the tip. If I was going to see any more of it… …I was going to have to pull his fly open more.

I looked to make sure he was asleep. The closer my finger got, the more nervous I became. One more quick glance up before I carefully hooked my long fingernail in the slit of his boxers and gently, slowly, pulled open the small slit.

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Again, I had to stifle the urge to giggle. I moved my head a little to one side to allow the light from the table lamp to better light the area. I noticed that my hand was shaking quite a bit. I glanced up at Brian one more time. Still sleeping. I could see inside his boxers a little better now. There it was; most of it anyway. His dick was pretty big and very, very thick… …fat actually. Evidently I spoke kinda loud because suddenly Brian grunted and shifted his weight. As he turned, I pulled my hand back like the damn thing was gunna bite me.

I was immediately aware of the contact. I quickly stood up, straight, rigid actually, and quickly stepped back from the couch with my hands to my mouth. My first thought should have been to run out of the living room and up to my room in case he woke up. Probably not. I stood frozen, staring, for what seemed like a long time.

I could see almost all of it. There was no question. There was no need for anymore confirmation. It lay over to one side, maybe a little more than 6 inches and as fat around as a good sized banana…a very good sized banana. For a split second, I started to think about how I could accomplish such a feat. I shook my head trying to shake the thought away and quickly took another step back to gather my wits.

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I wondered what I might be willing to do to make this happen. It was somewhat sobering. I was ashamed of myself for the way I felt. After all, suppose he was to wake up and find that his hard penis was sticking out of his shorts and that his mother was hovering over him. I quickly and quietly left the living room and ran upstairs to my bedroom. I lay in bed until well after midnight wrestling with my conscience, trying to get a handle on everything. Images of my father flashed in my mind.

The smell of his cologne and bourbon filled my nostrils. Memories of inappropriate moments made me shiver but oddly enough, made me warm between my legs. I tried to convince myself that maybe these thoughts and actions were a product of loneliness and that I was still missing Jimmy, but deep down, the more I thought about it, the more I knew there was more to it. At first, I was troubled and embarrassed by the thoughts and images that seemed to work their way into my head.

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They seemed to bombard me with more and more frequency. I reminded myself that such things were forbidden, morally wrong but I also knew for a fact that these kinds of things happened all the time in all walks of life. I found that late at night when I was alone in my bed, that somewhere along the line these forbidden thoughts and images turned into welcomed dreams and yearnings, even fantasies.

At first I shamefully tried to suppress the urge but found it useless most times. I told myself that nothing would ever come of such thoughts and desires and wondered if my father had told himself the same thing. Before I knew it, these feelings led to masturbation and to my surprise, some very intense orgasms.

I was obsessed. Except for the occasional glance or the fleeting feeling, I pretty much kept my dark fantasies to myself. I quietly turned the knob and took a step in as quietly as I could, hoping not to wake him. To my disbelief, Brian was stretched out on his bed with his pajama bottoms pushed down past his knees.

I froze there, mid-step. I stood there by the door in my running shorts and sports bra, an arm full of dirty clothes and my hand still on the doorknob and watched my son jerking himself off. He was so into what he was doing that he never even noticed me standing there. I was unable to move or say anything as I watched him masturbating. There was no doubt about what I was seeing this time.

He was hard now, really hard. Once again what stood out was the thickness of it. He stroked it with one hand and it was easy to see that at least three inches of meat stuck out past the top of his hand and at least as much beneath it. I just stood there and watched as his hand moved up and down, up and down. I felt like I was in a dream.

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And outside of any magazines or the Inter-Net, I had never seen a dick that big, that fat on any man… …let alone a year-old boy. I should have quietly shut the door and left. I should have been thinking about how embarrassed both of us would be if he were to catch me watching, how awkward it would be, but instead; the fact that I was going to actually watch my son cum seemed to govern my thought process.

Oddly enough, all I could think of was how much cum would come out of such a fat dick. Then he moaned something that I would have never expected. It simply floored me. His hand had stopped pumping but it remained wrapped around his dick. When our eyes met, he looked as shocked as I was. I just stared at him, dumbfounded, speechless.

Son has the bigger dick sex stories

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