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Getting physical with my teacher in college, and then with my distant relative, who lived in the same city I studied in, made me feel like a champion. Mature women were my trophy.Despite all these, and opportunities for more sex, I continued to lust for my mother. My thoughts were always filled with her, and in my mind, she was always naked. Every scenario I imagined my mother in, she would be naked. Whether it was buying grocery at the supermarket, driving her car, cooking in the kitchen, or serving me food, my mother was naked in every thought of mine. I would talk to my mother every night, and most times I would be masturbating, talking to her on the phone. I would be wearing nothing when I call her, and just her voice would be enough to make my dick rock hard. I would stroke my dick as I talk to her, and cum while she was still on the line. I used to desperately wish that she noticed the change in my breath.I really wished she understood I was masturbating talking to her. I would. She wanted to feel those lips against hers. It was late at night, or early in the morning depending on your mindset, and a pipe had burst. Water, water, water. He came to help, the royal blue sweatshirt that he wore had his name emblazed on the back, Kevin. He was finally finished, the clock shined a bright 4:06. Samantha yawned, usually in bed hours earlier. She hopped up from her place on the couch, asking if he wanted anything for the ride home. She found herself triple checking the empty ring finger. He politely denied her offers of refreshing beverages. She didnt blame him though, he told her earlier that he had been up since 5:30 the previous morning. Samantha couldnt remember the last time she kept hours like that. She paid him for services rendered and he left. Samantha watched the van pull away, and let her dreams of waking up next to those lips pull away with it. Two nights later the phone rang, a strange number flashed on the caller id. When Samantha picked up the phone.
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