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Without a girlfriend, a 17-year-old male has to find a way to release his pent-up sexual energy. I pretty much was unstoppable. Any time I had some privacy, I was finding a way to bring myself off. I had a collection of pornographic magazines hidden in my suitcase, in the top shelf of my closet. We are not talking your average collection. I had spent many years, ever since eighth grade, purchasing skin mags and of course no man ever throws them away. Looking back now, I know my mother knew they were there. I also know that throughout high school she always knew what I was doing with them. In fact, I think that’s why perhaps those last days I was at home ended up being as special as they were. I remember the day it started. I actually came home from work early. Coincidentally, my mom had been running late and therefore, so was dinner with the family. “Did you eat yet, honey?” She asked as I approached her in front of the the the stove. I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and then. I knew she was awake andthat was confirmed as she drew my face even closer to her lovely breast.I opened my lips slightly and encased the thrusting nipple in acaressing kiss that no boy-girl child should ever have given "her"mother. She gasped as I slowly sucked in her tender, yet rapidlyhardening nipple and I felt her tremble in my arms as they slid aroundher body to pull her even closer to my urgently aroused "clitty" as Inow called my she-male body. I know that these are words of today, buthow else can I describe it. Cock, prick, words that are coarse, crude,common and base as far as I am concerned and not truly descriptive ofwhat I felt at all.For long, long minutes we cuddled and caressed in a mutual, incestuousfrenzy. My hands, sure and urgent, slid down to her taut, trim buttocksand pulled them in towards the aching, wanting centre of my own passion.As mother felt my throbbing body pressing into the very centre of herpassion she moaned deep into my mouth and slowly melted.
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