A new tidal wave of guilt washed over Curt once more. Any blood in his penis, any sexual arousal he had from reading of his mother’s sexcapades, di...d down. He wasn’t horny anymore. He didn’t want to read anymore. He put the diary back and went to bed, lying wide awake for hours.*Curt continued watching his mother, not have sex, but simply watching her. He watched her cook dinner for him, do his laundry, all while hating himself. She seemed different too, sad almost. He wondered what she. " Wilma said. Like a little boy(I think he must have ten to fifteen years older than her) Carl started to plead with her, almost begging. "Well okay, stop begging, I guess it won't hurt nothing and if it will make you stop pestering me about it." Wilma said as Carl unzipped the back of her dress with glee in his eyes. Wilma dropped her dress and stood right in front of me with just her panties on. Then she dropped those. She did not look half bad for her age. Her tits were a little small but. More

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