Mother said, "I'll make a deal with you. We'll let the hair growif you will stop fighting at school."I was overjoyed. I would be happy to give up fighting... Didn'tlike to fight anyway so I told her she had a deal."Now remember", she said, "The first time the school calls mebecause of your bad behavior, off comes the hair".I was the happiest I had been since I started the first grade.I did my work at school and refused to allow the other boys tobother me. I ignored them. I didn't care what they said, I wasgetting my hair back. I could put up with anything now. Strangeas it may sound, the more I ignored them the less fun theyseemed to derive from calling me sissy. After awhile it all butstopped. Oh, they didn't invite me into their games but that wasokay. I didn't like football and baseball anyway. I wasdifferent from the other boys and I was learning to enjoy myuniqueness.At the beginning of summer vacation, just a few weeks before mythirteenth birthday, my mom hit me with the biggest. Like an artful master I gently probed deeper into her softness. Her thighs parted more and her juices flowed in profusion, wetting my entire hand to my wrist. Two fingers slid into her slit and approached her clit from a southerly direction. I traced the slippery path of her cuntal runway from the entrance to her vagina all the way to the clit as I imagined what it was going to be like to land my cock in that juicy port. When I heard a low guttural purr coming softly from her throat and felt the exquisiteness of her hair pressing into my neck, I gave myself over to my full intentions and showed her exactly what I could do with my fingers.Many times I had done this with my wife and with earlier girlfriends to ensure they were satisfied if I came too soon. I loved giving pleasure. My fingers worked deftly on her clit and I could feel every muscle in the firm frame that was pressed against me contract and convulse in micro spasms of uncontrollable gratification. She rolled her head and.
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