I brushed my erect penis against my mums leg
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I once accidentally brushed my erect penis against my mothers arse, now that's disturbing.
I would like to stress again though that it was purely accidental and I don't purposely try and lure the woman who gave birth to me into a position were I can get a free rub of my penis off her body while I am at full mast, that would require way to much effort, I just got lucky this time.
I must have only been about 15-17, something like that. Now I'll be the first to admit that a good wank ain't a wank at all unless it has sufficient material to climax to, I ain't daft but I do have my moments of practicality and after having gained my clickstick membership card at around about the age of 11 that gave me 4 years or so of "solid saturdays" and "slow palm Sundays"... week days were always difficult due to the fact I would like to play football in the street until 7pm, maybe 8 on the summer holidays and afterwards my mother would always insist on using the family PC upstairs until well past my bedtime of 11pm school nights, which made possible wanking opportunities nigh on impossible. "Why not just throw one over the balcony in bed" I hear you cry... well... to be honest I used to have to share my bedroom with my other two brothers who used to snore all night and... yes sometimes I would even hear the occasional murmur of quilted quibble followed by heavy grunting as my brother's took your advice and did a midnight service... now as hard as it may be to believe but for a straight boy only interested in the slightly butch Katy Hill from Blue Peter, the sound of my brothers in mid mastur' was abit of a mood killer.
Thing is though, my house only ever had a downstairs toilet so whenever I got the chance to tango with myself I would always sit in the chair in front of the PC and finish myself off inside a tissue... if said tissue wasn't available then I would use one of my brothers empty CD/cassette boxes or video case (You know the one that looked like a massive book from the side). I can't tell you how much sticky jiz I must have unloaded onto the sleeve notes of my brothers Happy Mondays CD, I must have cummed onto Shawn Riders ugly mug more times than Bez after a heavy drinking session. Luckily for me my brother was an absolute twat who only bought CD's because he managed to get them cheap off my uncle Tony... I don't think he really cared much for music so I doubt he ever even listened to them.
Unfortunately for me though, finding time to dispose of my offal after dispatch was always hard as the kitchen and the bathroom were past our living room which was situated at the bottom of the stairs so I had to be very careful as to when I made my daring dash across the hallway past my living room door were my dad would usually be watching episodes of Lovejoy and past my Nan who would tend to sit and smoke her cigarettes on a chair in the kitchen and into the Bathroom where I could flush the tissue down the shitter or wash the soiled piece of “Monday’s material” in the sink. Over time this became more and more bothersome as I would often be half way down the stairs when my mum would rush out the living room door and I'd have to clatter back up before she spotted her darling youngest with handfuls of sticky Kleenex grasped in his mittens. So in the end I decided to sacrifice one of the few pleasures I got while living at home and had to resort to rubbing away like a criminal at the PC, eyes firmly fixed on the lewd, crewed and rather kinky choice of Web supplied scatological material, until I was fit to burst and then run downstairs with my winky tucked away and into the toilet downstairs where I would then have to lower myself to using that days copy of the sun to ejaculate into the pan and one simple flush to deal with the deed.
It was probably one of the hardest decisions I had to make, it's up their with when I had to decide whether I should put down my old dog "Skipper" when he got abit manky in his old age. But just like Skipper it had to be done, not only for my benefit but for the greater good. I couldn't keep sloshing semen everywhere about the family entertainment room until I left home leaving my poor mum with lot's of hidden cummy tissues and smeared CD cases to find tucked away in the corners in later life.
But.... in the end I had to falter, by the laws of averages you have to expect to be caught once or twice by your family in the act of masturbation, unfortunately for me I may have been rather reckless in my younger days and was probably caught more times in a year than most people would in a lifetime, I except that fact and know that I have no one else but myself to blame.
On this one occasion though it was the fact that I was trying to be more cautious that I managed to find myself skin on skin with my mummy with only the material of my shorts and her dress in-between. It must have been on a Saturday as most Sundays my mother usually spent her evenings around one of her friends house getting abit tipsy most times and coming home rather merry and full of vim. On this particular Saturday I had just reached the pinnacle moment of my after tea toss and was all prepared for my military like dash downstairs into the bathroom, luckily my dad used to like reading the paper on the bog so I had little worry about the vital piece of material being sat there on the toilet stool like an early birthday present when I arrived at the W.C door. So I did the usually scouting mission to see if the coast was clear, which usually involved me sticking my head around the banister. Then I darted two... maybe three steps at a time down the stairs like Nijinsky stopping as I neared the entrance to my living room, after a split second glance I went to pass the door... and that's when it happened... my mother completely oblivious rushed out the room and went to squeeze past me quick on her way to the kitchen... in the process firmly wiping her buttocks against my rock hard todger, there was no way to hide it. She just paused and turned around with a look of utter disgust and horror on her face, confused and dumfounded over what had just occurred, of course I just stood there frozen like the Arsenal backline with the outline of my cock clearly visible, poking against my night shorts. She then just turned and went in the kitchen, most people would have then tried to reduce the damage done by trying to explain to their mother or come up with an excuse... or anything. I on the other hand just turned foot and ran all the way back up the stairs and waited in my bedroom the whole night.
Never did I once try and explain the situation over the years and so far have just left it as one of the things on my ever growing list of situations I would have rather not found myself in. I'm even abit worried that she might think I had intended to rake my gerbil across her backside, I truly hope she doesn’t though as nowadays she's a few botox short of a babe and I don't want her thinking I might treat her to it again some day.
But how about sparing a thought for poor old me, I had to reach the tip of a climax and then let it boil for a whole night... how do you think that feels, it's fucking agony I tell ya.