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No, she never did it openly, in my eyes, she was lucky only if the door to the parent’s bedroom remained closed not tightly.
That is, then it was just feminine, and this was its appeal, and not in the fact that it is my mother’s.
When my mother changed clothes, I also saw just female parts of the body, very interesting to me.

Coming out of school while no one was still at home, I took out panties, bras, pantyhose and combinations, looked at them as a matter of duty, laid them out on my parents’ bed and imagined that I was undressing one of two liked classmates.
The fantasies were quickly excited, the member swelled and lengthened, I began to stroke and squeeze it until the maximum size was reached and the head was richly covered with lubricant.
Then the light stimulation was replaced by masturbation more and more intense.
I finished in a handkerchief prepared in advance.
Very often my fantasies were fueled by a fashion magazine with models of varying degrees of nudity.
The sexier the model seemed to me, the more onanishing movements she was honored.
The maximum was ten stimulation, the modest were honored with two or three.
Very soon there was a desire to masturbate with the help of panties, but their mother’s belonging stopped me.
For a long time I was ashamed to wrap the member in the lingerie that my mother would put on in the evening, but excitement soon gained the upper hand.
Trying to be careful not to firmly remember the ironed cloth-hb and not to leave grease stains, wrapped them around the shaft of the penis and began to masturbate.

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When the denouement was close, I freed myself from cowards, so as not to get dirty with sperm, ran to the bathroom and finished there, well, or used a handkerchief.
After the excitement subsided, the remorse of conscience fell like a stream, putting the laundry back in the drawers, I swore to myself not to touch it anymore.
After about two weeks, it became clear that it was pointless to fight masturbation with the help of my mother’s underwear, and even though her conscience was shaking her head, she was silent.
Actually, there was a period of three weeks of total abstinence.
In the old explanatory dictionary, an excerpt was discovered that masturbation is the unnatural satisfaction of sexual desire.
I had previously scolded myself for this shameful occupation, but now the word “Unnatural” led to such horror that abstinence was extended by the term indicated above.
Fortunately, I couldn’t resist nature longer, and continued to exercise my boyfriend.
Pictures and fantasies are just shadows, they could not be compared with the look of a living female body.
And since there were only species with my mother in my memory, they very soon began to slip in their imagination during sex games alone with themselves.
At first, it scared me, I was aware of the incompatibility of sexual experiences and the image of the parents.
However, the exciting memories of mom, asleep in a loosely worn robe, crouched down and for a moment opened my eyes deeply above

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the knees, bent over the table, when her breasts without a bodice are visible in the neck, and most importantly moms who change clothes are getting bigger every day and they are more insistently bursting in erotic dreams.
The most unpleasant thing about it was that the memories aroused more than fantasies, and consequently supplanted them.
Increasingly, instead of fantasizing, I began to remember my mother’s legs, back, glittering whiteness of panties.
And of course, once began stroking with a member.
I have not yet confessed to myself that the member is now standing on my mother, assured myself that this is just an abstract image.
A few more times of agonizing running about from the truth passed before the terrible happened.
In one, I do not know happy or fatal day, I recognized that no one excites me so much like my own mother. Bbw lesbian cam.

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