Mom's work

I am Marat, born in 1958. My mother Sonya was born in 1939, in a village, but lived in the city where my parents moved on her categorical insistence when I was 2 years old.

Mother is a 23-year-old red-haired Jew. She has a higher education as a food industry technologist. For a long time, until her retirement, she worked as the head of the refrigeration department at a large food processing plant.

In 1965, I got a full sister from my own father (surprisingly) YULYA. Dad was born in 1933, a cross from birth and by the destiny of his life path.

City life in him killed the peasant Razin.

He would have become one, but on the condition of his life

on the land of his ancestors — the crosses, which, due to my mother's insistence, did not happen, which until the end of their life together served as an unconscious apple of his mental discord.

My mother realized herself in the conditions of city life until the collapse of the USSR, my father did not — not before the collapse, not after — no.

Dad was a driver of a heavy KRAZ truck, a worker of the Soviet type — he worked, drank, and worked again.

He might have been an alcoholic, lived longer.

I note that many Soviet guys-men had a bright character trait — pathological jealousy reaching to assault, which did not bypass my dad either.

Often the jealousy of men was groundless (although against the background of alcohol, this feeling of ownership strengthened their erection for their wife).

In our case, thank God of the Jewish People, it was causal.

I grew up as a mama's boy, unfortunately not of Jewish upbringing (Jewish boys grew up with a violin, I grew up with a hoe, which grew with me from about the age of seven).

Mother's supervision was all-consuming and omnipresent.

Until I was 6, I went with her to the women's section of the public bathhouse.

Minute delays or absences without permission became a reason for spiritual punishment like "I was dying of fear for you."

Although we lived in the city, the district where our house was located was little different from the center of a prosperous village, and the people were all from the criminal world.

The street beckoned me, my mother wouldn't let me, she protected me. I was forced to grow up as a bookworm and a dreamer. I read a terrible amount (for example — the first book. "The Count of Monte Cristo" read overnight under the blanket at the age of 7).

In those days, parents worked a lot, from whistle to whistle, the real whistle could be heard from 5 km away. Until I was 18, I grew up strictly — home school. During holidays, on weekends, in summer, autumn, winter, and spring, collective farm work in the village with grandmothers and grandfathers (a breath of relative freedom).

In the village, the main entertainment is the RIVER-BEND!!!. In winter, ice, after the ice melts, swimming on the icy slush!!

At the river, as is known, everyone is relatively undressed, including girls and vacationing women mainly from the city. In those days, city dwellers already swam relatively boldly in semi-open swimsuits, unlike rural ones, who came to the Bend in peignoirs, brought as trophies from the war.

At the age of 18, I accidentally saw a naked strange adult woman for the first time, who was changing after swimming and……… oooooooh I got an erection during the day. What greatly surprised me – shamed me, but it was pleasant!

At night she appeared to me in a dream (how she was changing) and from my standing dick for the first time under such sweet SWEET!!! sensations, semen came out (I had heard about semen — malofye from village boys who helped cover mares with stallions).

From that time on, the female sex became my pleasant curse (torment). Everything connected with the secret of the female body and the continuation of the human race became for me a subject of study and analysis.

I heard about masturbation at the age of 18 from the same boys, only in the context that — those who jerk off start growing hair on their palms, so for the first time I satisfied myself only at 15 (I couldn't stand it anymore).

To my surprise!!!! hair did not start growing on my hands, this removed the last restrictions and gave impetus to the growing study of the process of hand-blowing and obtaining pleasure.

It was immediately noted that the quality of pleasure depended on fantasies. The first porn cards examined in detail made a breakthrough in quantitative and figurative terms, the number of self-pleasures per day reached up to 3 – 5 times.

To this period (8th – 9th grade) belongs my first experience of peeping at my mother, which was very easy to do, we had our own bathhouse.

Mother washed with my little sister, there was little sexuality, but there were a lot of movements of the naked body — bending, spreading legs, washing breasts.

Mother was 34 years old, she herself was red-haired, but the hair on her pubis was pitch black.

There was sexual arousal, but not strong. I well remembered our joint visits to the women's section of the public bathhouse.

At the moment of peeping, I did not masturbate, but later, completing what I saw in fantasies, I received a qualitatively different feeling during ejaculation, it had a very prolonged and stronger than usual character.

I began to want my mother as a woman for sexual intercourse at the age of 18. (see exposition number one).

I learned the word incest while studying in the 3rd year of medical school.

The attraction as a sexual partner appeared when I first indirectly learned — saw my mother with another man.

Dad was fishing, my sister and I were sleeping in the house.

Mother, leaving for a friend's place, said she would come back late.

The toilet was in the yard, at one in the morning I went there and everything would have been fine, but the light, lit in the steam room of the unheated bathhouse due to the loosely closed door, was visible from the street.

Without thinking about what it meant, I looked into the anteroom and shouted:

— Who's there!!?

An incomprehensible noise, the light went out and my mother came out into the anteroom. The sweater on her was not buttoned up all the way, and the skirt was put on inside out.

Mother asked in a categorically calm voice:

— What happened Marat, why aren't you sleeping?,

— Mom, what are you doing here?.

To which she answered in an even stricter voice with an intonation of impatience:

— I drank at Aunt Ida's, I felt bad and decided to lie down in the bathhouse!! And that's all, go to sleep!!! I'll come later. Go!

I moved to the house. Until that moment in my life, I obeyed and believed my mother without any internal dialogues (unconditionally).

But entering the veranda of the house, I stopped because the incorrectness in my mother's clothes nailed me to the floor. For the first time in my short conscious life, I thought;

"Mom is deceiving me!".

The light was turned off, I was not visible through the veranda glass.

About fifteen minutes later, my mother came out of the bathhouse, with a man. Large, tall, and by his quiet speech, I understood that he was a Caucasian. They kissed, and he left. I quickly entered the house.

Mother came about 15 minutes later and went to bed.

The rest of the night I analyzed what I saw.

My head was spinning badly and I felt sick from a terrible guess

— "Mom was with another man!!"

I, as never before, was very strongly aroused by jealousy and immediately there was a sexual desire to know EVERYTHING..

Then already consciously I looked for an opportunity to see and learn EVERYTHING about my mother's secret or my mother's sexual act, at least with my father………. but alas ……….

As usual, the case was accidental.

After the 10th grade, before entering the institute, my mother took me to her work to earn some extra money, moving small loads, more precisely, transporting them on an electric cart.

The team in the refrigeration department was mostly male, and there were many men from the Caucasus.

About four days later, on Friday before the weekend, she told me:

— Don't come after lunch, weed the potatoes.

But the potatoes were already weeded.

"She's sending me away from work on Friday for a reason!"

It was very scary, but I also terribly wanted to know and possibly see about THIS. I was shaking while washing in the shower, the erection was terrible, but I didn't feel like masturbating at that moment. There was a new qualitative sexual arousal. Horror!

Thinking poorly about what would happen later, I thought if THIS happens, then WHERE?

As a boss, she had her own office — a small room. A small tidy room with an adjoining room — a storage room, where there was an archive of various papers. But there, it was unclear why, there was a small window, with plywood instead of glass and with a vent, where there was glass.

This vent decided the outcome of my analytical research.

"If something happens and something can be learned, then there is no other place for me."

Coming out of the shower without seeing my mother in the office, I told the storekeeper to tell her:

— I went home.

I myself, with terrible excitement in my groin, opened the door of the storage room and climbed in there.

I prepared a peeping point through the crack of the vent. From where, with a change in the position of the head, the entire office was visible, in which there were only three chairs and an old large table. On the table, an arithmometer and many papers.

I waited for more than an hour, shivered all over, at four o'clock the whistle and that's the end of the working day.

Mother either changes clothes and goes home or …………?!!!

My conclusions were 200% correct, they came — mother and a Caucasian.

The Caucasian was not the one I heard and saw at the bathhouse. That one was young. This one was about 50, not tall, with a mustache, balding and with a belly. The Georgian, unlike the current ones, was kind, not aggressive, not arrogant, and affectionate.

What I saw then (like a film strip and now in my head)

Here is the storyboard.

1. They drank wine.

2. After about 10 minutes of conversation (mumbling could be heard), they began to kiss.

3. They kissed on the lips for about five minutes, after which he took off my mother's sweater and bra.

4. He kissed her breasts for a long time. (Mother's eyes became misty, so that I was on the verge of fainting from dizziness).

5. He helped my mother take off her skirt and panties and undressed himself completely naked.

6. What I saw in his groin struck me! His erect penis was large, very large in size (even seeing current porn I can say this) with a thickening in the center of the shaft and a head in the shape of a mushroom cap.

7. In the times of the USSR, sex certainly existed. But I didn't see blowjob and cunnilingus then.

Therefore, being naked (my mother's pubis was very black and curly-haired, he was not very hairy and even muscular) for some more time he kissed my mother on the lips and breasts, while her nipples enlarged, and her breasts became higher.

Then he turned her back to him, she bent over herself, leaned on the table and spread her legs wide.

8. He entered her gently, but immediately to the full length (at that moment I heard my mother's moan)

His hands rhythmically pulled her towards him by the lower back, and he still managed to stroke her large elastic buttocks, periodically reaching them to the swaying breasts with well-defined nipples.

9. On his face, there is no aggression, no smirk, there is happiness and a piece of love.

10. The rhythm of their movements was not frequent and not sharp, but deep and each time to the stop.

The part of my mother's face that I saw was relaxed and peaceful, even blissful.

11. They moved like that for about ten minutes. Then his hands completely shifted to my mother's hips, he strongly pulled her to himself and my mother groaned, moaned, throwing her head back and also strongly moved her butt towards him.

12. His movements became more powerful and long, and finally, he strongly pressed against my mother and moaned with a long guttural mountain sound.

13. My mother, with her hands on his buttocks, pulled him to herself, herself lay on the table with her breasts.

14. With light thrusts of his pelvis, they stood like that for about five minutes.

15. He pulled out his penis, already not of such large sizes, and I saw the expanded dark entrance to my mother's pussy, from which semen was flowing.

16. My mother straightened up, kissed him on the lips, and I saw how streams of whitish liquid ran down the inner surfaces of her thighs.

A lot, very much.

17. He sat down on a chair and smoked.

18. She went behind his back, took a handkerchief out of her bag, and spreading her legs began to wipe her crotch and thighs.

19. My mother dressed behind his back. he did not look back and said something cheerful and kind to her, to which she smiled beautifully, sometimes leaning on his shoulder.

20. When she dressed, he stood up and, covering his penis with his hand, dressed.

21. Together they left the office, spending about thirty minutes on THIS.

THE END

End of the working day — from the locker rooms and showers, people went home for the weekend

Together with them walked cheerful and smiling my mother and Rezo, that was his name (I learned the name many years later. I never saw him again, he was on a business trip then. As an expedition leader, he accompanied wagons with products).

And here are my feelings emotions there, in the storage room

1. Fear and resentment!.

2. Terrible anger at my mother for dad (when they kissed on the lips).

3. Unprecedented erection! When he undressed and started kissing her breasts.

4. Amazement! At the sight of his penis accompanied by the thought; "That such a thing cannot be" I was in a pre-f