All of my friends had been inherited, and there was this gnawing dread that my popularity would wane without her. And that I wouldn’t do a damn thin... to stop it.Of course, I got more hand-me-downs with the course of her move. It brought me to tears several times (an easy enough thing to do), reminding me too much of the day we went through all of Mom’s things, deciding what to keep and what to throw away. I remember thinking identical thoughts about each object, from the old torn and stained. Some were really sexy and I immediately started to have a huge boner. A boner for MY OWN MOM. "Shame on you" I said to myself. But I couldn't helped. I was obsessed with her, and because I didn't have any girlfriend for a long time, I lost myself to that never-ending lust. I was doomed.I started to enjoy fantasying about my mom being fucked by other men. I almost wish that could happen in real life. I would often masturbate dreaming her dating guys, being fucked in cheap motels. Then every time. More

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