I had never even masturbated until my first week at college. I excused myself from looking at her chest (everyone else was watching television, so no one noticed) and went in the bathroom.Not only was I through with my business extremely fast, but it was even fast for what I normally do in there.It wasn't that I was a late bloomer as far as puberty goes, because I was physically post-pubescent before I graduated from high school.It's just that the lack of pretty girls in this town and not looking at my dad's Playboys like most guys my age dulled my mental maturity.
I told her that with Bob's endowment being the size it was, the vibrator was probably an improvement.It rather felt good that I didn't have to check in with her when I found my first serious girlfriend (both her and my mother are named Linda), but I kind of wished she was there when we broke up a few days before I was to go back home.Of course, in order to make it seem like I wasn't a mama's boy, I never called her myself.Whatever got in between my dad and his Harley, or him and his football on autumn weekends, was due for a serious ass whipping. There were two tests left: how he treated me and how romantic he was. He said, "This calls for a celebration," so we experienced a dinner at this backwards town's nicest restaurant on him. Everyone in my family calls her Lindy, so even though she hates it, she's grown accustomed to it. Apparently, when either of my parents have sex, they emit some kind of hormone that makes me thirsty.Now, it's not like I was paying attention to their tryst, but I was really, really thirsty.