By: Dr. Dill Fober Vangore
My Story Starts
My name is David, and I want to share with you a story that happened to me many years ago. I'm not a writer, just telling it as best I remember, so don't judge my writing skills too harshly.
I have changed the names to protect the identity of all participants who were 18 years of age or older at the time; I have tried not to vary from the actual events. My wife says I'm always leaving out too many of the details of my story, but it would then be a novel if I told all the details, and I have become aware that fiction is a lot closer to the truth from what a lot of you have written about your fantasies.
Thanks to 'Alwaystaboo,' for helping me find my mistakes and reviewing this story for me.
So here goes as best I can remember...
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Most of you have heard that song called Patches by Clarence Carter from the '70s. I use to hear it a lot when I was younger and always felt so much of it applied to me in my youth.
A lot of the words of the song rang true; except my mother helped me become a man one day as the song never mentions. Then later in my life, some of my past situations became a part of my life with my current wife.
Let me explain; like in the song, my father died when I was young. My Dad died from pancreatic cancer. He was much older than my mother when they married, she was a naΓ―ve young virgin, and he had just resigned from the Navy after 15 years.
She was a girl from a small town out west and married her when she was 18, just out of High School. She was a lot like the actress Sandra Dee, both in looks and in her tiny figure. I think that's why my dad married her; she was a beach beauty, with blonde hair, button nose, and green eyes. If you want to know what my mom looked like, look up a picture of Sandra Dee from the 1960s.
Growing up, we had a small farm in the Midwest, and on his death bed my father asked me to step up and become the man of the house and take care of my mom and my siblings; I was in High School but did as he asked out of love and respect for him.
With what little my father had in life insurance, it managed to pay off the farm, and my mom received a small income from the government each month. That left my mom having to go clerk at a law office to help support us, with all the farm chores falling upon my shoulders. I had a younger brother and sister, so they couldn't be expected to help much. I wanted to drop out of High School, but my mom said that was not an option, so I struggled between school and my farm chores.
I had to go out early in the morning and feed the livestock, milk the cow, muck the stalls, irrigate the garden and when I got home from school I was back out doing the same chores till dark. Then school work till bedtime. Early to bed, early to rise was my life all through high school.
I had no social life, and there were a lot of cute girls in my school, but I didn't have time for school dances or dating and I was a bit of an introvert when it came to girls. When I turned 18 my Senior year of High School, it was the time in my life when my hormones kicked in, and I was learning through other guys at school about sex, and which girls put out, and all the fun school stuff that I just didn't have time for as a teenager. It was also a time that I began noticing girls, and it seemed I was always aroused from just thinking about them. I wanted to go out on dates, but my responsibilities to my family came first, and girls just didn't fit into my life at that time, they actually scared me. The promise I had made to my father on his death bed to take care of my mom and my siblings squashed any ideas of a social life, or just having fun; I had made a promise and was I planning on keeping it.
Since I didn't have time to date or find out about girls my age, I began to notice the only other woman in my life; my mother. I'd gotten glimpses of her breasts in the shower, and noticed her slim, petite figure for a woman in her late-30's. But what guy doesn't notice their mother at that age? That's when you start peeking on them in the tub or when they're changing their clothes; I was no different than most guys at the time. I started sneaking my mom's panties out of the clothes hamper to smell them; mostly out of curiosity, till that womanly scent triggered my hormones even more. That caused me to fantasize about my mom, and I begin masturbating with them; believe me, I was no exception to guys my age. It helped take that edge off my sexual frustration as a young man, and it temporally fixed my need to date.
At 18 I was bigger than most guys my age, 6'3" tall, and 170 Lbs. of lean muscle, Blue eyes, Sandy Blonde hair. I look about the same today only 40+ lbs., with gray creeping in. I think my build was from working on the farm every day, and girls were always flirting with me, but I was too dumb to understand that. I usually thought they were just being nice. I noticed from my gym classes that I was also slightly bigger than guys my age below the belt, and I was proud of that.