Now you will be wondering how come that a boy meet his Mommy at twenty-two, well, the matter is that
Now you will be wondering how come that a boy meet his Mommy at twenty-two, well, the matter is that she is not my real mother. The first time I saw her she was giving a lecture as an invited professor at my university. I got stunned. Along to look beautiful she emanated an air of authority that gave my spine shivers. You have to understand that I always had a special interest for mature ladies. Since my early teens I was often intrigued by the sexiest between the moms of my friends, and when I indulged in the lonely sexual activity the boys that age are so keen to perform, I pictured one or the other of that mothers not only in some state of undress or while they took me into their bed for lovemaking, but also while they scolded me severely or even gave me some childish punishment. Given this background, it is easy to see how the lady that was giving that lecture appeared to me like a goddess. I absolutely had to know her, so when the lesson ended I managed to approach her and with an excuse I got the phone number of her office. It took me three or four phone calls with her secretary before being able to have an appointment with her because of a blatant lie. To make a long story short when we met my lie was discovered and blushingly I had to admit the reason for me to have lied in order to see her. Instead of throwing me out of her office Mommy proved herself intrigued by that young, fit and handsome man that declared shamelessly her admiration for her. She invited me to her home for dinner warning me that she wouldn’t stand anymore lies and that I deserved a ‘good lesson’ on how to behave honestly. That night before dinner I was scolded meaningfully to have misrepresented myself then punished severely for it, first with Mommy’s hard hand then with her wooden paddle. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09SX5QTVL -- source link