I was lying on my back looking upjust as a large pointed sliver of mirror came crashing down threatening todisembowel my perfectly shaped abs in an ac...idental act if seppuku.Instead of piercing my belly, the glass hit my dense skin and shatteredharmlessly into hundreds of small fragments littering the tile floor. Asthe neighbors pounded on the wall for me to be quiet, the phone rang forthe fourth time as I quickly picked clumsy self up off the grounddesperately trying to gain traction. The. They turned out to be love letters. As I readthem I became aware that they were from women,some of them I knew. They contained graphicdetails of romantic encounters between them and mymother. I had never suspected that my mother washaving sex with the women that spent the night withher. When I read some letters from Amy, a womanthat visited regularly, I studied every word shewrote carefully. Amy was not only my mother's friend she washer beautician. I found her to be a fascinatingwoman. Was this because he didn't want to talk? Because he couldn't get the words out? Or because he was—well, an angel? I keep stroking his cock over his pants. "No, I don't think it's 'grotty'," I say, going lower and lower until I'm facing the front of his zipper. I carefully lean my head down, open my mouth as I look up at him, and bite his juicy cock slightly through his clothe. I'm rewarded by a deep growl that comes from deep within him. "Oh, bloody..." he doesn't get the rest of the sentence. This had become a usual thing. While talking, she indirectly asked me out and I was flattered. I couldn’t believe that this was happening. Within few months of my college life, I had a girlfriend. I was so happy and we started hanging out together, go on long walks after college and watch movies and also go to the parks and hang around there.Things were going on as per normal and we used to hug and sometimes give a peck on the cheeks while there was no one around. Then this day came where I.