)Introduction.I was in my early teens when this TRUE STORY began, my mother was 35 and I was still at school. I was the only c***d and I had no sister...and no brother, growing up I thought that I was a normal teenage lad, I liked girls but strangely I also liked other lads my own age or older, I even liked some men also and I also liked older females.my young teen raging hormones were going into overdrive, they were going crazy and ever since my first ever wank I would several times a day sport. Vern asked, “Mike, you in a hurry?”Mike said, “No, I’ve nothing important to do.”Vern said, “If it is ok with James, I can start training you tonight. The dishes have yet to be done and I can show Mike how to operate the dishwasher.” James nodded his head in approval.“Come on in,” Vern said, “The dishwasher is right over here.” And led the way. He continued, “It’ll take us about an hour to do the dishes and scrub the pots and pans. Then we’ll have plenty of time to chat before bedtime. Remind. It didn’t do much to help the butterflies in my stomach and the moisture between my legs. The train journey was a frustration; trying to read the paper when all I wanted to do was to bring myself off again. Thank god it was short and soon I arrived. J was nowhere to be seen, but my phone bleeped. “There is a Starbucks ahead; take a seat by the window, the modesty board doesn’t work”. We always started like this; I got a coffee and sat in the window, displaying myself to the commuters until J. I wanted to reach over and cup my hand under her breasts, just to feel that weight of them. I didn’t. Joanne lived in a large bungalow in a rustic section of Coldwater Canyon - between Beverly Hills and the San Fernando Valley. Her house was an artist’s studio with easels, painting supplies, and partially finished canvases taking up most of the space. I sat down on an overstuffed sofa chair while she spent a few minutes tidying up. She told me that she had just turned the corner in terms of.