Yet, I still had to learn how to masturbate.For the next several months I found myself helping mom with the laundry every weekend. She was the only fe...ale in the house, so I had never smelled any other woman's panties. Although, every time I would go visit my cousin's who were girls I would go to the bathroom and look for theirs or their mom's, (my aunt's) panties to sniff. But there was always the fear of getting caught that kept me from doing anything other than sniffing.Until, the summer. That sound kept echoing in my head but, I didn't know why. Too young to figure. But then, the crossing of legs and the dangle of the High Kitten Heeled Pump gave way to that Sheer Foot and Reinforced Heel of the Stocking. I was mesmerized. I had to feel them. I had to touch them. But how? Go into my moms stocking drawer? Okay, now what? Try them on? Okay, now what? By the time they got pulled up near my crotch, I had a raging hard on now turning colors I had never seen. I had no idea what was. She pushed it in slowly, but deeply, and when the tip hit my prostate, I exploded into Starr, whose shattering climax followed immediately. The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was Della going through her own climax behind us.I awoke some time later to find both of them still out cold. Starr was laying on her stomach next to me, and Della was laying on her back on the other side. As I looked at their bodies and thought about what had just happened, I started getting hard again. I. "Hey!" Mark's rescuer turned out to be a rangy, rawboned woman, her cheerful face surrounded by a strawberry-blonde friz. She grinned and waved at him. "This runaway part of your herd, Cowboy?"He couldn't help returning the grin. "It surely is, ma'am. Thank you for rounding it up." Sure thing." She tromped up the drive, legs swinging in slow, easy strides beneath the frayed edges of her cutoff jeans. "I was coming this way anyhow." She held out a hand, the arm liberally spattered with freckles..
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