"What pants does he have to go with them?," he wondered out loud, to no one in particular, "My jeans ... but they're dirty. What other shirts do I hav...e? Clean shirts. There's the crazy 'puzzle shirt', but that's a bit much for a first dinner. Oh what the hell." He grabbed it, smelled it – it was clean – and then grabbed the black pants hanging nearby – also clean. He went to his dresser, opened up the middle drawer, and grabbed the first clean pair of underwear and put it on. He put his pants. The confused part I mentioned not only had to do with my relationship (or lack of) with Jennifer, but also mom. Since dad left, then her best friend and her daughter, mom had started doing alot of church work again. Oh, she was home in the evenings, but even when she was there she just seemed so distant, and tired. She was always pulling away from me. I didn't know if she was feeling differently about me, or what. But I did know this - I had to do something. It couldn't continue like this.One. " Well, have a close look."She pushed herself forward and grabbed my head in two hands, pressing the gusset against my mouth."Now, I will pee and you can't stop me!"Urine squeezed through the cotton into my mouth. I had no option but to drink it. I gulped down about a pint, then I choked and the piss went over my face. It was hot and smelly in my nostrils."You can lick me clean, now."She moved the panties aside with her hand. I looked at her neat slit, it was totally waxed smooth. I could see. Mom looked around, surveyed the immediate area, I suppose making sure I wasn’t around. “Sometimes you just wanna FUCK.” She complained to her sister. I nearly fell off the bench. I’d never considered my mother just wanting to……Fuck! A different light was shining on my mom. “And it might be nice to do it in the car one time, or in the kitchen or on the median of I-43 for Christ’s sake. Just something that has nothing to do with the missionary position.” She went on. “Maybe I should try to get.