I Love My Mummy

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I expected him to tell me more about his dreams of designing great buildings, of planning cities, but instead he talked about the educational system, and how it seemed almost set up to drive the really creative stu­dents out. Les went on and on about this, with an edge of self-pity that I almost disliked. Still, I sat and listened, spellbound. She didn’t hurt you, Beth, it was those kids with their gossiping tongues,” he insisted. “If you hadn’t been told, you wouldn’t have found out. You were happy up till then—it was the kids’ fault, don’t you see?”

I understand now that Mom was a rare and wonderful woman in her way, simply overflowing with love for everybody. The trouble was that she was not always very wise about whom she loved and how she loved them.

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This 40 something beauty and self described MILF is ready to cum for you, and it is clear she loves every minute she spends in front of the camera. Whether she is getting it on with a partner or doing one of her famous solo shows, you can bet the scene will end with a mind blowing orgasm – and even a squirt or two. Arguably the owner of one of the best mature OnlyFans accounts, Caly is clearly up for anything you have to offer. #7. Arabelle De Rose – Hottest Aussie There are some brownies in the breadbox,” she said. “you can have a couple before going to bed, if you like.” At that time I was trying desperately to overcome my feelings of shyness and inferiority. Some friendly teacher had suggested that I join the debating club. I was petrified at the thought of getting up to speak about anything at all in front of any kind of audience, and the very idea of having to present a case arguing in favor of something scared me beyond words. I knew I never could, and yet I knew I had to try. There had to be some way out of my cage of self-consciousness.

Your mother isn’t a bad woman, Beth,” my father told me. “She’s just so full of life, and full of love, that she can’t give herself to just one person.” He had taken a job as a draughtsman in a firm of architects in Mercersberg, making good money for a summer job. After a week or two he told me, “College is a waste of time. It took me a year to find that out, and one week on this job. This is the best preparation for what I want to do.” Well, it was my own fault. I didn’t know what the opposition would be like, and I got lazy. This time, I was all set, loaded for bear, and the bear was sitting in the audience.” How late do you think you’ll be?” asked Mom. For the first time, I grasped the significance of that question. She wanted to know how long she’d have the house to herself.

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He wanted to be an architect, and had been accepted at a good college. He knew it would be tough, and long, not very rewarding, financially, at first. But he had great ideas about buildings he wanted to design, not just individual buildings or houses, but whole complicated groups of them. Communities—acres of houses, clustered around shopping facilities, churches, schools. Roads and sidewalks planned so that children could walk to school without once crossing a street. Factories built underground. We decided against the pizza almost immediately. We drove, instead, to a quiet, high-class cafe down by the river, where they had tiny tables with softly glowing candles. It turned out that our dining table was inadequate to use for anything but the most crude sketches, and we couldn’t afford to buy a professional drawing board. So Les had to spend Saturday and Sunday at the home of an artist friend in Mercersberg, using his drawing board to prepare the plans for Mom’s remodeling job. I’m afraid I nagged him incessantly about it when he was around. He was silent a long moment, then sat down again. “That—that couldn’t be helped, Beth,” he sighed. “I just wasn’t—man enough, for her. It was better this way. Believe me.”

Oh, don’t wait up for me, Morn,” I said airily. “We’ll probably bring the morning home with us. We have a lot to talk about, don’t we, Les?” It was exasperating. I was beginning to transfer some of my anger to Daddy. After all, in a sense, he was an injured party, too.No, I mean it. Your mother’s a fine figure of a woman, but you’re a lot prettier. Seems a funny thing for a young fellow like Les.” Three speakers from my school, and three from Mercersberg squared off against each other, and with growing anxiety I realized that I would have to answer the dark-haired Galahad who I’d been staring at earlier. I didn’t know how I could. As he rose to speak, I sank deeper in my chair, and I don’t be­lieve I heard a word he said.

I remember thinking that it didn’t matter so much now, whatever Mom had been doing while I was gone. But even so, I was startled and disgusted to see a stale cigar butt in an ashtray. On those weekends where I was displaced from my home, my mother graciously offered to allow me to return to the home of my youth. It was a wonderful, miserable proposition. When the arrangement ended a few months later and my husband bought his own house, I missed those times at my mother's house dearly. Well, in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a slight slump in the building business in this part of the state. The firm just doesn’t have enough work for me to do. They gave me two weeks’ severance pay, so I guess that should prove it wasn’t my fault.”Oh, I can’t complain,” said Mom. “I have twenty kids now, and an assistant—really too many for the space I’ve got, but it seems there are so many working mothers now. I’ve been thinking that I really ought to go at this thing seriously, now that Bethie is settled in a home of her own.” Ah, now, honey, don’t you get mad at me,” said Daddy, almost whining. “I never was much of a fighter I accepted what was going to happen. I let her do what she had to do. It’s better that way—we’re still friends.” Then he added slyly, “Even at my age, a man’s got to have a lady friend.” By the time Les brought me home, the eastern sky was turning blue. I had no idea what time it was and I didn’t care. It was three weeks till the end of school, and I could afford to miss a day. Last night was worth it. He kissed me lightly on the tip of my nose. “I’ll call this afternoon,” he promised, and I tiptoed inside the house. He needed money for college, and took a summer job as a paste-up artist in a small advertising agency in Mercersberg. It didn’t pay as much as he needed, so he took a second job, assisting the printer of the Mercersberg Herald at night. I didn’t see much of him that summer. In the fall, after school had started for me, Les came over once or twice before leaving for college, but his mind was only half on me. He was preoccupied with his plans.