Just at ten forty-five Monday, bitterness and bad temper have to be cleaning under beds and no one ever told him thank you - or even noticing - turned to horror when they discovered a strangely placed shoebox under the bed of José Manuel, his son of sixteen. The mysterious box was not there last month, when he had taken the final Pason vacuum under the beds of the kids. Each month Mrs. Gabriela was the superhuman effort to clean up all the places in which to Victorine, the employee three times a week, it never occurred to him, nor by a miracle, that may have dirt.
His heart went out of his chest and squeezed her throat as, crouched on her lap and five-inch heels, I stretched my arm out of there. already sitting on the bed sweating José Manuel and nerves, with the box on her lap, she wondered to herself what the best way to proceed. Overall, wife and mother was a modern, full party to respect the privacy of your husband and children. normally never would have thought of entering the room of the kids for what he was nit picking. The discovery of the box was complete coincidence. Several thoughts crossed his ordered mind. I will not open, I must respect. But ... " and if drugs? " if my José Manuel is smoking marijuana or getting shit? My fat has always been curious and daring . With tears in her eyes complained that, under the guise of respecting the natural processes of adolescence in the second of his three children, had been much less committed to its obligations as a responsible mother.
opened the box, convinced of their right to do so. Fear the notion of drugs became a different fear when he discovered the contents of the box: three DVDs whose titles suggested a possibility that had never crossed her mind. Softly, softly, perhaps because they did not want to hear she said God! My fat is queer .
immediately stopped and, with a kick and returned the case to where it was found. closed the door and, gasping, he hurried to the kitchen. Perhaps because the denial is very powerful, or because nearly four months without sex more so, sadness and shame of having a queer son were replaced - at least for now - for the delicious moisture that brought the images he had glimpsed in the covers of the movies: gorgeous men (Italian, seemed ... and how much he liked the Italians ...), muscular, hairy some with a piece that promised huge. My son and I saw men with a husband who does not touch me nor fuck, he thought.
tried to continue to clean up without much thought to your child, sure, is touched seeing other men that they should be for her, not him. But the idea of \u200b\u200b see those big guys, lustful, full of sexual desire - so different from her husband - her thighs causing itching and tingling in the breasts. clean would not let her alone. At noon could not help. It was time to cook but did not matter. Later Pollo Campero ask for the whole family. the moment, he chose to violate the privacy of your child to satisfy their own, so devoid of attention so far. With the same haste that a teenager, he inserted one of the movies on the device and enjoyed fifteen minutes of treating your body which amusement park, watching men like those who always wanted but never had. lasted only fifteen minutes in these, because the explosion of pleasure almost that time did not remember, came in just this period of time.
As she put the box back into place, smiling as useful tool to have on hand - all full of meat tool male, all empty of other women and lack of farts belly and your husband - he thanked José Manuel for his box of pleasure, now would be their secret. After all, there was nothing wrong with having a son who go out and buy shoes.
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