Rate this story
When I was 12 years old a friend of mine asked if I could spend the weekend at his house. We asked my mom she said ok. I looked forward to being there. I always loved his mom. She was beautiful and always wore dresses and skirts with white slips under them. I remember one day after school my friend and I were playing in the yard he got angry at me and called me a son of a bitch. His mom came to the door and called us inside. She was angry and said I’m going