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He had done some shit a few times, coming home drunk, or drunk and stoned, actually more than a few times, but she had only realized he was high three or four times.

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And she must have five fucking pairs, and those damn stupid tee shirts that are always too freakin' big on her!

The only freakin' parts of her he had seen were her oddball fat calves and piano ankles, her arms basically from her elbows down, and her head!

Gregerson, begging for it in her ass, or it would be her screaming, "Harder! He had a few "Clinton" hookups too when he had been drunk but he now no longer counted those as anything.

When he liked some hot, pretty chick, he was so freakin' nervous, that whenever he had a chance to talk to the girl his brain would go blank, switch off.

Ron had made copies of ten of them with his two VCRs. Gregerson sunning was almost better than beating off to the porn vids, actually, each made the other better. " He would watch her from his bedroom window, usually naked himself, his palm all slicked up with hand lotion, yanking his crank seeing her nearly naked on that cushioned redwood chaise, but also seeing her in his mind, fucking her, fucking her so good, so hard, her mouth, her cunt, her asshole, and the combo of that would make him cum so freakin' hard he'd shoot jiz onto the window sometimes, and it felt so damn good while his prick pumped, but then fifteen minutes later he'd feel so damn ashamed, not only for being a perv, but for his nearly complete failure with girls.

Without the porn vids, he would never have thought of ramming his cock into her hot asshole, or rough fucking her mouth or having his cock between her big tits, her hands holding those big fleshy orbs together making a tit-cunt for his sliding prick then shooting his wad all over them. G sunned, he'd imagine the chicks in them to be Mrs. He wasn't a virgin, he had hooked up twice, fucked both chicks, not total dogs, but he wouldn't have been interested in either of them if he had been sober.

Most girls thought he was an asshole, thought he was stuck up, or a hard-ass loner, or god knew what.

There had been two girls during the past couple years he had really liked, wanted to go out with, not only wanted to thoroughly fuck them, but actually wanted to get to know them, and he had blown it with both girls. He wasn't sad about his mother dying unless he really thought about her, and he hated to admit it, but he really didn't think about her very often anymore. When his father went around the country for three months every summer to supervise road or freakin' bridge construction or whatever that damn company built around the country, he didn't need Aunt Jean to freakin' baby-sit him anymore! He would have been okay being alone for the summer since he was freakin' fifteen! She had never gone swimming in the freakin' pool, not once, not one freakin' time during any of the fucking summers she had been here.

She had never been some dictator during the summers she stayed with him, although she wouldn't let him walk all over her either, but he had never really tried that.

She had never attempted to be a replacement mom either.

Those times had made him mad as hell because he never told on her.

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