Since then, the map of Norway has never ceased to make me smile.I didn’t wank. A consequence of our ‘set-up’ meant that, rather like the Trident...Submarine nuclear deterrent, I was always in a constant state of readiness and preparedness. I didn’t want to waste an ejaculation over a porn mag, soiled panties or underwear section of the shopping catalogue (again, this was seventies Britain) when I might be called upon to shower it over my sister.I hadn’t quite got to sleep when I became aware that. I could have simply picked up my briefcase and left,but at that moment my wife let out a playful shriek andthat got me curious. I went upstairs, not making asound on the carpeted stairway.The door to the master bedroom was partially open and Ilooked in. What a jolt I got.My son was standing there by the bed. He was bare-assednaked, his immense cock angling upward in an awesomehard-on. His mother was on the bed, gazing lustfully ather son’s big boner and she too was naked.My son Steven. More

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