Except for one particular night, that is – a night that stands all alone in my memory. After all, it was the night that Mom was shot. She certainly ...as not hurt, but if she reads this story and figures out which of her son’s shot her, that son might not be getting much in the way of Christmas presents this year. Confused? You should be. Let me start at the beginning. The year was 1972. We were living in a small town in western Pennsylvania. There were three of us: Roger was 15 and Rory was 10.. We used showers opposite each other, and took the opportunity to leave the curtains open as we showered. It really was quite horny to watch Bob as he rubbed the shower gel onto his shaved and toned body. We were both clearly taking a little more care than was needed, washing our cocks and between our buttocks as part of a show for the other. We were both getting aroused, but there was plenty of time for fun later. We dried off, covering our semi erections from other users with our towels,. More

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