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I could be hurt just as bad as I hurt my mom. In a weird way it made me a better person, a better man. I know that my actions do have rape xxx consequences. I have seen both sides of the coin: Rapist and Rape victim. The lesson was learned, our slate was clean.
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The story could have ended there. I should have let it go right there. The thing is, I still loved her. I had to take a chance, to tell her how I felt, to show her that I wanted her. My mother had a mental block. She simply could not accept that she was in love with me, that she wanted me. I would need to shock some sense into her, to force her to accept the truth. It seems I would have no choice but to rape her one last time to get her attention, to earn the right to love her. Considering our recent family tradition, I decided to do her on Christmas day. I also would continue the practice of sending the story to Mr. Double and White Shadow (Duh Jaz, they are reading it right now). It seemed only right, since you had all been there at the beginning, to let you know how our story ends. I also wanted my mom to know exactly why I had raped her again. It was not out of greedy lust like thee first time. It was not because of revenge, like when she raped me. No I was raping her sweet pussy because I loved her, and needed her to love me too.
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We spent Christmas Eve together. It was snowing so I dared her to come outside and have a snowball fight with me. My mom has a hard time not accepting a dare. Soon we were flinging white balls of icy destruction at each other, laughing and having a blast. Then she crossed the line and shoved a ball down my shirt. Her eyes got big and she tried to run away. She did not get far.
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I tackled her on our front lawn. " John, John I am sorry, I did not mean to do it, but you look so cute," she giggled madly in anticipation of my reprisal. = = straddled her waist and opened her coat, then I pulled her sweater up to her neck exposing her fat, beautiful tits. " Oh god no, John what are you doing, let me up this instant. People can see us," she hissed in despair. I grabbed two handfuls of snow and packed it around each of her breasts.
rape story I was so scared. Imagine sleeping every night with a rapist in your house. You try taking a shower knowing your rapist is just a few yards away. You're naked, wet and defenseless and you hear a floor board creak, or was it the bathroom door opening? For two months I barricaded my door every night, and slept in fear of a second rape. It never came. As Valentine's day approached II found my 16 yr old son crying in the kitchen. I was still his mother. No matter how angry I was at him. "John what's wrong, why are you crying."