‘Alan! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!’ she screamed at me.I spluttered some incoherent reply, stuffing the offending panties back in the washing b...sket while trying to hide my very erect dick. ‘So, my little pervert of a son likes his mom’s soiled panties does he?’‘Y...yes,’ I stammered. No point in denying the obvious. Red in the face, I began to sob uncontrollably. ‘I’m sorry mom, I’m really sorry.’‘You’re a pathetic little sissyboy. What are you?’‘A s?s?sissyboy mom,’ I stammered through. But there was always the wistful look in students’ eyes when they came back to visit, when they met up with their peers who had made the cut, and were living the dream. Monica walked down the hall to Houlihan’s office. The building was ancient, but well taken care of. The floors were the original wood, lovingly restored, and the white baseboards seemed outrageously tall (five inches, in comparison to the ones in her house, which were maybe two inches high). The offices had crown molding and. More

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