Talk about humiliating, I had just returned from picking up my girlfriend. I was bringing mom back from the airport. She'd gone to see her sister. That day was my 18th birthday and we were going to have a wing-ding in my honor.
As we got back home, the three of us were stunned to see my possessions outside the house in a pile. 'A pile' was accurate as they were now more junk than valuables. My LCD TV now had a nice hole in the screen. Mom apologized for her 'old man' who'd vowed that I would be out the door when I turned 18. She never believed he'd be so literal, or so cold and cruel about it.
My mom had been 'fixed up' with 'her old man' by friends of their two families. She was only 19 when he was 40, but his family did have money. My mom came from 'humble origins', not to say poor. When she got pregnant with me, it was just natural they'd get married. The only thing was, he always wondered about that pregnancy. When I asked mom years later about how I came about, she just smiled. After that, 'father' became 'her old man'.
Now she was 37--he was 58. Mom had 'hung in there' in the hopes of one day cashing in. She sacrificed much, though. Whereas she had reached her peak, perfecting her figure thru yoga and aerobics, her 'old man' had only aged badly like a $5 box of wine. So whereas mom was just reaching her sexual peak, he was in a drastic state of decline. It led to my mom being frustrated 24/7.
So, here was my birthday. My girlfriend insisted I take her home; my dad was too scary for her to deal with. I dumped her off and came back to what was once my home. My beautiful mother apologized as I packed the remnants of my lifelong possessions into my twelve year old minivan for a drive into the unknown.
His trashing of everything I owned was only the last battle in a war he had unilaterally conducted against me as long as I could remember. When he noticed that I got kindness and affection from mom, he scathingly said I'd never have a wife of my own, let alone children.
There it stood for a while. For a few months, I lived in a foreclosed home. Not having rent money, it worked out for me. I had no address and no phone. Thankfully, mom had kept my cellphone number.
When I got the call, it was like a bolt out of the blue. I had been working in a home improvement warehouse, moving builder's supplies on and off palettes. If I wasn't strong before, I had gotten so just from working there. I had to take mom's call right from the shower.
As I stood dripping all over the floor, I was stunned to hear that I was needed back at home. I clicked off the cellphone and found myself staring into the full length mirror on the door. As I gazed upon my warehouse-honed physique, checking out my big 'guns', I wondered if this could get me closer to mom.
Closing my eyes I remembered her goodnight 'tuck-ins'. I felt a bit funny and looked down, noting that I had gotten rock hard. With my cock well above my navel, I knew I wanted mom badly and wouldn't stop till I had her.
It seems that the national furniture chain that authorized the three local stores owned by mom's 'old man' required a certain advertising budget be maintained. In other words, he had to make commercials for their products and then air them. They even paid him a 'bonus' every year which, conveniently, was just enough for those ads. No problem, except that he had developed three weaknesses over the years:
One: unlike my incredibly fit, lithe mom, he'd become almost cherubic and paunchy. Two: his hair had made like a bad army and deserted him. Three: he'd developed an 'interest' in gambling. Unfortunately, he hadn't developed a 'talent' for gambling. He lost big, including the advertising budget and any profits from the stores.
He confessed all of this to my gorgeous mother. He said he would lose the stores in 30 days per the contract unless he made ads and aired them. He found a station that would air the ads before payment (the fools), but that was it. He still needed the commercial. He remembered that one of the few undamaged items of mine that he'd dumped outside was a digital camera. He wanted me to make the ad for him.
So, he'd come 'crawling back to me'. I agreed to help: he was desperate and willing to pay any price. I told myself that somehow that price would be my supersexy mother...
He told me this year the new line was 'love furniture'. There were couches, love seats, and swings, all made to accommodate lovers. We had to demonstrate the items on TV and then for in-store display. The TV ads would just have models together, not moving. The in-store display, for adults interested in buying, would show models in full action...IN THE NUDE...
Okay...TIME OUT....what would YOU do? Here I was asked to help out someone who had destroyed all of my worldly things just to satisfy some dark thought. He'd never so much as cheered me on at school or the ball park, or paid me the smallest allowance. He even gave me a 'shiner' (black eye) when I was 13 and he thought I'd talked back to him. My wonderful mother had had to step in and save the day whenever we locked horns.
So now he came crawling back. What could I do? What should I do? It took a good three seconds for me to figure it all out.
Me: "Okay, I will make the commercials. We just need to go to your store after hours, set up some lights, etc. The big expense would be models. Since they'd cost a few thousand, which neither of us have apparently, we'll have to find substitutes. I volunteer myself for the male role. For the female role, I called my girlfriend...the one that got freaked out when she saw my stuff dumped outside our house. She left me...well she's still gone. So, unless you know someone, the only person I can envision working for free is, well...MOM."
You never saw two heads spring backwards like whiplash in a car accident. It took a few moments before they realized it WAS the only way out for them.
Mom: "What...what do I have to do?"
Me: "For the TV ads, we just have to lie on top of each other. We would wear nothing but would have the towels or other things where we 'touched'. For the in-store infomercials, it would be the same thing, only they would have to be more discrete so they weren't seen."
Him: "That is out of the question! In one case, the two of you would be naked, lying together like some lovers with only a hand towel separating your privates? And what about that 'other video' for the store itself? Am I to believe that you and your broken down old bag of a mother would act as if you were lovers, both of you in the nude?? Then, what, the only thing separating you and that bitch would be a condom? No...this is too much...I'd rather lose the stores than allow this!"
My mother had been standing idly by as all this went on. She didn't like the fact that he had blown all of their money on gambling, or that he desperately needed help just to retain those stores. She didn't like being called a 'bitch' or a 'broken down old bag'. Furious, she finally spoke up:
Mom: "Hey, wait, no one has asked ME what I thought! I'm the one that would have to take it all off. [We all looked at her.] I say, if it will save the family stores, let's do it."
Him: "Are you sure about that Sue? Those still photos for the TV ads wouldn't be a problem. You two could look away or be just out of focus enough so your friends couldn't tell. However, those in-store videos for interested buyers would have to show you two in action. Condom or no condom, do you really want your musclebound dope of a son pounding away at your sensitive insides?"
Him: "From those Speedos he wore cleaning the pool last summer, I couldn't help but notice he 'packs a lot of meat'. Do you really want your own son's long thick cock driving in and out, in and out, again and again, just for some industrial info film? I mean, condom or not, at some point he might lose it. Then you'd have to experience the embarrassment when he came into that condom. And what about that condom? I mean, they're not 100% foolproof."
Him: "What if it failed and some of his young, potent baby-making sperm was to escape and enter your fertile womb? Here you were, just trying to help out when all of a sudden your ovum is assaulted by millions of sperm, seeds looking to plant themselves. Just think of it, your egg fertilized by your own half-witted big cocked son. One moment you'd innocently made a video and the next moment, you're home not realizing that you had just conceived."
Him: "Then what?? Both of our families have always been against abortion, so you'd have no choice but to give birth. I can just see your swollen belly, heavy with child. Then you'd give birth to a bastard child; that second child you always wanted. God, if you enjoyed the painless birth, you might even decide to have a small family with that worthless punk--maybe filling up a house with a little baby boom of your own."
At this point, mom chimed in that she had an old diaphragm that would be a second line of defense. Would that make it okay? Her idea worked on him... after his lengthy diatribe against doing the ads, both mom and I were more determined than ever. So, it began.
There we all were in the closed store one Sunday night. Mom's bald, tubby 'old man' was working the camera as best he could. I'd just given him a fifteen minute lesson, but he sure seemed clueless.
There I was, just wearing a supporter. In anticipation of that day, I had worked out feverishly so that I was in peak shape. Contrasting with him, I was tanned, buff, chiseled. I'd look great in the ads, whether photo or DVD. I awaited my beautiful mother.
Now remember: I'd never had even the slightest thing to do with my mom as to romance. Well, I will amend that for you slightly. I was not aware that mothers stop kissing their children goodnight long before they turn eighteen. Every night that I slept at home, my mom would kiss me goodnight (!)
Little did I know that she had not 'gotten it', let alone gotten it good, for years and years. So, when she kissed me goodnight, a lingering kiss on the lips, it was more than what a mother should be doing. I guess most moms didn't take two, three or four minutes for a goodnight kiss.
My mom came out finally, wearing a thick white terrycloth robe. As we got to the first piece of 'love furniture', a red couch in an "L" shape for fun purposes, she dropped the robe. This was a first exposure for me. I had to keep from shouting: "God, mom, you are so f-cking hot!"
I had never seen my mom in a state of undress and she was incredible. Closing in on forty, her petite five foot two frame was like some mature porn star. Later I learned she had to wear 36D bras; anything smaller would literally burst open.
Her slim hips flowed into glistening thighs and shapely legs. Slender ankles and gorgeous feet, smooth and perfect, filled out the picture. She had Joy perfume just to add to the luster of the evening. I had to admit to myself: she was a walking wet-dream...
As I stared at my supersexy mom, he had to take a brief break. To my surprise, she turned away from me, bent over slightly, reached in, and removed something. She slipped it under one of the couch pillows. It was her diaphragm.
Mom: "Remember that diaphragm that he insisted I wear? He even watched as I put it in. Well, he just missed watching me take it out. I am totally unprotected now!"
As she stood before me, hands covering her incredibly perfect boobs, we both heard a rending sound like cloth being stretched.
Mom noticed what I was wearing:
Mom: "Say, isn't that the supporter that was handed down to you from him?"
I looked down and realized that it was. Just then, the sound of material stretching changed to ripping. As mom demurely covered her puss with her other hand, the ripping sound increased until 'RIPPP!'
That supporter flew apart, the elastic just giving out. My huge ten inch cock had erected and had to come out to play. There I stood, now having to cover up like mom. My mother for her part stared openly at this humongous babymaker that had emerged magically from its supporter containment.
Mom: "God, Jimmy, you are so big...so hard! He warned me that I would be tempted by my musclebound big-cocked son. I thought he was just exaggerating. Oh, it's been so many years...so very long since I've had love. I wonder what that thing would feel like, dragging its uncut head up and down, back and forth, in and out, against my oh-so-very-sensitive insides. I'm so proud of you...so strong and healthy, so virile. If I wasn't your mother, I think I'd be all over you, begging you to give me a baby...YOUR baby."
Before I could say anything, he returned. We set up the still shots which basically meant we'd make some silly static love position pose. Presumably the people wouldn't realize that we had a towel or sheet between us. It went fast and was a snooze.
Then we had to make the infomercial for in-house use for serious adult buyers at the stores. To do that, we had to simulate sex in order to display the sexy love furniture.
The first item was that red couch in the "L" shape I mentioned before. With that linen sheet between us, we could move around without anyone knowing we were totally 'modest' where it counted.
Throughout all of this, mom's 'old man' was acting more and more like an experienced Hollywood director instead of a dumpy furniture store owner. He would bark out directions like some 'method' acting coach or auteur.
Mind you, we had to do vignettes for all ten pieces of furniture. Even with a sheet between us, mom could feel my burgeoning cock. Like a fireplace poker, my hard love rod could be felt by her. It stroked her clit and made her pussy lips damp. Finally, by the last furniture demo, the 'swing', her pussy lips dripped from excitement. Her nipples had popped and were so erect they were about to fly off.
I for my part had gotten hard and stayed rock hard throughout the entire shoot. Being so close to and in such intimate contact with my gorgeous mom for the entire evening, my family jewels were bloated, swollen to an enormous size, drooping with potent seed.
When we got to the last furniture piece, that 'swing', he realized that we couldn't use any linen sheet or anything.
Him: "On this last thing before we finish, we're stuck. The only solution is for your gorilla son to wear a condom. I brought a pack just in case."
He threw me the package. I handed it to mom (to his fury) to put on me.
Mom: "Oh yes, this is the type he's used always.[i.e. 'the old man'] Here, let me try and...oh my...oh my."
Try as mom might, his condoms did not even begin to fit. As a matter of fact, his entire condom got caught in my foreskin until mom fished it out.
Mom: "Jimmy's too big for your LITTLE BOYS' condoms; go to the drugstore on Main Street and get the biggest that they sell, the type for MEN." [He left.]
Mom: "God, this is gorgeous. [She stroked the length of my manly cock while providing a comforting temporary home for my swollen sack with her other hand. She hefted those jewels attempting to appreciate their weight, but they were too big, too full to fit in one hand.] What woman wouldn't want that thing in her, mother or no mother? What woman wouldn't want the child that might result from this huge love tool?"
Mom: "Truth or dare: I dare you to somehow transfer this wonderful seed [she again cupped my swollen sack, now the size of two baseballs.] into my womb. Today's my peak day, so if you come inside me, I WILL get pregnant. And if you DO get me knocked up, I WILL give birth. SO, are you man enough to make my day....PUNK?"`
We both laughed. I kissed mom deeply, not releasing her from my arms until he'd returned. He threw me the package. Again I let mom do the honors. These condoms were perhaps eight times the volume of his condoms. One of them just barely fit. Mom kept muttering "what a man!", "this thing is still not big enough", and "God, what a baby-maker!"
We finally made our way to that 'love swing'. Basically, the man would sit on a reclined bent chair while his lover would be in a swing, literally a 'sling' suspended from a sturdy metal pole. She would then swing to and fro, allowing penetration on the down swing. To film it without showing the condom, he had to film from behind my shoulder. Of course, hiding the condom from view for the camera also hid it from HIS view.
As we filmed this final scene, for the first time, my mighty cock was getting the incredible honor of penetrating my gorgeous mother. Her eyes became teary before they closed in passion. The swing gave us a certain rhythm to the love-making. Midway thru the shoot, my mom was whispering something to me, hoping he wouldn't hear. Well, he DIDN'T hear, but neither did I.
For a brief moment, he had to stop to take yet another bathroom break. I for my part remained absolutely hard, utterly erect. I asked mom what she was whispering.
Mom: "Just this!!!"
To my amazement, she grabbed that condom, ripped it off my huge cock and angrily threw it across the room. I held my cock to cover that up when he returned later. Before he came back, though, mom just had to tease me:
Mom said: "Honey, you're now bareback. You better be careful; if you deposit your manly seed deep inside of me, you're liable to do this to your innocent housewife mommy!"
She was being 'cute'; she stuck out her normally flat tummy as if she was pregnant and lovingly caressed her 'baby bump' as if it were real. That shouldn't have worked, but the image of a baby in there, MY baby, made me even more turned on, if that was possible.
When he said 'ACTION!' he got action!! We went at it like breeding rabbits. Little did he know that I was unencumbered down there; that my cock was touching parts of mom that hadn't been touched in years...IF EVER. Best of all, with the condom now hidden behind a couch, there was no protection whatsoever.
At a certain point he said that that was enough footage; we could stop and go home. Well, maybe HE COULD, but we hadn't finished. He must have said 'cut!' a dozen times, only to see us continue the action.
He stood silently, appalled, as we didn't stop. Indeed, we only sped up as we were closing in on a climax, THE climax of all-time.
Me: "Mom, please tell me, right in front of him, making it official. Can I cum inside of you? Do you want my cum, my sperm, inside of you?"
Mom: [She glared at him.] "For the record, yes sweetheart. I desperately want your seed inside of me; I love you and I cherish your sperm. Please put it inside me....DEEP inside me!"
Me: "Even if it means you risk getting pregnant...pregnant with MY baby?"
Mom: "Yes, sweetheart; especially if it means getting pregnant with your baby! I'm asking you to cum inside me...NOW! I want to have your baby!"
Well, I didn't have to be told twice. When mom had torn that condom off of me, my bareback cock had plunged back in. The very rough uncut cockhead had been dragged across her vaginal walls, actually catching on bumps until its rigidity had sprung it back to straight, allowing it to plumb the fertile depths.
I was just long enough to tap gently at her innermost walls, making her squirm and moan. My manhood was withdrawn and re-entered with more and more speed, more and more power. As that old fool continued to film, we were building up to a simultaneous orgasm of record dimensions. The fact that he said 'cut' was the least important thing ever. We just kept right on 'truckin'.
So, as he stood mutely by, our bodies went into hyper-drive. Finally, both mom and I looked to the ceiling as we let out moans at the exact same moment. I locked my lips on my gorgeous mom. She could feel my manhood swell with power and virility. My hugely inflated testes pulled tight and then made like a bellows. My cum laden with almost 98% pure baby-making sperm was propelled into the deepest reaches of mom's reproductive system with almost superhuman force. Mom whispered to me: "My God, I can feel it! So much cum, so much love...you really must want a baby, don't you?That happened not just once but fully six times. Six times I came. Total time was actually only a minute for the actual transfer from my reservoir to her fertile womb. But man, those were sixty of the most heavenly seconds in history.
Our little 'passion play' drew the inevitable reaction. Mom's 'old man' flew into a rage about what a sick mother she was. Mind you, she and I were bare-butt naked as he yelled, her beaver muff still dripping a frothy crème pie from the action.
I let him have his say, but when he slapped mom for emphasis, I just had to give him a 'love tap'. I guess I forgot my own strength. Moving those 50 pound sacks of cement, I was just a tad stronger than him...say tenfold. At least that made him quiet down, once he came to, three hours later.
Well, everything worked out in the end, if unexpectedly. Mom filed for a divorce the next Monday. The resolution facilitator (for the courts) ended up giving mom control of the businesses. We just had to pay him for his half, LESS the part he squandered on gambling. So, mom shed the 'old man' for $10,000, ending up with our house and the businesses worth $1million.
The promo film for the furniture was picked up by the manufacturer, who paid some serious money for the film and the right to use it nationally. They even wanted the footage that he had taken of the final session. Mom's 'old man' had said 'cut' but hadn't turned off the camera. We didn't sell THAT footage; it was too hot for public airplay. It did make a nice keepsake DVD for us.
At the end of the day, we sold our home and mom's businesses for a pretty penny and moved to a state some 1,000 miles away. Using mom's restored maiden name per the divorce decree, we settled into a small farm community.
After an hour of hair coloring, a slightly grey at the temple man and his youthful wife now lived on a big farm expanse. With mom wearing a beautiful white gown, we snuck over to the county court, hoping that we could quietly get hitched.
At the county court house, mom got a brilliant idea. She faked having a baby bump under that wedding gown. The clerk joked with us, sensing that we were nervous about making the kid 'legal', not that we were mother and son. With a snap, click of his stamp, he notarized the marriage certificate and it was all legal. In a new home, with a new wife, and a baby on the way, we were in blue heaven.
YEARS LATER:
Just out of sentimentality, we wanted to see the 'old haunts'. So, we packed up the cross-over (ok, it was a mini-van) with our six kids and drove back to the old hometown. We had long ago sold the business and our old house.
Curious, we drove to the apartment that mom's old man had moved into: one of those 55 and over places. To our surprise, we found him sitting on the curb. It seems he still had the gambling bug and hadn't paid his rent. All of his stuff had been moved outside, including his small LCD TV, which now had a broken screen. It was amazingly like what I had experienced.
It was horribly cruel (perhaps), but when we saw him looking our way, we flashed him our big gold wedding bands, then kissed passionately. Mom then reached around her seat, undoing the youngest from the car seat. She glared at him as we both held up the newborn. Then she opened one side of her nursing bra. She momentarily held the baby to the side, allowing me to bend over and take a deep draught of her warm, sweet mother's milk. I sat up, knowing it would have its usual effect on me (I got stiff as iron.) Mom once again proudly held up the newborn as the symbol of our new union.
Then she carefully stuck her pinky into the baby's little mouth and placed the beautiful nipple in. The newborn knew nothing of our planet EXCEPT that if he smashed with his tongue and tugged with his lips, he'd be rewarded with a warm mouthful of velvety smooth breastmilk. As we headed to the turnpike, never to return, our newest drank to his heart's content. He drove me mad as I heard the 'zit zit' as he happily suckled that vanilla goodness.
Hours later, we decided we'd drive home nonstop. We pulled over and I made like the newborn. Drinking my fill, I was re-energized. Mom was curled up on the front seat. I caressed the baby soft soles of her gorgeous feet and kissed her before hitting the highway again. Mom gave all the toddlers formulae before she nodded off. Re-charged and inspired, I easily made it home in one day.
When we got home, I carefully and quietly carried all of the sleeping babies into the house. It was an endless profusion our little baby boom had created. After putting all six to bed, I carried my gorgeous mother, now wife, into the ranch house. She was so delighted that we had gotten home with nothing more taxing than a long nap that she offered to do anything I wanted. I kissed her tender lips, my tongue lapping at her teeth.
She said she was too tired and besides, we had no protection, we had agreed to stop at six children, and she was fertile at the moment--REAL fertile. Disappointed and frustrated, I plopped myself down on the bed. To my rescue, my beautiful mother sat up, bent over, and stuck an erect nipple into my hungry mouth.
I suckled like our newborn, noisily and enthusiastically. Mom knew what effect that had. Sure enough, she now rolled over and took my enormous baby-maker into her skilled hands. I ended up murmuring 'mom' and 'oh God!' before I vented my passion into mom's warm and welcoming mouth.
When we were finished mom got up quietly. I was confused; I had not heard her dump anything out nor swallow. Sure enough, she bent over me and proceeded to let it all drool out at once into an empty teacup. The volume that ran down her chin and cheeks was as if someone had poured a quart jar of thick off-white liquid on her beautiful face. I was so proud. She lovingly caught all of it in that cup and swallowed every drop.
The next night we were watching TCM when they played the old movie: "Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow" with the incredibly beautiful Sophia Loren. In the first part, voluptuous Sophia played a fertile welfare mom whose flat was crowded with cribs and cots filled with her offspring.
In spite of that, she offered herself to her husband, wanting even more babies. That was so sexy I wanted to knock up my lovely wife/mother one more time. She said that it would have to be something real special to make us reproduce one last time.
A month later we got a postcard asking us for a contribution to the men's mission back in our old hometown. Mom told me that must mean that he was living at the mission...how else would they know we were out here? She related some terrible things he had done to her that she'd never told me about. I told mom about his taunts at me that I'd never have a wife and child of my own as well as the occasional physical 'discipline' he meted out.
That was enough for mom to act: she wrote a letter to him at that address. To guarantee he'd write back, she sent a family photo of our huge brood in front of the family home. She also included the long concealed fact that I indeed had been fathered by someone else! I said that was far too cruel, but when she asked me again, I said it was richly deserved and sweet. We sent it out.
About two weeks later, we got a letter back. However, it was on a letterhead from the Men's Mission and not from him. They asked me if we knew a certain person since we had written to him. Their formal letter disclosed that for reasons unknown, he had read something, thrown it into a huge dumpster, and then used a cheap 25 automatic he found on himself. Did we know this person?
We wrote them back that we'd written him by mistake, thinking he was related. That night all six kids were fast asleep. Mom took out our letter to him and the resulting letter. It was cold and heartless, but we clinked champagne flute glasses and drank to 'love, sex, and lots of babies'. We turned on the TIVO recording of that Sophia Loren film—the scene with all of those babies jammed into their bedroom.
I carefully placed my wife/mother in the center of our king-sized bed on a sea of pillows. Beneath all of those pillows were those two letters. I proceeded to mount mom.
Her hand lovingly guided me in. I plunged in all the way and then withdrew until only the absolute end of my cock was lightly brushing against her. With hard cock applied to sopping wet pussy, we once again turned into a well-tuned love machine/baby factory. For fifteen solid minutes, I plunged my babymaker all the way in and then removed it. As we did it, incredible pressure was building up in my testes.
It was wicked, but the thought that my tormentor had done himself in after realizing that I had won out over him was overwhelming. With visions of getting my beautiful mother's belly swollen with child one last time, I came with my usual atomic power and tsunami wave volume. Mom once again was at her peak of fertility and once again had a sperm-filled pussy. This last baby was intended to replace you know who from back home.
So ends the tale. The man who had hounded me as a youth, taunting me that I'd never live to have my own family was ironically informed that it was HE that had had no family. I on the other hand now had a huge brood of seven.
Another bit of irony was that we received a certified letter from a well-known insurance company who'd tracked us down. It seems that he had whole life paid up by the companies and now the $100,000 policy was paid to us. I guess he'd forgotten about that or he would've cashed it in for its equity.
With that last bit of good fortune, we hired a very nice older woman to take care of our brood. Now when we heard the bawling babies, it wasn't a call to work and more work. No, now it was just a siren song of the passion we had felt making that little baby boom of our own.
With our nanny in place, we could again spend weekends making love, wearing nothing but our birthday suits. With the nanny preparing formulae for the nursery, I prevailed upon mom to keep her wonderful milk for me and me alone. It was totally selfish, but everything from coffee to baked goods used mom's own 'private stock' milk to make them all the richer and sexier.
I even thought that precious white liquid made me stronger; when I hit a plateau in the weight room, I just slapped on another 100 lb. weight and drank a bottle of that white nectar. It made no sense, but I could lift that ridiculous weight right after guzzling that liquid gold.
For a guy who was fated to not have his own wife let alone his own family, I was pretty lucky. The best mom in the world was also the best wife and lover. Seven kids did not fill the Rose Bowl but it did overflow our mini-van and barely fit into the full-size van. My mom used that as an excuse for not having more.
One day we drove in the country and found a used orange and black school bus for sale at $500. I looked at mom and said: "Just think, that could hold TWENTY children!" I smiled and winked.
She thought I wanted to re-start the baby factory and could only say: "Uh oh!""