My Mother......The Whore

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Hector_Chavez_V, Apr 4, 2011.

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  1. It’s true, the inescapable and long since ignored fact that is being thrust at mach 10 into my face each and every day is that my Mum seems to have developed a very public reaffirmation of her liking for cock.

    Mum can be a sultry type, early Fifties, educated and with the slightest hint of an Eastern European accent that hangs softly on her conversational voice but scrambles forward like a line out when pissed off. I had my 15th at home and my Dad (gaaaawd rest ‘is sole!) unwittingly allowed a number of us to proff some quality malts rendering most of the male attendees spewing into various receptacles whilst waiting for their parents to pick them up. Good party all round but I do however remember a couple of days later a spotty lad with double braces lisping out to my gang of miscreant mates that my Mother was ‘well fit’ and that he would ‘shag her’, I wiped my slightly moistening eyes, shook out the image of the spotty bastard rubbing his pubescent gland at the thought of my raven haired lovely Mum, then drowned out the growing cacophony of mocking jeers before twatting the geeky cunt in the grid earning me 5 days of dinner hours staring at Mr Harris’ pickle jars full of preserved snakes and queer looking fish. (I re-affirmed my status as Year 10’s resident weirdo by robbing a jar with a decade old snake in it and pouring it into the back of an old piano that was used to greet us all into assembly, it fucking reeked).

    Anyway, Dad is dead; nature handed that cruellest twist of fate to a man who never smoked, trained hard every day and was probably guilty of doing a bottle of Bush in once a week then falling asleep in front of Colombo, his soul rests on the edge of his beloved Celtic Sea with the plaque of his beloved Corps and he is now forever in my thoughts

    Mum though? Well, to be frank I am disgusted. In the 3 months I was away she seemed to settle into the merry widow role quite well. The following is the result of a drunken conversation with a very drunken Sister;

    • Mum works in mental health, somewhere in its upper echelons, so works with a variety of different professionals, one of which, a coloured gentleman called ‘Steve’ with whom she has had several dates with and is now apparently her current suitor. They met on a team building exercise and their handmade raft was the only one to stay afloat, so it’s all la di fucking daaah! (vomit)

    Not wanting to delay the stomach churning inevitability of incoming truth and with my teeth scraping hard against each other I asked my sister, (who was by now trying to light the wrong end of a cigarette with a huge kitchen match and who was seconds away from igniting her hair), what else did I need to know? I almost saw the light flicker and dance in her cold eyes when she whispered conspiratorially to me that ‘Steve’ had stayed at Mother’s not once, but twice and apparently “the third time didn’t count really as he was there for the whole weekend”, taking this in was no fun, neither were the Daliesque like images of black on white smut involving my 5ft 1” Mum and what I imagined in my drunken state to be the City of Leed’s physical embodiment of Joe Louis pounding into her grateful and sex starved yawner like a mad man.

    Feigning indifference and swallowing back the hot lick of bile, I tested the water further and said ‘well it’s been a while since Dad has gone so I suppose it’s natural, good on her, in fact I’d love to meet the man who is making my Mum happy’ (at that point I was metaphorically wrestling with a new image of her been spun round on ‘Steve’s’ wrist thick cock on the side of the bed my old man liked the most). Apparently not;

    According to my well oiled Sis who operatically sang out ‘OOOOOOOOOOOOOH Nooooooooo it gets much better!”(And whom I now wished to set about with vigorous axe kicks and windpipe aimed jabs) Mum had been quite the belle of the Village over the last 6 months.

    • Facebook, that cesspit of lonely old cunts chasing skirt from their younger days had offered up a ‘nice bloke’ who apparently had a little sportycar with a soft top; yes, it became readily apparent that Mum had indeed spent a week flirting on the internet before offering her now welcoming clapper to some hairy, guitar playing Engelbert fucking Humperdinck type by travelling to York for some unhurried weekend fun.

    • The Land Lord of the village’s only half decent pub has expressed his interest now my once bear like Father is about as likely to put in an appearance as is Crio’s miscarried jumble of fused limbs and Trisomy 21.

    To top it all off, the brassy bitch is off on a Shirley Valentine type adventure with her friend Marion, a huskier and fatter version of Rula Lenska, cue the inevitable fortnight of dirty dancing with coffee coloured waiters and endless ‘Carry On’ type booby flashing round the pool.

    If she brings one home I’m going to have it shot....,

    (and I’ve decided I can’t kiss her again either :puker: :puker: )
     
    • Like Like x 1
  2. Giz a phone number then, i'll then give you a blow by blow account how how she felated me in a Wetherspoons disabled toilet.
     
  3. maguire

    maguire LE Book Reviewer

    so, er...whats her facebook address then?
     
  4. You wouldnt want me as a Step Son, I'm too clingy and you'll get sick of dragging round a badly tattooed wretch around ASDA just so you can keep firing glue into my Mum....
     
    • Like Like x 1
  5. And the golden rule:
    Pictures please........
     
  6. Depends how good looking you are I could creep into your room and make you touch Mr Underpants.
     
    • Like Like x 2
  7. Ask nicely and maybe 'Steve' will deal you Death By Bo-Bo as well.

    You know you want to.
     
  8. Could I have a snap shot just to confirm we aren't thinking of the same person?

    Legs akimbo, I would know that horses collar anywhere.
     
  9. Ive yet to see him. I am thinking of putting my old mans dressing gown on, with an accompanying lifelike face mask so I can stand at the end of the bed and wake them up before sticking the lighs on.

    She'd love that....
     
    • Like Like x 1
  10. This is one of her famous 'vagina' shots from last easter...
     
  11. maguire

    maguire LE Book Reviewer

    I've done worse. any hole's a goal, after all.
     
  12. You see, yet again I was completely taken in my this very cleverly written yarn but you still can't get out the habit of not paying attention to detail. Someone with a huskier voice than Rula Lenska? (Marion not your Mum)
    That's like claiming that Eric Morcambe had a hairier balloon knot than Ronnie Corbett....

    I saw Tom Baker wandering around Budgeons in Rye toay.
     
  13. Trust me, It can be quite sexy, but doesnt marry up with the 40 odd fags she burns through in a productive afternoon of gossip and coffee..
     
  14. 40 odd fags you say? Perhaps I was a little hasty. I'll read it all again....carefully
     
  15. That's the dirty scutter. I have heart felt sorrow for you.

    She really is a dirty munter, look at those fucking teeth, is it old holburn daily?