He nearly had to cry at school when I called bedwetters thosenames. He insisted that it was not his fault. I didn't know what to do orsay. He was my b...st friend and yet he wet his bed. It explained why henever invited me on sleepovers. I wanted to say I was sorry. But he wouldnot believe it. What I said at school was what I believed in.I went home. Mom was standing ready to go out. She looked stressed. Iasked her where she was going. She said she had to work every night for awhile and she could. I let myself slip out and lifted her off her knees, settling her into my lap and encircling her in my arms. I cradled her head gently, then lifted her face and began to clean it, running my tongue and lips over the splashes and smears of cum. As I worked gently down one cheek I tasted a saltier trickle and looked up to see her eyes overflowing with tears.'That was terrible for you, wasn't it?''No. The worst blow job I ever had was wonderful, and that certainly wasn't the worst.''But I got it. More

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