“No. He never wore it that I know of.”“Really?” Alyssa asked. “Then why was it in his dresser? I thought you would have hidden it if it were...yours.”“I never said it was mine,” Mom said.Alyssa returned with a plate and glass. She sat down, pushing the box aside so she could have her food closer. “So, if the box isn’t Dad’s and it isn’t yours, to whom does it belong?”I smiled. Alyssa had backed Mom into a corner.Mom shrugged. “I don’t know why your father kept it.”Alyssa took a bite and nodded.. She nodded yes, and reached out gingerly, and touched my dick through my shorts. I must have responded with a groan or a moan because she pulled back quickly and asked if I was ok. I could only shake my head up and down.Then she asked why I was “playing” with myself at the pond. I told her that I had to because if I didn’t it would hurt later. That’s when I asked the question and got the most surprising answer of my young teenage life. “Have you ever played with yourself?” Bren looked away and. More

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