Xvideos gay dad and son
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When I was in first grade, after I’d run around the block without his permission, he spanked me so hard he swore, with a smirk, that he saw sparks. Roughness wasn’t only play it was punishment, too. I flailed at his arm, trying to communicate I can’t breathe under here! But even if I’d been able to speak, I don’t think he’d have heard me over his laughter. Once, he threw me onto the couch and held me under a pillow for so long I saw fireworks. Sometimes she came to the top of the stairs, crying. As the pressure built, we’d holler at the top of our lungs for her, the game no longer so fun. The force of his mass would mash us against the carpet, giving us rug burn, knocking the wind from our lungs.įorget screaming“uncle”: with us trapped under his knees, Dad commanded we beg our mother for help. The Steamroller! Instead of pinning us, Dad would roll his whole body across ours, back and forth, again and again, the only time I recall touching parts of him like his thighs or his back or his hair. Later, the bruises formed constellations around our nipples. Then the claw would rain upon him, and I’d be at Dad’s back, trying futilely to rescue my wailing brother. “No, Dad, no!” I screamed while my brother, tenacious as fuck, pummeled him from behind till Dad swatted him onto his ass. The Claw! With fingers splayed, he grabbed my chest, digging into the flesh as if he could rip out the heart, still beating. My mom, dishes done, passing us on her way up the stairs, would chastise him. I was sure my insides were going to come out of my mouth or into my pants. The Scissors! Lying on his side with me between his thighs, he squeezed downward, crushing me in the middle. My dad, on his knees in sweats, gigantic mitts at his side, had a variety of assaults, which he would announce with monstrous growls. Swarm, then clasp our tiny bodies to his great one, hoping to drag him to the ground with our weight. In our corner at the foot of the steps, my brother and I would huddle, ready to rush him. But occasionally, according to some calendar our childish minds couldn’t fathom, he agreed, and we’d take up position in the living room. Most evenings he said no, choosing instead to do push-ups and sit-ups or, more often than not, watch the news. My family ate dinner early, and when I was about 8 and my brother 4, we would beg Dad to wrestle after we cleared our plates.
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Hugs were scarce, and cuddles not an option for “big boys.” When I was a child, it seemed my dad only touched to hurt. (I used to live there, so I know the situation.) The oldest and youngest have said multiple times they wished they lived with me, while I try to explain to them that they can’t be too picky about food.Brian Gresko | Longreads | June 2018 | 14 minutes (3,488 words) I hate reading how the kids are hungry and ignored, and waiting for the week to finish so they can come back to their father.
#Xvideos gay dad and son full#
While I disagree-because he can talk to the mother, and offer help-if she isn’t getting the mental health treatment she needs, and needs more time off, then my brother should have full custody. I have spoken to my brother about this, and he says there is nothing he can do. I am frustrated because they constantly text me that they are hungry I know they are picky, but their mom has a “there’s food right there” attitude. She doesn’t feed the children-while they aren’t babies anymore, they aren’t teens either. While I am just the aunt, I worry for the children’s wellbeing, as their mother is chronically depressed (treatment with no therapy, for as long as I’ve known, more than 10 years). Worried aunt: My brother is divorced, for two years now, they have 50/50 custody. He constantly makes me feel lesser than and stupid. He does things that upset me and when I call him out, he acts like I’m causing a scene and being a “crazy and annoying girlfriend.” He treats me like a child, when I am in fact two years older AND I pay for everything (he makes more money than I do, by the way) and constantly cater to him.
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He even does this in front of his friends. He turns everything into an argument and then twists it on me like it’s my fault. We also can’t talk about anything-I love to converse and debate about things for fun, and I also believe in talking out our feelings and compromising to have a healthy relationship. I mean, I’ve got nothing on these other women. I don’t know how he expects me to be perfectly okay after cheating on me and making me feel worthless. We argue because he’s emotionally distant, and after being cheated on multiple times, I need a lot of reassurance from him.
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Apparently I stress him out and we argue too much.