1. Mirrors and Memories


    Date: 8/10/2018, Categories: First Time, Author: byDownspout, Source: Literotica

    Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror. I see signs of an aging man with tired eyes, obscured by glasses, and growing traces of gray in my beard. In these moments, I reflect on my life and I recall memories of my younger days. It's amazing how fast the mind can recall a distant memory and replay the moment as if it just happened. Then, the same ancient vision sets the mood for the day ahead. Remembering sunny days, road trips, first dates, old friends, and lovers bring on the smiles. Do you remember your first real kiss? How about the butterflies on a first date? What about the mystery and rush of your first orgasm... For me, I lost control of my body for a moment, as streams of cum shot out of my erection. Wow... What the hell just happen? That felt good! Then, there are memories of a lost family member and the realization that time is finite. These thoughts cause me look in the mirror and ask... When was the last time I was truly content. As a child, I was wide open and always getting in trouble for being too rowdy. Photos from the day show me laughing, running, and playing. I always had a smile on my face; despite the imposition of needing to hold still for the photographer. Now, I am older and I don't laugh much or show emotion. In fact, most people consider me calm and dispassionate. Obviously, I am the buzz killer when the weekend comes. I don't get drunk, party, laugh, or spend the day watching sports. I have no idea who won the World Series, and I don't know the ... rules for playing fantasy football. I am not the guy you want at the party, but I am the man you want on the job. I work hard. I am "tough as nails" leader who can't be intimidated. I don't slow down till the work is done. I am the CEO's "go-to-guy" when problems arise. I believe I am overly tenacious because of my upbringing. Life was challenging and struggles were a part of everyday life. My parents married young, and both came from dysfunctional families. They found comfort in each other, and the mutually replaced what was missing in their lives. My parents were hard workers and supportive but I had to start contributing at an early age. There were bills to pay and kids to raise. Dad worked at the sawmill on the green-chain, and mom was a short-order cook at the truck stop. I learned at an early age to mow grass and shovel snow (and horse manure) to earn my own spending money. We had food, shelter, and safety. However, money was tight in our household so it was necessary for my parents to cut corners to stretch a paycheck. Being the youngest, I wore hand-me-downs that didn't always fit just right. Clothes were often too long, too short, too tight, or grossly out of style. The bell-bottoms from the 70's weren't so cool in the 80's. I was never cool, cute, or part of the "in-crowd". Adding to the challenge, I had a learning disability. I spent hours studying to get a passing grade in most classes. I was never held back, but was always seemed to be on the brink of failure. The ...
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