Now my mom is not a virgin.

My mom wears a size four. Overall, she's a beautiful woman—black hair, sensual curves, long, well-groomed nails... I've seen her naked many times, but I never seriously wanted to sleep with her. Probably because I've never had problems with women. Since I was eighteen, I realized I constantly want sex. Just obsessed with it. So I set out to understand female psychology. I studied world literature, which, by the way, doesn't have that much truly useful information. Watched American movies, including ones with Mickey Rourke... I even fantasized about being a woman. That's an important point—to know your "enemy"

from the inside before conquering them. So, in principle, women had little chance of passing by my dick. However, when I jerked off, I sometimes imagined my mother, and that often really turned me on. Any man knows that fantasies should always vary, otherwise you can rub your dick to dust but never finish.

Sometimes mom gave me intense orgasms. I knew exactly what her tits and even her anus looked like. I was about five, sitting on the toilet, and she was washing the bathroom naked next to me. Right in front of me was her butt, her buttocks spread wide apart, and there was her anus. A large pinkish star... Weird, did she think I wasn't interested? My sexuality woke up extremely early; I probably couldn't even talk properly yet. Her friend Aunt Marina used to visit us in a housecoat. They stood talking, and I crawled to their feet and lay on my back. Both women wore white panties. The view was so captivating I forgot about all the toys in the world! I crawled between them, trying to decide whose thighs were prettier, my mom's or Aunt Marina's? A pleasant choice. Seems my mom won, but our neighbor's panties were thinner, so... I also constantly saw women's pussies in childhood.

In kindergarten, I had three girls—Alena, Svetik, and Ivana... They periodically showed me theirs. And only Alena asked to see mine; I did it very quickly. I was shy. Imagine, now I can show it even on a first date! Though, Ivana showed it to all the boys. So technically, I only had two girls. I also loved it when our teacher read us fairy tales. We arranged our little chairs in a square and sat down. Our teacher—Irina Fyodorovna—sat on one of these chairs. You have to understand how she hiked up her adult knees! Getting absorbed in reading, she forgot to close them. She also wore big white panties. Everyone in the USSR had those. I could watch that forever. At some point, she noticed and asked me to move aside. Later, talking to other teachers, she complained—he was looking right there! I was ashamed.

In my dreams, I undressed and dressed her when she needed it. I didn't yet understand what else you could do with a woman. There was also my aunt, my mom's younger sister. Also obsessed with sex. I was seven, she was eighteen. She lay on the bed in a short robe. Noticed I was looking at her legs. She liked it. When we were home alone, she asked—want to see? I nodded! She pulled the robe up to her panties. Her thighs drove me crazy. She smiled contentedly. "Like it?" I nodded again. "Want to touch?" Yes! She allowed it. My little hands stroked her big legs. Couldn't resist, kissed them. Felt ashamed, remembered how I kissed Ivana's feet in front of the boys. All the boys laughed then. But my aunt nodded—good! "Want to see something else?" I nodded. What else was there? She pulled her panties down. And she herself exhaled admiringly, letting me know what my reaction should be.

But I saw a whole bush of hair, didn't see the actual pussy. This puzzled me. I understood she was an adult woman, everything was different for her. Shook my head negatively, like no need. "If you don't touch it—I won't let you look or touch my legs!" She said this very sternly. I had to touch her bush. Didn't understand what the thrill was? "Show me yours." No! She said, okay, continue... Later I approached her, but she refused harshly, threatened to cut out my tongue if I told my mom. Then I understood you shouldn't leave a woman unsatisfied! However, that short robe of hers... Once she leaned out the window, talking to a neighbor. I threw a cube near her feet, ran up, picked it up, and peeked between her legs. She didn't seem to mind. That wasn't enough for me. I pretended I wanted to know who she was talking to, jumped on her back. But in a way that hiked up the robe. Now I could examine her panties in detail and even smell them! She didn't mind, though she understood everything. Like attracts like...

We're both obsessed with sex. My friend was lucky, he fucked her for about five years. In bed, he said, she was a bomb. Always a puddle under her ass! She flowed insanely. At some point, right after sex, she'd put her legs up against the wall. He didn't understand. He was only nineteen. Over the years, having studied women a bit, I realized she wanted to get pregnant by him. It never happened. I remember my women, they asked me to cum inside them. You see, my period just ended yesterday! I'd cum, then pregnancy. Since then, I always cum on the woman. Don't use condoms. When you pursue a woman for a long time, it's clear she's decent. Never had diseases, though, or pregnancies. So, since childhood, I've loved women and been keenly interested in them.

Some people have had sex with their mom. And in reality. I haven't. Mine is so proper... I think it would be impossible. Only if it were accepted in society. For example, from eighteen you start having sex with your mom. Daughters with their fathers. In the end, everyone's happy, everyone's satisfied, and not a single loser or sexually insecure type on the streets! Good for mom! She gets a strong dick ready to fuck her every day! Father gets a young woman's body! Society would become less inhibited and much freer. And you'd know exactly what "making love" means because your parents would do it significantly better compared to our first experience. But society isn't ready for this! Better let everyone have problems. It's not even customary to talk about it. If you have problems in your personal life—just shut up, loser! That's how we live.

I'm twenty-five. Live with mom in a house by the river. She was sick, often coughed, her work at the factory took its toll. No father. He left us when I was fifteen. Still don't understand what happened. Mom didn't want to discuss it. Sometimes Aunt Marina visits. Seems nothing changes. Found some box in the basement. Real junk in it. Soviet money! A lot! Something else. Some photos, a crystal ashtray... Nonsense. Sitting on the shore examining it. Mom approaches, coughs into a handkerchief.

— Wow! What did you find?! — she exclaims.

— You tell me... The Union collapsed about twenty-five years ago... — I pulled out something resembling a star. — Is this a badge?! What boy is on it?

— Lenin. Little. I mean, that's how he was as a child. These were pinned on all students when they were accepted as Little Octobrists.

— Little Octobrists... And then they pinned the adult Lenin?

— They hung ties. Those are Pioneers.

— Yeah, yeah... Then, Komsomol members... Why did you keep all this? So much money!

— It's for a movie, remember? They wanted to film about Soviet times. So I gathered what I could at the market...

— But the movie wasn't made.

— No. But who knows, maybe it'll still come in handy. They still film about that time.

I pulled something unclear from the box. About the size of a lighter.

— And what's this?

— Olya! — came from somewhere to the side.

Aunt Marina was waving her hand.

— Hi Sasha!

— Hello, Aunt Marin...

— What's up? — mom asked her.

— Have you talked to Alexeich yet?

— Ah... — mom moved towards her. — Well, let's go together.

I sat alone, examining the strange lighter. Show young people things from Soviet times now—they'd never understand what it is! On this lighter, the numbers "1985". Weird, like... they're glowing... As if there's a tiny monitor. That can't be! Though, this thing doesn't necessarily have to be from those times! A button, quite mechanical. Pressed it. Something subtly changed around, even the air... My body shuddered. Earthquake? I looked around. Seems everything's the same, but... My house... became newer and at the same time... different. Roof covered with slate? What the hell slate? A smell of smoke and something unpleasant from somewhere. In the background, an abandoned factory... Now not abandoned at all! Smoke billowing from the chimneys. Is that the acrid smell? Girls approached me. Looked about twenty. Looking at me strangely.

— Where did you appear from here? — one with black hair asked.

I wanted to ask them the same. Why are strangers walking in my house's yard. By the way, where did the fence around the house go? Did I drink something?

— Are you okay? — the girl with white hair asked.

— Yeah... I don't know... — I shyly averted my gaze.

— So... where did you appear from?

— What do you mean... appeared? I've been sitting here for a while... And who are you?

— How long? You weren't here! — the brunette became stern.

— That's fine... — I rubbed my face. — Girls, who are you? What are you doing here?

— I live here! — the brunette said indignantly.

— Where here? In this village?

— In this house! — she pointed at my house.

I coughed. The further, the worse. Wait, did I go for a walk without noticing and then just sat by the river? No... This is my house, my street, and that abandoned factory... Everything seems mine, but...

— Funny... but I also live in this house...

— In my house?! — the brunette crossed her arms over her chest.

I approached the girls and pointed at my house.

— This house is yours?

— I've lived in it for twenty years! — she looked at me like I was crazy.

— And I'm twenty-five... — I said quietly, probably they didn't hear.

— You're probably not feeling well? — the blonde smiled. — Do you have a hangover?

— I drank yesterday, but... not that much... Not enough to just give away my house... even to a cute girl...

— What?! — the brunette's eyes flashed.

— What's your name? — seems the blonde was flirting with me.

Well, that's normal. Girls like me. But first, I need to understand what's happening to me?

— I'm Sasha... Hmm...

— I'm Marina, and she's Olga, — the blonde smiled wider.

— Why did you tell him my name?! — the brunette hit her on the arm.

— Marina and Olga... I see... Did my mom send you? Or Aunt Marina?

Marina laughed. Olga nudged her. I looked carefully at Olga. Damn! This can't be! This is my mother, only... young! And the blonde... the spitting image of Aunt Marina!

— So girls, — I felt a chill in my lower abdomen. — Now I'll ask you a very serious question... Please answer honestly... What year is it?

Marina kept laughing, Olga looked sympathetically. Probably how a mother should look at her son.

— Eighty-five! — Marina answered anyway.

— I thought so... — all this of course seemed like a joke, but... how could they quickly restore the factory?! I jumped back in time about thirty years. Everything here is really different!

— And you probably arrived to us from the future?! — Marina spoke mysteriously. — Is this a shock for you?! You didn't know where you'd end up?! — and again she laughs.

— Ugh! — Olga shook her head. — We shouldn't have watched that sci-fi movie with you!

— Well, look at him! Even his clothes are different!

— Maybe call an ambulance? — my mom sincerely wanted to help.

— No... Seems I understand what's going on, — I looked at the lighter. Different information now. Figure it out later.

— Hangover? — Marina nodded cheerfully.

— It's cool that you're so cheerful, Marina! — I looked around. — Where will I sleep now? If my house is occupied by the lovely Olga...

— It's my house! Well, my parents'...

— I take it Andrey and Masha?

— How do you know my parents?!

— Well, I'm... from the future, — I sighed, shaking my head. Damn! How do I get out of here now?! — Anyway... dear ladies... I just decided to spend some time in nature... Look at the river.

— You probably need a room? — Marina asked. — We rent out our room.

— Ah... that's wonderful. I need a room! Olga probably won't let me in...

— Of course not! — my mom snorted. — My dad, if he sees this scene...

— Well, I can imagine... So, Marina... Show me your mansion! — I moved towards the neighboring house.

— Wait! What about the box you left?!

— What box? — I turned around. The very box that started it all lay on the shore. — Ah... yeah, there's all sorts of nonsense...

— There's a pile of money!

— What money?! These scraps?!

— You call money scraps?! Yes, half the box is filled with money! Mister, you probably haven't come to your senses yet!

This started to irritate me. Why are they fixated on the box?! What money?!

— Ah... well, yeah... I see... — I think I started to grasp it. — This is the Soviet Union and all that... Here... rubles... that's money... I mean, what other money could there be here?!

I picked up the box. The girls peered into it, stunned.

— Yeah, here... probably a million! — Marina's eyes widened. — Who are you?! A ministry brat?!

— No... Well... Yes... So, this money is in circulation here?

— Let me still call an ambulance, — Olga examined me sympathetically and curiously.

— Don't! I'm fine! Or will be very soon... So, Marina, how much is your room rent?

— Thirty rubles a month.

I rummaged in the box. There really was a pile of money. Found a five-ruble note, then a fifty-ruble one.

— Here, take fifty, — I watched her carefully. Would she really take it? Is this really money?

— But I don't have change...

__P_ST