Poor Child Memories

Hi Mehdi, I am XNUMX years old and this memoir that I want to write today is something that many people like me who are not rich children and children are down in the city and a few people live in a small house. Which was next to the garage of the house where we lived, which had a room with a dishwasher and XNUMX cabinets and a corridor and a cold and scary bathroom, and we lived there until I was XNUMX. And he's still afraid of my dad. In short, we all slept together in the same room, and when I realized my left and right hands, I noticed my dad's noises in the middle of the night. Ugliness is thrown at my mother during sex, for example, how tight is this ass of Venus? Who wants to give me some water? And I was talking to my friends about Kir and Kass and things like that and new trends I had found women, for example, I looked at my lady's body, I could see my aunt's buttocks and legs and breasts, I could see the soles of my feet from under my skirt, but my back was still not straight and I was more curious to discover the difference between men and women. Tendencies arose in me and I would sleep well at night to see if my father would go to my mother. If he left, I would listen quietly. I used to fall in love with hearing their own voice. Sometimes I would fall asleep. Sometimes my father would go to work at night. I would listen to their voices. He used to say a lot of ugly things, which of course made me very happy now, and although I love my mother very much and I have no sexual desire for her, but I loved the time when my father used to do it. He used to tell my father, Dato listens and my dad tells me to shut up. I was waiting, I heard my mom and dad swear not to, after a while we left the garage and wrote