"And that was true as well.I tried to get familliar with my room. I put some of my clothes in the drawers of the dresser and got my shoes off and laid...them next to my bed, something I have been doing since I was a kid.Me and my mother talked for about two hours after I got out of my room.We sat down at the kitchen table and drank some coffee, a habit I tried to kick some years ago but never seemed to beat completely.We talked about the divorce, Christina, my sister, and what I've been up to. As she allowedhim a gasp of air, he was more frightened by the memory of his ownfantasy than he was by anything she could make him do. It seemed hismind had hit a stalemate, his fear feeding his arousal, his arousalfeeding his fear. He wanted to scream, but he wasn't sure if it would bea scream of terror or one of lust, only knowing that it would be ascream in the little girl's voice she had given him. Even the thought ofthat pitched his mind into lust once more, before the fear overtookhim.... “Get naked and come lie down on the bed,” she whispered. I did.“You can’t touch me,” she continued whispering. “But there’s nothing saying I can’t play with myself and that you can’t play with yourself.”The idea of masturbating next to her while she did the same made me immediately hard.“I have to get myself off a lot,” she said softly. “I think about you a lot when I do it. Do you remember that one night when you came to my apartment?”I did. It wasn’t a night I liked to think about. I had had. It was not so much a sexual infatuation as a confused adolescent image. As he had matured, he stopped comparing his mature mother to teenage girls - but had always remembered that this woman was the first that he considered beautiful.Again he brought the first leg back up to his rest upon his shoulder, moving the second leg back down spread widely apart so that nothing was hidden from between his mother's legs for his hungry eyes.So lost in the bliss of relaxation and pleasure, that Doris only.
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I shamelessly opened my legs further, displaying for his greedy stare my feminine treasures encased in the wet silk that clung to my shaved mound. But
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