"Not bad. You're being nice I know, but I'll accept that as an honest answer. Actually I'm thirty-six. So, am I younger than your mother?"Talking abou... my mother with Judy, with me sitting there almost naked and semi-erect, was just one more uncomfortable moment that Judy seemed to delight in causing. "Oh, yes ma'am," I assured her."Am I prettier that she is?"Now that was a totally unfair question. What scale of attractiveness could I use to compare my mom to this fascinating woman, eight years. She gripped the counter with white knuckles, imagining the taste of her cream filling his mouth.Slowly, she started rolling her hips, grinding against his face. Her lips slid easily over his own, and she knew she was coating his face with her juices. His tongue never stopped moving, dancing against her opening.A woman with an umbrella walked past the window, stopping for a moment to peer inside. She felt her pussy flutter, inner walls clenching, trying to seize the probing intruder and pull him. More

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