I feel your hands pushing gently on the top of my head, guiding me to your utopia. I hook my fingers into the band of your panties and pull them down ...o your ankles, my mouth finding the sweet valley of desire and my tongue starting to explore the honey scented richness of your flower of love. Your legs fully parted, you pull my head towards you in your passion. Your moans of desire fill my ears as my tongue penetrates you, licking the soft walls of your vagina. Moving up your vulva, I apply. " You look so young..." Edmond was not my son, but my stepson, the son of my husband by his first wife, who died," Ah! So Edmond Fauville—" muttered the Prefect, without finishing his sentence.In two minutes the whole situation had changed. In the eyes of the magistrates, Mme. Fauville was no longer the widow and mother who must on no account be attacked. She had suddenly become a woman whom circumstances compelled them to cross-examine. However prejudiced they might be in her favour, however. More

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