Stroking a lot i came into my hand kerchief coz I had no tissue paper.Then I saw a shadow moving and I quickly put in my shorts and I saw her walking ...own the stairs. The regret then hit me. I went down for dinner. She didn’t tell me anything other a wicked smile. I just had that regret in me. I didn’t speak any anything. It continued for another week. One day I was sitting in the living room and reading newspaper and she came with her kid. And sat on the opposite couch and breastfeeding.Slowly. By the time I’d dried, with a moth-eaten piece of cloth that barely had enough terry loops left to be called a towel, my cock had gone down to about one-third mast, and as long as I didn’t think about pubic hair, as long as I didn’t flex the muscles…Mom was in bed, flat on her back, her arms outside the threadbare cover, nearly asleep, when I came back into the room. She rolled her head in my direction. “What took you so long?” she said. I must have blushed from head to foot; fortunately, the. More

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