It was brought to a halt by the cord that kept his pants close to his waist. Her hand hesitated at the silly obstruction, and then began to work its o...n way past the now loosened cord towards his lower torso and into the patch of fur that lay concealed beneath.She lay her head on his flat belly while her hand played amongst the soft curls. The palm of her hand brushing across the patch, her fingers isolating some of his hairs, twisting them around and around. One finger stretched out and. I didn't mind. I could have looked at the straps holding up her nylons or, more accurately, the inner sanctity of her thighs, forever. "Pay attention, John," Mom chided, readying her hands on the keys. I did the same, though I was loathe to tear my eyes from between her legs. "Do you remember this one?" she asked. I nodded, and Mom began to play. We had to begin twice because I fumbled the keys but Mom was patient, even smiling while waiting for me to start again. It was a familiar piece, a. More

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