Her mother cried as if she had been dead and come back from the tomb the first weekend that she stayed and slept in her old room in almost five years....Her mother was forty eight years old, but looked older; her life had been empty devoid of love and intimacy for much of her existence, and had taken its toll. Her aging wasn't so much physical as spiritual; she retained much of her physical beauty, but loneliness was slowly withering her. Oh, she went out with her old time friends to eat or for. I was getting plenty; that wasn't the problem, but this was prime pussy, and it might be cherry too. So I went to my history class and then ducked out and there she was unlocking her hot little car. I imagined her bare. I stepped up behind her and captured her big, luscious breasts with both hands. She squealed and twisted away. They were firm, just as I had imagined. "Patience, hound. Get in and let me see it, see what I'm going to get." I got in the car and whipped it out proudly.She stared. More

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