I used to take my transistor radio with me, and a towel and spend an hour soaking in her bath, or at least she thought I did. I would spend 20 minutes...chatting to her while she ran the bath for me, and then head off upstairs to soak. Her washy basket was much like my Mothers, Jean washed once a week, so it was always full of worn panties, stockings still attached to her many suspender belts , half slips and lovely satin soft bras (34B). The stockings were mainly RHT tan, dark tan,chocolate. "So, you do it a lot?" "Yes, without a man around, it's all I have except for the times that I go out with Aunt Louise and go clubbing. Then, well, sometimes, a man takes an interest in me." "You mean you have sex with him?" "Yes, son, I'm a real, live woman and I have desires of my own. All the time." "Mom, um, is it weird for a guy to dream about him mom, you know, like about having sex with her?" I don't think I betrayed any shock at his question but inside I felt warm all over. "It's a. More

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