“How?”“Four.” She moans, wriggling in my lap. “I was playing without permission.”“Playing? With what?”“With my pussy!” She braces ...erself.Smack!“With what?!” I ask again.“Five!” She winces. “With Master’s pussy.”“That’s right. Kitten needs to ask for Master’s permission before she touches HIS pussy. You understand?”“Yes, sir.”“Good, keep counting.”Smack.“Six.” She groans as I am sliding my hand up under her to squeeze her left breast. Pinching and pulling at her nipple. She rolls over to her. Slowly and steadily I started playing pranks on mom and posing as if I am doing innocent mischief. So now mom cuddled with me like a c***d and I used to enjoy that. Once I made a bold move to grab her boobs by mistake but she ignored knowingly. Me and my brother became happy knowing that she is liking the touch of a man rather than her son. Just to confirm I made another bold move.In diwali mom used to wear saree everyday and we used to stare at the navel, belly button and her curves. She was. More

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