I want to hear every single one of those sounds coming out of your mouth..."Her hips begin to move subconsciously with his rhythm."Stop this... Matthe..., you can't be doing this! You can't just touch me like that..." I can't? Then how I am able to," he whispers back.He bites his lip as he continues to rub his mother's cunt. Suddenly, he stops, keeping his hand there."Go sit on top of the washing machine," he demands."No... You can't tell me to do anything, Matthew." Yes, I can. If you want dad. " Touching your face, hair, neck, I murmur, "I didn't either." I lean in to kiss your nose. "You're much prettier than I imagined." We are both blushing. Turning away, taking my hand, you begin to run to the water line. Our sandals are left on the beach. We are fast-walking through the cold surf, wetting the hem of my white cotton dress, your pretty flowered dress. You playfully lift mine to mid-thighs, splash my legs with your foot, then start running up the beach. Momentarily behind, I catch. More

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