She loved me still, even after I told her while crying in shame. She hugged me and told me it changed nothing. I was still her daughter. Being gay mad... little difference.No one stirred my lusts like my mother. Whenever she wore anything that enhanced her already enticing figure I grew so wet. I wanted her, all of her. I wanted to kiss her sweet lips. I wanted to squeeze, hold, kiss and suck her delightful breasts. I wanted to fondle and grope all over her sleek butt, and I wished so deeply to. I let my hair down, sprayed myself with some vanilla scent, and decided to go through my bedroom looking for movies.As i tossed the bedsheets around the room, looking for a film with substance, i heard a tap on the window. I turned around and froze, still holding the bedsheet. He was there. Outside my window. Standing on my balcony. My body shook a little with fear, but in a good way.I ounced towards the window, slowly. I stood before the glass, running my finger across it, as he put his finger. More

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