Holy shit. The pictures he’d seen didn’t do her justice. She was clutching a crystal lamp in her left hand, but she didn’t catch his interest be...ause she might try to brain him with Waterford. Older now than in any of the pictures he’d seen, her reddish-brown hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, her beautiful face bare of makeup. He’d obviously scared her, the tiny pink tank top doing little to hide high, firm, round breasts, accentuated by her rapid breathing, and her matching cotton shorts. Anil climbed back on top of his mother and continued her massage. This was just what Poorva had wanted. Now she could feel her son's big cock pressing into her. It was getting her all wet, and Anil noticed. So with every forward motion of his hands on his mother's back, he would get the urge to be a little braver. He positioned his cock so that it would slide up and down the crack of her ass. He knew she could feel his member pressing into her, be she was offering no resistance. Anil had precum. More

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