. perhaps it meant more, because it came from her son.My hands reached around and began to fumble with the three clasps holding the black brassiere to...ether. No matter how many times I had done this with prior conquests, I hate the fucking things.Mother, to my great pleasure, did not laugh at my adolescent fumbling, and just stared at me through the mirror, sitting upright, with hands flat upon the top of the table before her."Do you want me to stop mother?" She did not say a word, and just. As we came up for air I whispered into his ear, "it's showtime..". With a smile I wriggled backwards until my knees were by his feet and I was only about a foot away from the bars, my feet slightly sticking out through them. Still holding Tom's prick in my hand I leaned back and in an instant the hands were upon me, reaching in and touching. With my eyes fixed on Tom's and a very naughty smile on my face, I slowly bent forward until my lips were inches away from the dripping head of his cock.. More

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