“Why do you think that?” I asked when her tears had subsided.“I... I missed a period. Or I think I did,” she mumbled tearfully. “And now I�...m late for the next one.”“How late?”“A week.”“Oh Izzy!”I murmured over and over as my twenty-year-old daughter sobbed into my flat chest again. In her current state, there was nothing to do but stand there, holding and hugging her until she had calmed down and a more coherent conversation could be had.After a long time, Izzy’s tears slowed. I made us both. When Joe went to work,so did I. On myself. And I lost count of how many different items I inserted inside myself while I brought myself to orgasm.There were bottles,there were deodourant cans which were a perfect shape ,no coincidence I'm sure,a brush,an electric toothbrush that gave me more orgasms than any man ever did or ever would.And even Joe a few times.I would always play with myself as he thrust in and out,in and out.Good lord he seemed to go on forever sometimes,most womens heaven,but. More

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