I pulled away gently, and sat down next to her, our thighs touching. She leaned into me and I put one arm around her shoulder while I stroked her wet ...heeks with the other hand. We sat there crying together, mother and son, she weeping uncontrollably, me sniffling. Both of her hands were in my lap, one bracing against my cock which despite my reluctance had grown to a hardness that was intent on asking questions of the beautiful woman intruding into its territory. Every time it looked like she. Still, something seems...off.She feels far away, seemingly distracted, almost as if this wasn't whatshe was expecting, as if she was anticipating something else when youbuilt it up that didn't come to pass. There's a nebulous undertone ofconfusion in the air that contradicts her assurances.She asks you: since you've been living as completely as yourself for solong, think of yourself as just another woman and hate beingdifferentiated due to your background, then why did you decide to tellher all. More

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