Next I laid him on his back on my bed and straddled his face. “Now, baby, I am your queen and your face is my throne! Keep licking! Ahh! AHH! A...HHH! YES! OH YESSS!”With my hands thrust behind my head, I continued to ride his face. Looking up I saw reflected on the ceiling mirror a woman in the throes of her passion. Beneath me came the mumbled complaint of my son not being able to breathe.Rolling sideways and on to my back, I dragged my son’s face trapped between my thighs. With my. He would start by massaging my shoulders and back, I would turn round and just stand there offering him the soap to do my front, something he’s the past master at, he knows every line and dimple of my boobs, probably better than I do – my nipples were virtually flying off the tips whilst he was doing it.Then I would do the same to him, his very strong broad shoulders, his curvy back. Then I’d turn him round and run my fingers through his chest hair, pinching his nipples – it never ceases to. More

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