She groaned and then lifted her ass upwards in order to get a better angle on her g-spot, sending her into another orgasm as Junior grunted and unloaded a series of thick, ropey strands of come deep into Heather's fertile womb. He flexed his cock and fell over her, pushing it just right into her pelvis and sending her into another orgasm, this one causing her to spasm underneath Junior in fits of ecstasy. When they had both japanese come too and Junior had untied and ungagged Heather, she slapt him in the face and then kissed him passionately, slipping her tongue into his mouth as she did. "You didn't have to rape me," Heather giggled into Junior's mouth as pov she kissed him again, "All you had to do was ask, silly." They made love 5 more times that day, 12 the next asian day, and 17 bonus fucks on the third day after Brandon Sr. called telling Heather that he and his wife had met this real nice couple and were gonna stay another night. The summer was off to a good start. Some people have asked me to write about my experiences with my mother as realistically as possible, so here goes… I’ll avoid any details which would let anyone recognize us, so I’m not going to mention the name of the city where we live, but mom lives relatively close to me since I moved back here after finishing my studies. Not within walking distance, though, so I have to take a bus since I’ve never owned a car. Our relatives and her friends only seem happy that I’m visiting her handjob more often nowadays like a son should. That hasn’t always been the case, we’ve had our problems and I started keeping distance to her as I grew up. That slowly started changing after the events I’ve described in my texts “Me and My Mother” and “Some Thoughts”, so it might be a good idea to read those first if you haven’t done so already. Keep in mind that this one uses a bit fetish more artistic freedom in the details. I also have to mention mom knows I’m writing and posting these things. Some people seemed to be worried about that, but she thinks this is OK as long as we can’t be recognized, since our experiences could help others. I always call mom before I come visit her, or she calls me. Previously it was more of the latter, but nowadays I do call her more often than before. She always asks about what I’ve been doing, sometimes a bit too inquisitively for my tastes. That was a problem when I was younger, but I think our newfound sense of closeness is a wonderful thing. The bus ride takes its time, but there’s only a short walk from the stop to my mother’s apartment. We don’t hug or anything when she opens the door, we have never been like that. We just greet each other. When and mom asks what I’ve been doing and how I’ve been feeling, my answers are reserved, although I try to be honest with them. Usually we watch TV for a while or a movie. Mom watches even action movies, but for some reason she never remembers the titles so we may end up seeing something she’s already seen before. I practically never watch movies except at her place, so it’s easy for me to find something I haven’t seen. Eventually we may lean closer, maybe kiss a little and if it feels right, then move to the bedroom. My father was a very sociable guy, and would talk to anyone and everyone. It was soon followed handjob by sadness and tears; lots of japanese tears. I obliged. I didn’t realize his father had left the kitchen. Her juices poured freely fetish from her velvety folds, feeding me. “She’s very punctual and demanding.” She kissed me back, and we sat kissing, though not as much as I’d have liked, before she broke the kiss. He watched her walk toward asian the horses, waving her middle finger back at him. After, if you drugged her, she will give you her head in the toilet. Her tongue caressed the spongy tip as pov my ecstasy peaked and died.