I think I can talk to youfrankly, can't I?" I couldn't believe I was about to tell my mother FatimaI wanted to fuck her. She nodded her head and I we...t on. "You know, whenI was a kid, I used to fantasize a lot about you." "Most young boys do, youknow," she interjected. "Well, after awhile, it sort of melted into thebackground, but it was something I never forgot. When you came here, and Isaw how beautiful you look, well, those fantasies came flooding back in mymind. Those pictures you saw. She didn't realize she would, but she actually felt embarrassed at the restaurant since it was obvious to anyone who looked that they weren't business associates or friends.In any case, as dinner was coming to a close, she started to work on her exit plan. However, he apparently anticipated this and started coming onto her a lot stronger towards the close and especially as they were leaving. He invited her for a drink at his hotel, which happened to be a very nice hotel. Although my wife's home. Unable to contain herself, she moaned lightly. Barely audible, being drowned out by the sound of his finger against her slick folds. But it was no use. He heard. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, the finger was withdrawn, and she felt a sharp sting on her ass, followed a millisecond later by the erotic echo of a slap. She cried out at the contact. A combination of surprise and lust. The pain ran through her every bone, muscle and fibre in her body. She needed him. “What. What if she really can't hear his thoughts?" Vickie added. Quickly, the others joined the thread.Out-manned, out-maneuvered, and out-classed, I knew when to retreat, which I did, boarding the helicopter behind Izzy and Mr. Graham. Kip followed, securing the hatch as I found a seat. The interior was plush, with half a dozen beige leather chairs mounted on swivels. I quickly buckled myself in as we lifted off. The noise of the engines made conversation extremely difficult, so I settled for gazing.
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She smiled at me with pride. “You should get one too, Momma!”Barbara Jean asked me politely in a whisper “Now, does the carpet match the drapes
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