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‘Ohhh, suck them some more baby,’ she pleaded, ‘Suck me again, please!’ But John was no novice lover. He ignored her pleading and changed course, knowing that only be doing so would he bring Amy to the highest of sexual heights. And so John utilized the feather in other, less sensitive places — her back, her shoulders, her arms and wrists and the palms of her hands, measuring at each stop this delightful young woman’s reactions. Amy’s eyes were screwed tightly shut and her mouth hung open, gasping for air. Her body was now fully flushed with her arousal. ‘Please,’ she whimpered, ‘No more. PLEASE!’ He ignored her pleadings and continued using the feather, stroking her neck and ears. Then noted his own erection had manifested itself, the pre-cum oozing forth in rivulets that almost covered the head of his cock. Amy was totally confused. She wanted him IN her! She needed him IN her! Yet she listed and rolled and swayed this way and that in an attempt to anticipate the movement of the. I was stunned. Both by watching my son sexually pleasure himself, but also by the size of his penis. I know his hands are much larger than mine and it looked like he could fit both of his on top of one another and still the tip would be visible.He didn’t see me because his eyes were closed and I was about to turn around and leave when I heard him moan 'mom.' I thought he caught me and things were about to get really awkward, but then he continued, "that’s it, mommy. Suck and fuck my big cock."I was floored, but also aroused and could feel my pussy get wetter and throb gently. I thought he was thinking about some girl at school, but there he was, thinking about me, his own mother, in ways that no son should. He wanted me to fuck him; to get naked and have sex with him.I immediately left and went to my room. Locking the door behind me, I lay on my bed thinking about what I had just seen. The more I thought about it, the wetter and hornier I became. I slipped my hand down my yoga pants.
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Reaching the station and getting a ticket for my ride home every day, had soon palled and had become a somewhat blasé ritual. Today the difference was that, a few feet in front of me stood a very attractive boy. He was slim and of medium height with a fresh looking face devoid of any trace of moustache or beard. He was dressed in a rather tight tee shirt that showed a shapely chest and a flat stomach. A clinging pair of jeans covered his lower body but unlike many of the other young men in the queue he was not wearing the modern low hip kind that exposed the top of his buns but hid the rest of the bottom in sagging folds. His jeans were pulled up to the correct level at the waist and delineated the shape of his neat backside ensuring it was clearly visible. And it was a neat bum that he carried; it swelled in a tight and compact bulge from the top of his legs, not large and heavy, but just of the right size to nestle comfortably in someone’s hands. As we slowly moved forward to the.

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