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She had made no move to pull down her skirt, which was now at a shockingly risque level. I guess I hadn't learned my lesson from the night before, because I impulsively bent my head to kiss Mom's bare knee. She put one hand on the top of my head, but she made no effort to push me away. Rather it seemed like encouragement. Thrilled to the core, I began to kiss her thigh, gradually moving higher. The skin was so delightfully smooth, soft but firm. I moved my right hand down to her thigh and continued to kiss it. Soon my hand was well up her leg--in fact, grasping her ass cheek. By this time my mouth was kissing and almost licking right up to her very high hemline, and in fact pushing that hemline even higher. I was in heaven! Those thighs had been the source of many hours of fantasy. I loved the way she showed them off, and I could have stared forever at the glorious beauty. To kiss them had seemed an incredible dream. And now..."Honey," Mom said softly, taking my face in both hands. She heard him release a breath. One hand slid up her neck, making her flinch away. His hand hesitated, then reached the ponytail holding her dark, wavy hair. My wife was like you when she was in high school: always quiet, unassuming, his other hand slid down her forearm, but absolutely lovely. She wanted to run, to get up and leave without turning back. She couldnt do this. No matter how much she seemed to want it. No, she just couldnt. It wasnt right… Mr. Smith pulled the band out of her hair, letting the black locks fall around her shoulders. Her breathing was erratic. Her heart was ready to explode. This isnt right, this isnt right, this isnt right. But her body did nothing to stop him. Taylor, his voice was smooth and almost tired-sounding. Stand up. Fearing the worst, she slowly stood, but her legs threatened to give out beneath her. Turn around. She closed her eyes hard. Opening them, she turned around. Mr. Smith was half-seated on one of the desks. One leg was rested on a.
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