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Even my wife looked at him quite strangely. We always had great sex at least we thought that we had great sex but we never tried positions. I know it as I have some knowledge about blue films but we never watched all our life.I said ‘What?’ panting heavily.He said ‘you exchange positions’.I stopped pumping my wife’s pussy and looked at him. my wife’s pussy was squeezing my dick as if it want to eat and I know that she is very hot.Then my son said ‘you want me show?’I looked for a moment and said ‘Okay, go ahead’ and got up from her. She also got up. He asked Shobha to get up and slept on the sofa naked his shaft standing like rod in the air. She looked at him. Then he made him to get on top of him and made her to position herself just above his good shaft which of course I am proud of. Then he said ‘Mom guide me’. To my utter surprise, she held the tool and slowly I can see my son’s dick disappear in to my wife’s hot cunt. She lowered herself on it and sat silently for a moment. I picked her up slightly. It was a kind of awkward moment where we both were looking right in each other’s eyes.I made the move and leaned forward to kiss her. She held on to it initially but after a few seconds, she dived right into it. I was smooching her passionately, licking her tongue with mine, sucking her lips.My one hand was over her waist and another one on the back of her head and I was pushing her more and more towards me, smooching her so hard that she was out of breath. She broke the kiss and said that this was her best kiss so far. I replied, “The best is yet to come” and winked.We smooched again and I pushed her a little so that she could sit on the kitchen slab. I went down and started to kiss her legs, her thighs, licking her thighs, biting them slowly, moving up to her inner thighs. I could see her pink panty which had a wet spot already.I moved her dress up exposing her panty. I licked her over her panty and she started to moan slowly biting her lips. I removed her.
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A few kids swapping cigarettes in the trash repository which served as a playground. A couple of female motorcyclists standing by their machines beneath a streetlight, chatting and smoking. He took a second look, had always been turned on by the black leather they wore. They ignored him, seemed deep in conversation. Bloody dykes! He walked through the park and along a laneway at it’s rear, emerging eventually onto the main road close to the pub which was his second home and place of business. It was crowded as usual with the scum of the docks. He bought a beer and spent the next hour trading in crack, and in the local security information which was his main livelihood – few of the dockland businesses realized the burglaries which constantly plagued them were the result of his acute observation, for Horst was an expert in his field. The two woman motorcyclists entered the far end of the bar and stayed for a time, drinking, but he failed to notice them. They cast him a casual glance.

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