Focusing my eyes I realized it was a harmonica. Getting up off my knees I took a step or two closer, squatted down and looked at the harmonica. It was...old, obviously used a lot. Most of the metal on the harmonica had been worn smooth, everything but two initials carved into one end: WR. I simply remained squatted by the rails and stared at the harmonica, wondering what it had to do in all this. Had it been left on the rails? Was the poor guy who got hit by the train looking for it? Or did he. I tried to stay calm. Everyone was silent. I was able to hear some whispers. I wasn’t able to figure out who was stroking my cock. Soon another hand joined the action.Someone applied oil on my cock and the pace was gradually increasing. Suddenly someone planted a kiss on my forehead and then above my blindfold. From the fragrance I was able to figure out that it was my mom. Tear drops fell on my cheeks. I knew she didn’t like what she is doing yet she is doing it anyway. My hands were pulled. More

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