Still wanting something more personal to eat too. Sheila, could she...? Mail in hand, I knocked on the door. It was too late to stop as I heard a voic...."Oh baby! ... Fuck Momma ... Be right back."The door opened just enough to see her standing there, nothing on. She was a goddess with curves in all the right places, nice breasts and shaved crotch. Her long brown hair was disheveled like she had been fucking all night. Vibe in her hand, tip resting on what appeared to be very kissable lips. My. A few weeks later.We're at home. Kissing. I've been fondling her all over the place above the waist. And so has she. However, we're both wearing jeans. Going further smoothly entails a dexterity neither of us will master for years. Still, the hormones press on. So I manage to slide my hand inside the back of her pants, while she takes a hold of my penis through the fabric.And this is one of the very few sensations I remember *extremely* vividly (and I tend to not remember anything at all).My. More

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