I moved my hand down the small of her toned back and began rubbing her ass through the little skirt she was wearing and she didnt seem to notice. I ha... no idea what I was doing and neither did she. It just felt right. You are poking me she whispered. I said what are you talking about knowing full well that she was talking about the raging hard on poking her belly button. She reached down and lightly grabbed my dick through the thin material of my gym shorts (it was the 80s) and whispered what. This story starts from 30 odd years later.One day I was driving from Manchester to London and I decided to stop off in Birmingham, where I was born. Once there I remembered an old friend’s mother called Jean and I knew that all her k**s had flown the roost so there was a good chance she would be on her own. Back in my old days I went to the same school as her younger son and we became best mates. Quite often I would sleep on their sofa as the number 11 bus route used to stop at 11pm and it was. More

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