She was getting close to orgasm, so very close. I removed my hand. She bounced up and down on the sofa. "You want to come, don't you?" I asked... She nodded vigorously. "Tell you what," I said, "If you can hold your pee another ten minutes, I'll let you come." My hands were all over her. Rolling her nipples in my hand, moving my hand inside the slit at the crotch of her girdle, and pressing her clit through the gusset of her pantyhose. She was getting closer to orgasm. I. She knew it was wrong thinking about her son in that way but looking at his clothes and underwear made her think he was quite blessed in that department. Her son was eighteen so it wouldn’t be that taboo thinking about him in that way.Natasha went into the kitchen to fix herself a pitcher of margaritas. She figured she’d get a little tipsy and make a move on her son. She hadn’t had sex in a while and felt like being naughty with her son. She knew he wasn’t a virgin, because he always brought. More

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