Your breathing gets harder; you bury your face against my collar bone. My hand comes over the head and I rub your slit. You groan and bite my shoulder... You don’t draw blood but you leave bruises. Your hands find their way into my jeans, slipping into my soaked panties. You whisper in my ear: “You’re so wet.” I keep pumping your cock, veins pulsing along its length. You ease two fingers inside me and I gasp. I arch my back, my pussy clenching around your fingers. I’ll give you credit. You. She became aware of her son's bare chest pressing against her breasts, and his legs tangled with hers, and she felt an unbidden tingle of responsiveness. Recently, she'd noticed him looking at her strangely, and staring at her legs and body.At first it had amused her, and almost unconsciously she'd started to tease him, finding reasons to bend over in front of him, allowing him to see her cleavage, and crossing her legs slowly, so that he got a good look at her thighs.Then, about a week ago,. More

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