"Yes sir, I'm sorry to keep you waiting," he said offering his hand, ahint of his southern upbringing apparent for just a fleeting moment inwhat was a... otherwise hidden accent.Greyson rose from his chair with surprising agility and took Sawyerhand in his."No, no, I wasn't waiting at all. I escaped from my studio upstairs,"he said gesturing to the ceiling, "to come down for a drink before ourdinner."Sawyer saw a half-drunk glass of red wine on the table."Please, sit. I'll have Dominic come get. ”“Well, there must be something on your mind. Come on spill the beans, tell mummy or she won't wank this off anymore,” Jean giggled and tugged her son's semi-hard cock.“You remember me telling you about Becky, she's in my year at college. Well, we've been sort of seeing each other.”Jean could feel a familiar itch in her groin. She had wanted to hear her son talk of a girlfriend. Maybe it was a form of voyeurism, the thought of the cock that so often now slid inside her cunt, sliding in a tight. More

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