Out of the corner of my eye I saw some sort of rhythmic motion, also well practiced no doubt. 'He's pulling on his pecker, isn't he!', I couldn't hel... smiling a little as I saw my boy surreptitiously masturbating in the presence of his nude mother. I was both disturbed and pleased at the same time.What pleased me was not what he was doing. No, see I was body-proud for having inspired him; that's why I smirked. What disturbed me was that I didn't think that was an appropriate response for a. Thus adorned we arrived at the party. It was, as Donna said, ‘dead posh.’ She looked utterly gorgeous and I was as proud as Catherine Zeta-Jones’s mum was when the Welsh tart won an Oscar. Nellie was, well, Nellie. She looked like one of Prince Andrew’s daughters, what we call the ‘slapper Princesses.’ It was a great night although some of the speeches were a little overdone. One speaker, the rugby player’s manager, gave a long dissertation on the merits of the sport which Donna described as. More

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