The bathroom is empty. The apartment is empty.I come back and find that June hasn’t moved. Good girl. She’s on her knees, facing the front door.�...Satisfied?” she asks. There’s a hint of an attitude in her voice, and it strikes the coals of my temper.“Shut up,” I hiss.She goes rigid from the command, and then I see her lower half shiver. From the front, I can see the dark mark of the bruise on her face from my slap. She tried to cover it up, but I can see it. I reach out and touch it; she winces. To laugh at my mistake, to laugh at the silly sight of the two of us sitting on the floor.We stood up, still giggling, and began to hug. Though I was wearing slacks, I could feel the wetness of Mom's pussy against my leg. My leg pulled back, instinctively, to hide the growing piece of meat which always reacted that way in the presence of a beautiful woman. For surely Mom is beautiful, always has been, ever since the day that I became able to differentiate the various reactions that a face gives. More

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