Indian Lovers In Fist Night

But that stopped when Jimmy died. I missed and wanted sex but I didn’t want to get involved with anyone and I didn’t feel comfortable picking up strangers at a bar. It didn’t seem right. How’s that for irony. The thought that my son could possibly help me with this problem had never accrued to me . . . . . . But now it intrigued me greatly. It did more than intrigue me…It set me on fire. I was feeling slutty, nasty, and desirable all at once. Like I felt when Jimmy and I did our little role playing. Something I hadn’t felt in some time. I was getting ready… …for sex. I was fixing myself up just as I had for Jimmy. I was getting Slutty.… …for my son. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. I had no doubt that Brian would show up at my door. I think I was safe in saying that he’d loved what I’d done to him. I didn’t know what I was going to say to him when I saw him. Maybe I wouldn’t have to SAY anything. I wasn’t sure if I would be his immoral but willing Mom. . . . . . His. He'd get the feeling of satisfaction from letting me know who was boss and I'd get to feel like a dirty little cum slut. The whole idea of it was really beginning to get my ass to quivering. When he finally rammed his thick, tool into my ass, I played it for all it was worth and gave out a yell. He seemed to like that lots and he roughly began pounding my butt. I let him go until I felt his hold on my shoulder loosen and then I pushed him back and off me. He tripped me and I fell face-down onto the floor. I got up onto my knees and he grabbed me by the hair. "You're a slutty little lady boy, aren't you?" I could feel my cock getting even harder. He slapped my face with his penis and yelled at me, pulling harder on my hair. I blurted out "Yes! I'm a slutty little lady boy!" "You're my little bitch boy, aren't you?" I tried to raise up but he pushed me back down by my shoulders and grabbed my hair again. He slapped me a few more times with his cock. "You're my little bitch. Suck.
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