’ ‘Greta!’ I exclaimed. ‘I don’t want to go anywhere near that butch female.’ ‘Now, now my boy,’ father said patronisingly, ‘your mo...her knows best what’s good for you.’ He hesitated and then turning to mother said, ‘I don’t see how sending him to Greta will prove more economical than the doctor.’ ‘Garage, clean, serve petrol, oil change, work for his keep.’ ‘Aha,’ father said, looking positively cheerful. ‘We could save a considerable sum if he went to Greta on a working holiday. We wouldn’t. But I'd just love having you both like this."As my son was telling me how he wants to continue having sex with me, I began feeling like I was getting closer and closer to an orgasm. I always love that approaching wave of ecstasy, the way it just sweeps over me, covering me from head to toe as my body shakes and convulses under the power of release of my pent-up sexual energy."Mmm, mmm, oh, Ben, Ben, I'm cumming, oh, you've made me cum, I'm so happy, uhh, UHH, UHH, UHH, UNH, UNH, UH, uh, uh,. ...! The faintest murmur. Little more than athrumming susurration; borne upon the stagnant, foetid air. Sensedrather than heard, and hardly sufficient to be classed as a 'Noise;'but it broke the thick black silence, and brought an end to his totalisolation. His ears were tuned to the finest pitch, as they strove toidentify the sound........Footsteps! - Animal; or Human? Yes! A shodfoot with firm and regular steps; slowly increasing in volume, as theycame nearer. And then - the most frightful. The document you signed required your name, address, age and a picture of your face. Weirdly, you had to describe your appearance beneath it. You wrote that you had long, wavy brown hair and a fairly average look about you. Nothing shouted 'sexy' or 'cute', but you were nevertheless comfortable with your appearance. The only issue you had with your face was the lack of facial hair and overall softness to your face. It had stuck with you since you were a kid, often getting bullied by your.