Whoever ‘they’ are! I’m giving myself to you. I’m trusting you with my very being, to do with as you wish. It’s the only gesture that I can ...hink of to show you. It’s the only thing that feels right. All you have to do is love me back in equal measure by accepting my gift. My gift of me. On Sundays I iron six shirts for you and hang them up. You work five days, but like to have a spare. You look up at me from the couch and the smile, the one that nobody else gets to see, throws itself at you. Both remembered me coming over infrequently to work on a school project with Kevin. They asked about my parents and my brother. They said they couldn't wait to meet my children.Kevin's dad Anthony (no one ever called him that, though; when he was in the Army, someone started calling him "Bud" and it stuck) was a retired banker by trade, so he and I compared notes about the business. His mother was a child welfare advocate and despite all the reasons for her to be jaded and cynical at life, she. We had been sitting on the bed, but now we laid down on it. I was on my back and he was next to me, up on his elbow.He started by just stoking my hair. It felt wonderful to be petted like that. Then his fingers trailed gently along my cheek and the line of my jaw. It was sensual and sweet. The weed in my brain seemed to make everything more important, more sensual, more arousing. He was only stroking my cheek with his hand and I could already feel warmth and moisture between my legs. His head. Or maybe this was just a job requirement for him. But mom loved it.She bent down and kissed the head of his throbbing fat cock. Then sat on her knees and took half of it in her mouth. It was so fat that she had to open her mouth wide to take it in. She looked up at him with a naughty look on her face while there was just a slight smile on his face.With his hands on his hips, he stood naked like a master while mom was on her knees sucking his fat dick like a slave. It was mom’s birthday today..