She took a sip from the glass and then spread her ass once more.I took off my clothes and my mother looked at me. "God! I am lying here naked and you ...re not even hard. What kinda man are you?.I didn't say anything but sat on the carpet next to where my mother's ass rested on the couch. Then i glued my lips to my mother's anus and flicked my tongue which almost entered her."Mom. You know the rules" I reminded her."Yea yeah yeah! We can't fuck. I know." she said clenching her hips and. "Yes... but sometime back. Wasn't she the one who wrote about women's fantasies?" Not to be denied long, she reached for and tweaked her own nipple, pulling it up and rolling it between her thumb and forefinger."The same," I replied. "Did you read the story -- or was it a recount of a fantasy? -- about the woman, a mother as I recall, who was wearing a long white dress and who went walking with her son one day?"Now pulling on both her nipples, Martina complained, "What're we doing? Are we. Certainly, I didn’t make a habit of going out and… well, you’ll see…. Okay, that’s a lie. I was a wild thing back then. I lost count of how many nameless, faceless partners I had between the age of 16 and 19. I don’t regret a single one of them and, was I to do it over again, I would. Oh, yeah, baby, I so would. O.o I didn’t protest when my panties were removed. My tongue was too busy in her mouth to speak, my hands too busy underneath her top, lifting it to reveal a black lace bra. For the. A mating call? I turned and saw her walking away, her unhurried pace unchanged, her quiet gaze jumping from the store windows to the traffic to the people who passed her by.A little boy and his granny having an argument about a toy the old woman couldn't afford captured the Indian girl's attention. She went up to them and exchanged a few words with the boy's granny. The old woman's frown grew more intense and the boy cried out ever louder. Then his granny ceased to shake her snow-white head.