They said the company will arrange a work permit and visa. I was happy to hear that. I wanted to tell her that I am her son.But, I was unable to conve... my love to her. I thought she might get angry with me, or she won’t accept me as her son. I saw my mom for the first time after joining the company, she was beautiful, and she looks like she is in her early 30s. She was fair, cute, and was wearing a beautiful saree.I wanted to tell her I am her son, but still, I have fear to open that secret.. Very sexy. Apparently, she liked cum as much as I did.By this time, my cock was throbbing and I was eager for release. Smooth was now unoccupied, so I moved over to her and started to fondle her big, white ass. With the bustier, and the stockings, her ass was framed perfectly. She was slightly overweight and had a real, womanly ass. I started sliding my fingers between her fleshy cheeks and it was really slippery. I asked her if that was lube and she said, "no, it's cum!" I asked if she minded. It was a stupidtradition, but we'd kept it alive since childhood, and so it had become asymbol of our unofficial brotherhood. George and I had been best friendssince second grade, so close not even the attention of girlfriends or thedistance of college had been able to separate us. It was in honor of thiseternal companionship that I was working a candle into a cupcake I'dsmuggled into the pub where we were celebrating George's twenty-fourth.The place was more than kind of dive-y, but they knew. There was always a second pile too, but this was different. It wasn’t the steepled stack of the bonfire, no. It was carefully arranged, sorted and stacked according to size and weight. This was the fuel pile, each piece to be added manually to the bonfire through the evening. I never did figure out why it was necessary. Finally, it would arrive: Burn Night. Torches made out of rags tied onto sticks were slopped with kerosene and set alight. The bonfire itself was slopped with diesel or.