She smiled when she saw where I was looking. "I checked them this morning. They're A-OK," her smile widened.I was surprised that my face didn't go red... I mumbled, "Ok."Amazing. I had just stared at my mother's tits without any adverse repercussions. She even seemed to take it as a mark of my love for her that I was so worried rather than a lecherous leer. I made a pact that I would endeavor to be obviously worried at least once a day, if not more. After lunch, we went upstairs to look at the. Toleration extends to allowing alcohol to be sold to foreign workers in the country, though only within their company compounds. Women are taught to read and write, at least in some harems.Of course, these facilities are not all available to all the population, but for all those who matter, the better families, they are taken for granted. A field slave might not benefit from all of them, but the medical services ensure that a slave no longer has to be put down if an over-enthusiastic owner. “Don’t worry, we’ll find something. Besides, the pool has very high walls and no one will see us.” He answered and took care of the bill by simply telling the waiter to put it on his account.We drove up the La Jolla hills and I realized that his house was not a house, it was a mansion. As we entered the atrium, “I’m here” he said loudly.From the inside of the house an older woman’s voice answered “Art and I are in the kitchen”.“Art is my Mom’s Leena, boyfriend” he informed me, now I was. After that, everyone gets to pump your sweet puss full of baby-juice. And don't worry about your precious little pussy, girl; by the time we've all had a few turns plowing that tight snatch of yours, you'll be as slack as a two-dollar whore!"He laughed and slapped me again with his big cock, harder the second time since he enjoyed seeing me flinch from the meaty weight of it. It seemed to be firming up nicely. The head was already glossy red and looked even more like a ripe fruit, ready to have.