” The words finally made sense to my sex addled brain. She was rocking back and forward on her knees, working herself on my now stationary cock; pus...ing back harder, pulling me deep into her.“Ahhhh my ass, my ass,” she suddenly began pleading and squeezing hard on my cock. Oh, God! She rocked herself hard, ass grinding into my hips, for a few seconds making me feel the beginning of my own orgasm pushing for release. Once again she yelled “My ass,” and pulled away making my cock slip from her. Instantly, I wondered if Id caught her looking, or if she had just reeled me in with her incredible eyes. It didn't really matter. There was nothing left to do but pursue the eyes and whatever was behind them.My place at the bar was a regular one. I was regular too. The routine was always the same; cabernet, very rare steak, baked potato, and my favorite Caesar salad. I never had to order. I just had to show up and control the pace of the meal. I was a woman of routine. The eyes that were. Hell, I fuck me wearing this. Digging through the box ofclothes, I found a pair of ruby stilettoes. Putting them on, I foundthat they fit. I tried strutting in them, they made my ass shift backand forth sexily, but my ankles kept bending. I need to practice withthese, because: damn!Putting the stilettoes away, I sat in the chair thinking. It was weirdthat it was getting harder for me to jack off. Changing the channel, Ifound one of the porn stations; the one where trannies either got fuckedby. "Mom, dad, we need to prepare you for my mother. She isn't what you would consider a normal looking mother." Patricia told her parents"We don't care if she's short or tall, of a different race. As long as she is your mother, that is all that matters," said Patricia's mom.I called my parents out of the bathroom."Jennifer could you and your parents come here, please," asked Stella."Jennifer, not Jennifer Wilkinson. You mean Helen Wilkinson is your mother?" asked Betty Stone, Stella's mom."My mom.