"I wonder how many of these women were dressed by their son" she whispered as we stood at the bar waiting for our drinks, she smelled wonderful and I ...onged to kiss her neck, to nuzzle my mouth into her flesh, to taste her!"I'm wondering how many of them have got a pussy as wet as yours mum" and she giggled deliciously,We sat down at a table where we could see everyone as they came into the pub and she pressed herself against me, I felt the softness of her breas pressing into my arm and I. "chuckling again. Then it hit me, I may never return to my original body.So I would be expected by the outside world to get married and possiblybear children. The thought nearly made me want to spit out my food, butI managed to condense my disgust and outrage at the idea in a grunt,acknowledging both my internal ponderings and my host's previousstatement. Then, either curiosity or my female hormones, or both got thebetter of me."So, you're not married." The moment I said that, the inside of. Samantha’s body rises and falls with each thrust. “Faster,” she encourages.So Spencer picks up his pace with long, fast and deep strokes. But Spencer can feel her need for more. So he decides to relinquish control to her. He lowers himself and they roll over with Sam on top of him. She just as quickly sits straight up, letting her breasts bounce while she caresses her own hips to straddle him. Quickly, she finds her own rhythm—a mix of grinding and impaling down hard, riding Spencer like he is. Three of the four tiny hooks parted easily, the last took a second attempt before leaving its partner… the elastic slipping from his grasp, the sudden slackness a relief to both parties the support now loose. Their body`s still close, his arms around her and the shoulder straps supporting the pink slings, the breast remained covered, he eased back and held the cups in place, suddenly realising at last he had his hands on these long dreamt of treasures, a woman`s breasts, and not just any woman,.