I was stroking Scott’s cock. I could feel how thick, big, and hard it was. I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t, and then Scott’s dirty talk was exc...ting me even more. “Tell me, Mom. Do you like your son’s young cock, and him fucking your pussy with this beautiful pink dildo?” Scott asked. My eyes were closed, but I could see my hand wrapped around Scott’s huge cock, and my dildo in my pussy. “Yes,” I moaned. “You are so hot, Mom,” Scott said, “You have such beautiful boobs, the moment I saw you. "So you are some kind of pied piper, gathering girls from all grades in the school and they follow you around like puppy dogs. Yet you say that you have some strong feelings toward my daughter, but what feelings?" Mrs. Carter, I like your daughter very much. But we connect on a different level than I do with most of the other girls. Sam and I connect mentally, more so than physically or emotionally. But that's not to say that I don't in some ways love your daughter. It is so very hard trying to. His wife madetortillas - flour and corn - in the store for sale, and according to theold-timers in Mendoza, they were incredible. His son had parlayed thatsideline into a tortilla factory, shipping a mass-produced version ofhis mother's recipe all over the West Coast. I hadn't seen Ricardo sincehigh school, but I knew he had been sent to study business back east asa prelude to joining his father in the business.But it wasn't Ricardo who caught my eye; it was the woman he was with.She was. "Charley," she said in a soothing voice as she faced me with complete confidence. "You know this is the right thing. Plus," she said, and then she shocked me by reaching down between my legs with her free hand. She stuck out her middle finger and lightly scratched the underside of my balls with her long manicured fingernail. I shivered. "I think deep down inside you like it," she said in a gentle, cooing feminine voice as she smiled at me.There was something about her that I couldn't say.