Tom climbed out of his mattress and onto his feet for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours. Looking down, Tom realized they weren't his feet. He...wasn't sure whose feet they were anymore, but he knew they couldn't be his. First of all Tom normally wore an eleven. Second, Tom had a hangnail that bothered him for the past month. Third, Tom never remembered painting his toenails pink.Tom stopped into his bathroom and glanced in the mirror. Blond hair, pouty lips, big blue eyes. It suddenly. The soft morning light defines her softly curved features and pale complexion, as her dark staten hairs drapes down her shoulders. he playfully says, Good Morning Beautiful…!He sits and enjoys the sight of his sensuous women making busy around the kitchen. Seduced by her presences he stands, and hastily moves to a better vantage point surprises her with a kisses on the neck and his hands moving down her waste. She instentively teases him with a friendly nudge toward his private region. he. Funny, for six months or so it had been just me and the occasional mouse and the place felt like home. When she left, the cottage felt strangely lonely. As is typical of Upstate New York, Sunday morning dawned dull and wet. Gone was the 80? sunshine and in its place was 50? damp and fog. I really should get in the habit of consulting the weatherman before agreeing to an outdoor date. There was a fog of slumber in my head as well and it didn't seem to be clearing any faster than the fog outside.. Now this guy was smooth and his upturned cock was obscenely visible through the pant as his undies were tight. I subtly pointed it out to mom and she was horny instantly. She then took two melons in her hands and asked him “which is bigger?” with a playful smile. He was bewildered and stammered something pointing one of them. Then she went on to ask if the bigger one is too soft(!)? The guy was now nervous and sporting a Wood more prominent. Now my mom asked him to wait and said she has to.