Mara leaned forward and whispered, “Just Amber,” and she relaxed. The toy began another slow journey out, then in, and the pace of the thrusting m...chine increased. She was breathing deeply again, her body well on its way to that last peak. A hand, presumably Amber’s, lightly caressed her upturned ass before delivering a harsh smack. She cried out, in excitement rather than pain, feeling the burst of pain as pleasure in her current state. Another, harder swat and she nearly came, a third and she. To a small amount of people; ageing sportsmen and dedicated bibliophiles who had actually been inside, the sign (Of pealing gilt and a colour that would one day be known as “British Racing Green”.) above the door pronounced it to be “Cavendish Sporting Books”. To a tiny amount of people, who on entering the establishment knew to ask; “Perchance do you have anything on fencing?” and who were led through the stacks which smelt of athleticism gone to seed and fishing tackle not sufficiently dried. Then she started me to work on it with my fingers.I started finger fucking my mother and she kept chanting with even more aggressiveness. Then in a moment she collapsed and cum was running from her thighs. She quickly collected some and smeared it on the marble linga. Then, she told me to go to sleep as it was complete.The next morning, she was normal and we didn’t talk about it. The driver took us to sight seeing and we were home by evening. This went on for a few days while my nightly tantric. Ah, sweet dark liquid of life. He has the cure for my ills.No, he doesn't. All he will make me do is get maudilin and depressed. I'll rage against the storm, scream at the walls and have huge conversations with people that aren't even in the room. It's interesting, don't you think, that when you're having a fight with someone that's not there, imagining their responses to your responses...you always win those fights.I shake my head and try to refocus my attention on something I'm unfamiler.