He took my chubby arm in hishand and led me up the street.***The chip shop was a grotty little thing on a back street.There was a fat Italian woman in...ide who grinned as her husband led mein. "Samantha! Is that you!" Yeah," I said, feeling like a traitor to myself, "It's me." "Are youback with us to work here?" I looked round at the dingy little shop, atthe oily vats where they cooked the chips. Was this really my onlyoption? To take on Samantha Gardener's job? To live in her flat? Tosleep in. But he had made his choice and it was time to pay the piper.A little while later found me on his front steps ringing the doorbell of his colonial style house. I rang again when no one answered and I was about to turn and leave when the door opened a crack though I couldn’t see anyone.“Who is it?” I heard a female voice ask.“Yes hello. My name’s Bryan Ohrffs and I was hoping to speak with Mr. or Mrs. Weinstein if they’re available” I replied.In response I heard a squeal after which the door. He knows that his mommy will take a far more active role in orally pleasing him, but the words won’t form so he resorts to shaking his head. She leads forward until her lips brush the head of his cock, then moistens them with a very wet tongue, which catches him too, leaving a slippery trace across his eye. He breathes slowly trying to control his anticipation, but mommy is determined to excite him and without any warning, slides him straight into the depths of the hot wet cavern that is her. She was so proud to have serviced twenty-four men innot even as many minutes. She was so happy and talented.And as the last man left the gallery, I stood up and walked over to herass. I slapped it lightly, but it made a loud cracking sound. "You aresuch a hot fucking piece of ass you know that Violet." She was speechlessin her ecstasy. I walked around to her face. I kissed her on her cheek,leaving a little red kiss print. When I pulled away, she looked up, and Ifelt it, the cum on my lips. I.