I live alone withmy sissy son and milk him once a month or so -purely for health reasons.The following is how one such event took place.Me: I almost f...rgot. Today is your milking day, isn't it?Him: Yes mommy. It's been over a month. I was worried you forgot about-Me: Of course not. Now why don't you go get ready? (It had slipped mymind. Oops!)My son always gets excited for these rare events. But who wouldn't? Heis well trained and knows what to do. He normally wears a thong orbikini bottom over. I dropped my eyes to Taylor's worn underwear and I was not disappointed. I could see the outline of his big nuts resting on the couch with his thick cock on top of them. The big bulge looked delicious. Damn! He is so sexy! As I was memorizing the way his underwear fit his package I noticed that the elastic of his leg holes had stretched out leaving a nice gap between his underwear and his mound of meat. I couldn't see inside his shorts from where I sat so I leaned way over as quiet as I could. Was it a trap? If so, who was laying it, bandits or the Will of Mohammed sect? One thing was for sure; he had to check it out. Back at his hotel he quickly packed a flashlight, some food, a full canteen, his research notes and his grand- dad’s old Army revolver. He didn’t want to be caught unarmed in case it was an ambush. If he left now, he could make it to the rendezvous point an hour early and just maybe get the drop on whoever might be planning to way lay him. As he made his way. " Starvation and penury are terrible. Hunger makes men, makes people, men and women, do strange things." But won't you help me, perhaps just my mother's clothes and jewelry. I know her property became my father's when they wed." Oh course. Stand up, please and take off your jacket."She stood, looking puzzled, and wiggled it off, showing that she wore a set of small but tightly laced stays, just a waist-pincher beneath her pleated blouse. Her form was perfect, fine straight back and handsome.