Instead however, she loosened her grip on Bob's wrist and opened her legs enough to allow him to slip his hand between her thighs.Charlie was teasing ...er nipples with his fingertips. At least his hand was still on the outside of the t-shirt. Sandy wasn't sure she could remain in control if his hand were to find its way inside the shirt.Although her hand was still holding on to Bob's wrist, Sandy was no longer trying to impede the movement of his hand. He had pushed her shirt up until it was. Good night.” Roby said.Roby had already taken a shower around noon but he needed to stand under a hot spray of water and think. He was confused by the feelings that he had for his mother and he wanted to try and sort them out. Although all was well between them he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. Why did he want his mother sexually? He told himself, as he stood in the shower, that it was just a silly infatuation, and that in no time he would forget about it and everything would return to. Let me tell you first about the "deals" we have with each other. In public, or with any company, she must be my bitch, and make me look good and all that sort of stuff, even at the cost of her being completely embarrassed, which turns me on for some strange reason.In private, just the two of us, it's the opposite. I'm her slave, I must do anything and everything she says.(This isn't some super mad crazy sexual power thing, we just tried it out for a laugh one day and it turned out to be so much. I started to pull away. “Are you alright?”She grabbed my wrist. “Please,” she nearly begged, and I could see the lust in her eyes. “Do that again.”We were both sitting on the couch. Her chest, I estimated a C cup, was pressed to mine. Our lips were locked. She scooted her ass forward on the couch, I knew she was setting up for a scissor. I moved my legs so it would work. Our pussies rubbed together, her warm juices on my tunnel, on my clit, felt so good. We pressed together.We must have scissor.