I pulled the back of her gown up and slipped my hand down the back of her panties and d**g my middle finger between her legs and into the steaming cau...dron of pussy juice that seemed to be flowing like a river from her cunt.I haven't known her to be this wet in years. I normally eat her out to orgasm before intercourse so she will be wet enough to penetrate. But here she was flowing copiously all the way down to her asshole. I didn't know if her excitement stemmed from knowing her fantasy was. "I was rolling my eyes and thinking, 'Yeah sure, ' but I knew I'd best keep the mouth shut.Mom pulled a beer from the fridge and handed it to me. "Sit, relax, all of us are going to clean up a little and don't worry about supper, it's made and is being made."I flipped the TV on and watched a news channel to get an idea of how the world was getting along. Oil was up a little, so that meant another ten cents to the price of gas and diesel. The Middle East was still arguing over who was going to. I thought she might actually be enjoying the view. I read and she watched until we began to descend into Los Angeles, when she grew nervous again. I prepared myself for what I knew was coming, a death grip on my arm. It wasn’t quite as bad as the one on takeoff, though she jumped when the wheels screamed in protest as they hit the tarmac.January 17, 1989, Los Angeles, California“We’re landed,” I said as the aircraft rolled out and turned onto a taxiway.“I’m still alive!” she said with an. She handed me the skirt. It had a zipper and a button. I knew thatthey belonged in the back. I had a hard time catching my breath.To me, this skirt symbolized womanhood. Only a woman wears a zipperin the back, and that's what I was becoming. A woman who wore womanishclothes, and who wore skirts that zipped up in the back.I unzipped the skirt, then stepped into it. I pulled it up and overthe blouse I wore, then zipped it and did the button.Mrs. Johnson said with disappointment, "Mary, Mary,.