?Ok my stupid little fucktoy, you better fucking enjoy this,? he said, and for a beautiful moment I thought he meant I could cum when I was ready. But...when his breathing suddenly quickened I realized what he had meant. ?But?no?you said?you said?no,? I cried, but of course there was nothing I could do as his cum filled me up. John let go of my shoulders and pulled out of me, leaving me to crumple to the floor. I felt like I was going to cry again. ?But I needed?you said?? John cut me off. ?I. You and your husband have actually done very well indeed and her recovery is excellent. I could put you in touch with a counsellor/therapist but that actually might put Annette back by placing to much emphasis on the business. I accept that she is mature beyond her years but her hormones will be the same as any other girl in her age group. As a result she will get violent mood swings and she will have extremes of emotion. I suggest you talk it through with her and do your best to persuade her. " Well then, go over to the ball field and see who's there." OK, Mom." But his finger didn't stop. That little bastard was going to make me cum again, come hell or high water, and I no longer cared."Stop." I said it in a whisper."Sure, Mom." But he didn't. I continued to squirm against him as I sorted the colors on the rest of the dirty clothing. After all, a mother has to multi-task, and sorting laundry while being finger-fucker is do-able, although I admit that I do not file or color my nails. ” She turned to John who smiled a “Go ahead, it’s alright” kind of smile. She had been enjoying John's length and girth for weeks now after meeting him and loved to feel that big thing. Now she stared transfixed as another man she had just met showed her his penis. The alcohol, the mood, the sights, smells, all things became too much. She bent over in front of the ready Ken and went from reserved middle-aged woman to slut, tasting the warm bulky flesh of Ken's salty hard tool while John lifted.