I wanted to shout at the man, but he pushed me in a chair and got to work. The mask, the tin foils, the nails, even my toe nails. I felt so exposed as...they started waxing here and pushing there. “We need a deep leg wax girls.” he said turning me in the rolling chair to a clothed area. ‘Oh No’ my mind was racing ‘they are going to wax me completely and see how wet I have been’. I could resist as the brunette pulled off my pants and worked my panties off. I don’t think this was normally. It was a real turn on for me watching her moan like a whore while we fucked. She then raised her legs, putting them on my shoulders. When I was about to continue, she told me:“Could you give me a favor. Honey?”“Yes, m’am!”“Could you stop calling me Mrs. Anderson, and call me just mom?” Before she let me answer, she said:“I know you have a mom and she’s a wonderful woman, but calling me your mom means so much to me!”So, in a hesitant and humble tone I uttered irresolutely: “Mom!” She instantly. My friends had noticed changes in me perhaps even before I did. Wheneverthis thing started it was not clear to me - it was not an accident or eventthat I could pin down. My friends would ask me whether I was putting onweight, or losing weight, or coloring my hair - all sorts of stupidquestions that made no sense to me at the time. They could see the subtlechanges, which I missed before I was diagnosed.In my first week in hospital for tests, every one of them had called in tosee me. Like. " Did you find him?" Did I ever! The little bitch was sitting on some big fat bastards lap, grinding his crotch and frenching. He must have picked that up from the dark night, we used to do it all the time and it was His favorite way to get worked up!I remember all too well, the first time we did it: we came back from fighting some of penguin's thugs, it was an easy fight and I was all worked up, I ran towards Batman who just sat down in front of the computer, I jumped, landed on his lap and.