“Bet you didn’t expect that from your old Nan.”“Not really,” I said, not quite knowing how she was going to react.“Neither was I love,” ...he said. Neither was I!”“Are you OK?”“Oh, yes!” she said. “That’s one thing I’ve missed most. Sorry it was you who had to suffer it.”“Er - ‘suffer’ isn’t really the right word.” I said. “I enjoyed it.”She gave me an old fashioned look. “Really?”I simply nodded. She was thoughtful for a while as she studied me.“You’re very good,” she said. “It was the. ” “I love you, Isolde,” and lay on top of her, panting. After a few minutes, he said, wonderingly, “You came! We came together!” He started laughing then, and Isolde laughed with him. “Oh, Honey, you are so wonderful,” he said, “I just love you so much, I could explode.” “Well – Id say that was a bit of an explosion we just had.” They both laughed again. “Isolde,” George said, “I want to taste you and us. Lay back up in the bed.” She put one foot on the edge of the bed, and pushed herself up. My knee close at the steer.I have experience in driving down 'les autoroutes de soleil, sans mes mains, pour rouler'.I have only to stretch my foot a bit to keep the steer straight, so I can roll my 'p'tit petard'.I have a nickname among French friends 'a Paris, Lyon, Grenoble, Marseille, Montpellier'.They all call me , as all know, I always smoke smelly 'herbal cigarettes'.They all also like their big petards. But smoke secretly, as police patrols all of Paris-Chatelet.They all know me from. It put me in mind of something long ago.I recalled the time my mother had left the house early one morning to take Alex to the dentist. Dad had come into my bedroom ... just after I’d taken a shower ... I was still naked and had to bend over my bed ... I’d gasped as his tongue had found my pussy from behind; and then felt his tongue slide over my ass-hole! He’d never done anything like that before.I knew it was wrong but his darting tongue had made me cry out with pleasure.He slid his finger.