"That would be Marty Jenks. He's my best friend. We've been friends since we were little kids. Our mom's met while grocery shopping and the rest as th...y say is history.I had just put some food in my mouth when Mom asked "How was your weekend?" She does that just to bust my chops.I swallowed and said "Not bad, Did some studying and goofing off. How was yours?" I was happy that you cleaned your room. The twenty I won from your Dad is taking Eleanor and I to lunch today." You really bet Dad twenty. It was what got the vixen off. The resistance and final capitulation only spurred her domme to do even harder crueler sex. Faking-it didn’t hamper the sexual play. Maybe if there had been a true genuine interest, it would have all stopped sooner. It could have removed the catalyst of degradation. Then Becky might have found herself rejected and pushed out the front door as quickly as she agreed to participate. Now it was too late. Becky’s internal walls flexed. The orgasm hit hard and sucked. . or sometimes even while walking home if it was a warm day ... and I wouldn’t have a reason to put one on again until leaving the next morning. My mom was happy that I had that confidence, and that I made less laundry! I’d run around the neighborhood, hang out with friends, skateboard, ride my bike, play soccer or basketball at the school sports court in the evenings ... and unless it was cold out, you’d find me with no shirt on probably 80% of the time. And summer vacation? I definitely had. You deserve this." No shit, Mom?" Henry asked her, his eyes gazing raptly at the inordinate amount of cleavage showing, squeezing out of the low cut white blouse she had stretched over her mammoth knockers, a blouse probably one size too small considering that it looked like she had forced two midgets under it with much difficulty."No shit, sweetie," Hilda replied, smiling as her boy gaped at her bulging bazooms. "You're really going to stay a week with your grandparents. You should have a lot.