I opened my eyes upon the realisation of my mother calling me. I must have dozed off into a small sleep. "Yeah?" I called."Honey, I'm desperate to go ...o the loo. Will you be long?" I may be, yeah. I've only been in for ten minutes." I called back."Do you mind if I just go now?"I paused for a second, covering my firm twenty year old breasts with handfuls of bubble-bath. "Yeah, come on in." I called.My mother burst into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind her. The bath was located in. I created a folder for her data and downloaded it straight to the machine."OK. It's in a folder in "My Documents" called "Phone Numbers", under your name, if you need it." Is there a password?" No, just go straight to it, if you need it." I went onto the internet and started browsing for classic cars. I fancied an E-type if I could find one.Eventually Sharon had soaps overload and went to make a cup of tea. I quickly copied her file and e-mailed it to myself at work.Normally I didn't bother. The look of love and lust on his face was all I ever dreamt it would be."Oh baby you are doing so fucking great," I said as I looked down and touched his lips, running my finger over them, wiping my juices from them. As he watched, I took my finger and sucked it. He groaned loudly watching me. Waiting for my guidance."Finger my pussy while you eat me baby," I told him. Like a good student he delved in. He slid two fingers inside me, as I gasped and whimpered lightly. He started to finger me. He replied sheepishly, I dont think so Candy. A guy like me browsing in a store selling frilly knickers and vibrators might get my face into the papers for all the wrong reasons. Ebony sipped her drink and said, scathingly, thats the fucking paparazzi for you. Everyone chuckled and I asked, Whats your story? He gave a potted history of his background as the son of a West Indian father and white mother born in East London 24 years ago. At the age of 12 he was signed by a lower league club and.