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He had no father, and I had no husband. He had no grandparents worthy of the name, and he endured tough years in school around kids with complete fami...ies. He never once disrespected me, talked back to me, or gave me any grief. He supported and defended me as much as he was able. I also knew something else – and it had nothing to do with skirts and undies, he was proud of me.Oh, I did arrive at one irrevocable decision. There would be no more allowing him to masturbate under my clothing. There. I could now feel my uncircumcised mushroom head pushing on what could only be Ashlynn’s cervix. Rather than pump, I began to make tiny circular ‘tuck’ movements with my hips. I knew that I would now be rubbing her G-spot, and I also knew that the end result would be explosive. It was.When I ‘changed up’ that last time, Ashlynn’s face was already a bit flushed. But now, her brow furrowed, and that gorgeous doe-eyed face went instantly red. Her eyes that had rolled back into her head, now. The texture of the face was pale, almost a creamy hue; but not unhealthy — rather it gave the impression of something new that had just been born into the world.The first time John had met the face was in his bath tub.He was just looking down, and there it was, staring up at him directly and sternly, from underneath the soapy water.Sophie, his Nanny, didn't see it; and John was sure she would have cried out, but she just continued washing his little head. He hated the feel of her warm hands on. .
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