Anand's mouth on her clit was driving Amudha wild, and she gurgled deep in her throat as her son chewed gently on her inflamed clit.Anand rotated his ...ead between Amudha's thighs, mouth hungrily in the heated wetness of his mother's wide-open twat, her spread cuntlips covering his young face with sticky, fragrant juices. As his horny mother squealed and bucked her pussy against his chin, Anand slipped his hands under her tight, firm asscheeks, pulling her hot, juice-filled cunt harder against. Their whole trip had been taken with neither of them saying much, lost in their own thoughts.“Won’t you be jealous, sir?” Mrs. Waxerman asked as he shut his Cadillac off. This had been the overriding thought on her mind. Scripture had replayed over and over in her head. Her God was a jealous God. Her husband to be, a Christian man, should be a jealous man too.“Whatever would I be jealous of?” He asked simply, genuinely surprised at her question.“When I offered to be God’s whore, it was because. As the covers revealed my breasts, I heard an unmistakable intake of air as if someone were shocked or perhaps pleased. If it were my son, I fancied that he would be pleased. After all, I have fairly large breasts and Greg has often looked at them. Over the years I had developed the habit of many women with large breasts of pulling something over them when I notice eyes glancing at them. The act of reaching down and pulling a sweater or jacket closed has become such second nature to me that I. I rushed toward the door to see what was going on right as John came running back. ‘Watch out!’ he yelled as he tried to push me back into the kitchen. ‘She’s crazy!’ Right on his heels was a woman screaming and wielding a purse like a medieval mace. ‘Come back here you thug!’ she yelled. ‘I’ll teach you to mess with my daughter!’ ‘Mom?’ I yelled, stepping in front of her so she would stop pummeling John with her bag. ‘What are you doing?’ She stopped, her eyes darting between me and John. ‘You.