It had been years since Franks cock had been able to be ready this fast. But tonight she was just so damned sexy, transformed into a succubus by whate...er naughty idea bubbled inside her head. Frank felt his second wind rising along with his cock. What? he croaked as pleasure tumbled through his body. I want you to be my john. Your what, babe? My john, she continued, breath moist on his ear. You know, the guy who picks up a prostitute. Right, he muttered. I should have realized that. Having a. This seemed like a good time to talk with him about Mom.He got his wine, snacks an started to go back to his room. I ask him if I can come up with him and talk for awhile.He said sure you can talk to me anytime you like Becky, Then started to cry and said he was sorry for calling me by Moms name. That made me start to cry as well. He went up stairs and I followed him after stopping in my room to grab a long tee shirt I was going to try and put on. It was just a few months after Mom died. Her pelvis was churning against him. He was experiencing difficulty in keeping up with her. She was erupting beneath him, her legs wrapped tightly around his buttocks. Using short bursts of energy he retaliated, pumping furiously, and then stopping briefly to recover. She continued relentlessly. Her skin was hot, smooth, and unbearably soft to his touch. He wanted to taste it, devour it—he found her mouth, and she slowed her movements in order to greet his tongue. He felt like an animal,. Did it almost anywhere we could find a chance of five minutes of more or less privacy. Got 'caught' a few times too. Always after he had already orgasmed though. Mark is a great pressure performer.(Get your hand away... Mmmmmm... Yes, I know. Go get a towel if it worries you.)He's also pretty good at realizing when to cover my mouth so I don't scream too loud when we are in public. I never did find out how he learned to do that.(Male thing he says. I don't believe it. There no such thing unless.