I meet her first time on her b’day, she came wearing a nice top and leggings, she had an amazing boobs big and juicy, her as was really big and soft... She sat in the car and we went for a long drive to agra, I gave her b’day gift in front of taj mahal, while returning back from agra on expressway she made me eat pizza from her juicy lips as a treat, then there was no stopping back, we smooched a lot on the express way and also played with her yummy boobs and fingered her to an orgasm, and. The man on her left shifted position. He moved down so that he was sucking her toes on her left foot. With her other hand he was now wanking her stiff cock. I carried on licking and sucking Hollys clit with vigour and she started to thrash erratically and I knew that in seconds she would be cumming. The inevitable happened and she unleashed her orgasm. The man on the right pushing his cock in her mouth as she gasped into her orgasm. She then pushed my head up and said that I was now my turn to. And very soon everybody was calling her the Arabian horse. I loved getting turned on hearing it. 3 years went by as I finished my college and returned home as a graduate. And just two days after I came back home, it was my birthday. My mother was very happy to have me back.And I was even more happy to have her right in front of me. I was so sexually addicted to my mother, I was convinced I had crossed that line where seeing her merely as the woman who gave birth to me, was not possible. I was. It was all gone. Everything but the nightmares. I never went to the wedding. I couldn’t bring myself to see him, feigning, or worse – meaning – happiness, with her. I couldn’t look her in the eye, couldn’t look my friends in the eye, because I knew I had the look of someone eternally changed and different. People would ask, and even without my answer, people would know. So I left that morning, citing a death in the family to the first person I saw, handing over an envelope with money and lost.