My pussy clenched as I took more and more of my son’s cock, staring up at him and taking such motherly pride in the pleasure crossing his strong fac....“Damn, Mom,” he panted as his dick brushed the back of my throat. “You’re not going to do that? Svetlana doesn’t even do that.”Svetlana was his American girlfriend, a whore who put out. She wasn’t good enough to marry my son, but she had holes for him to satiate his desires. Still, she should do this much for my son. Maybe I should talk to her.I. .”“Relax, Prince Sparky, you do what you do. You are a prince, after all. I’ll sleep on the couch, just don’t fuck while I’m trying to rest, okay?”“Uh ... yeah! Totally! No problem with that at all!”After that awkward but kind of positive exchange, we headed back down the private dining room. Ashryn and Katriana were chatting over wine, though they quieted when we came in. “All set upstairs?” Ashryn asked.“Yeah, we also sorted out the sleeping arrangements,” I replied, “Ashryn, you can either. Bonded to me. I just had to accept it. “Now,” said Mrs. Spartan. “We are just starting the Peloponnesian War that was fought between Athens and Lacedaemon, which is often called Sparta, my namesake. We are fortunate because a Greek Historian witnessed the war and wrote about it. His account survived over two thousand years to reach us, giving us insight into how the Ancient Greek city-states fought.”“Mrs. Spartan,” Linda asked, raising her hand.“Yes, Linda?” Mrs. Spartan asked, Dominique's. Sure they needed to be invited to do it (I knew that, even if it had never been my reality) but it’s natural and normal. But all I kept thinking is that I needed to do something for him. In my weird way of thinking, he was a man in need and I was a whore who took care of those kinds of things. That was it! I felt obligated! I felt like I needed to give him what no one else ever had.It made sense – and I knew that Jason was a friend who didn’t expect anything from me. But what perplexed me is.