The one line he could never cross no matter how muchhe'd like to.Vincent opened his backpack, quickly pulling out the dressed suit. Hequickly stripped...her down to her underwear. "Now there's a thing I'dnever get to see in my life." With a big smile on his face he pulled offthe black underwear, taking in the look of his best friend's motherlying there completely nude and completely deflated next to a pile ofher clothes. Another check on the clock. 20 minutes.Vincent undressed himself, the tent. With my free hand I ripped the stockings I had one, wanting to be a complete slut, whore, cunt, cumdump. I kept looking at that hole, I wanted it. I needed it. Finally I worked up the courage. I kicked my jeans over to the hole, and walked over, dropping to my knees. I sat there for a moment, I had come this far, what would MD want from me, what would turn her on, please her, even with her not being here how can I serve her? With that I grasped the bottom of the hole, my fingers wrapping around. My washing wouldcontinue down to his balls, which I would knead gently in my hands. Hiscock always responded to these actions, but, at that time, we chose topretend to ignore these erections or semi erections. When it was my timefor a bath, he would often enter in his boxer shorts and, more or less,replicate my washing of him. He gave special attention to my hole andwould often linger long and tenderly here. His fingers toyed expertly withit. Sometimes, he'd insert his thumb, his other fingers. She leaned against my shoulder, grasped my hand and her crying slowed. I wiped her eyes with my handkerchief, trying not to mess up her makeup any more than it already was. I squeezed her hand gently and continued to murmur apologies, trying to comfort her. Finally the crying stopped. She looked up at me and asked, ‘What’s your name?’ ‘Pete,’ I replied. ‘I really am thrilled to meet you, Brande – because I never dreamed it could ever happen. But I’d rather not have met you at all – if it.