He discovered he had a natural talent for, 'things natural.' He loved working the soil and seeing the results of his hard labour in flower blossoms fr...m early Spring to late Fall. His favourites were the rhododendrons and he spent many hours nurturing them through a tough winter or a dry spring....he had a special reason for doing so.He was twenty-two when he met Rosy...or 'My Rosy'...as he always called her. They married after a whirlwind courtship and she came to live with him in the small. Normal. Not extravagant or nice, mind you, instead it was just shockingly regular for an average motel lobby. The beige walls had occasional paintings of abstract art that were surprisingly well done. Spotting the edges of the room were chairs, coffee tables, and a few potted plants of varying size. A busty woman behind a counter looked up from her fashion magazine at you.She was dressed proactively, but not too excessive. Her long and flowing blond hair complimented her sparkling blue dress.. That time everything was heated up.I asked him to give me a few minutes. He had one more peg he had in his hand. I wore the one-night suit to thigh length and a bra that was a little tight for me. My hair was long, too, so I shook my head, and my hair spread. Then I went to him.His eyes glittered. I was in a red-netted nighty and black bra, and I had no hair on my body. He came running to me and said, “This job is yours.” I, too, in a naughty way, asked, “Which job? Marketing one or to. ”Oh, Roby, My Baby, ” she cried out, thrusting herself up against him.Roby’s cock slid effortlessly into his mother’s warmth. His origin. His source. The fiery oven of his birthplace. It felt like heaven. Even though, he was reveling in the wicked delight of making love to his mother, he was slightly surprised. It should have felt a little dirty and perverted. He should have had some guilt, but he couldn’t believe how natural and wonderful it felt. Making love to the beautiful woman was.