I couldn't help but notice her nice bust line and the pleasing swell of her hips. I shook my head trying to make sense of the series of events overtak...ng me. She should have been a mother figure for me and thus generally ignored. Until today. For the first time I looked at her more closely. What triggered my interest was an odor I hadn't noticed before. Maybe it was the smell of soap and powder so reminiscent of my sister. Despite the shame of being caught with my sister, I couldn't shake the. Her muscles worked, but every movement drained whatever energy was there.As she went to change her blouse, she noticed that she was wearing it inside out. Was it possible that she left her room the night before in that state? Maybe that was the reason why that strong, mysterious man looked at her with such intent. Stranger yet was when she removed her jeans to discover that she was wearing her panties backwards. “This can’t be,” she said out loud, entirely confused and boggled.Even though she. And here, God had blessed me, I was doing to for both my husband and son. What more could a woman ever need as a mother. It was blissful and heavenly. My son now removed his hands from my bottom and asked me to do it.I squirmed with unprecedented delight as I heard his words. It was what precisely I wanted to do. I wished to be the active agent in this pious act of curing my husband. I did not want my son to do any effort too. I knew , he was having sexual pleasure but even I doubted that he. My utter disgrace would soon be complete, as my neighbors would hear me orgasm while impaled on my black stud and they would be sure to hear his grunting and groaning, as well. His climaxes were always loud and like much of his speech, laced with vulgarities, graphic descriptions of sex and ghetto-speek. "All right, girl. Go 'head and spray it. But remember, dis ain't 'bout choo. I don't give a fuck 'boutchour cum. 'Sall 'bout tightenin' up dat quimmy fo me. I is getting my muthafuckin' nut.