She was pressing herself against me as she did and, I began to respond, kissing her back and, squeezing her breast. Our kissing became more passionate... and we carried on for a time. When we finally broke apart I went to leave. “Jo, this is wrong, we have to stop,” I said. As I said it she stripped her dress off over her head revealing she was totally naked. Her breasts stood proud, the nipples erect and her pussy was shaven apart from a small heart shaped area of closely cropped hair. All. “I see that,” he replied as I glanced at the growing bulge in his pants.“I want it so bad,” I confessed to him.“I know you do,” he said, making no attempt to hide the innuendo in his voice.He placed the lockbox on my dresser drawer and unzipped his pants. I licked my lips as I looked at the tip of his hard cock and saw the glisten of the pre-cum. He stroked his cock as he slowly walked towards me. I sat up, and extended my hand to him. He moved closer to me and together we removed his clothing,. Three of my fingers began massaging her pussy lips. This action gifted me with a liberal amount of her juices on my hand. I removed the hand and continued masturbating. The slick lubrication my mother's pussy had provided allowed me to vigorously pleasure myself. She watched me stroke my cock as I continued to suck on her gorgeous nipples. Tired of waiting to play with my cock, she pushed me back. I leaned against a makeshift back rest provided by the front passenger seat. She lowered her head. Of course the RAF were looked on by the army as being only one step away from civilians, but I had expected to be working in a more martial ambience than which I now found myself.The abrupt change from one way of life to another could be a factor in the occurrence of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and the unexpected flashback to the Falklands I had suffered in Suzannah Weston's office, for no apparent reason other than her mentioning 'aged eighteen', might be due to the realisation I was now.