She felt protected. She forgot everything. The only things in her mind were herself and her son. She understood that to have freedom and happiness, sh... had to let go of everything. She had to be happy herself to make her son happy.Mom: No, baby, don’t feel sad anymore.She turned around and hugged him back.Mom: I never knew you felt this way about me, baby. You are making me cry with happiness! I’m so blessed to have a son that cares so much about his mother!Her huge milky boobs were pressing. She draped her hands, tipped with rednails, upon my bare shoulders. She lowered her head until her faceappeared alongside mine. "You're gorgeous." She stepped away for amoment, returning with a long and gauzy piece of white cloth attached toa what looked like a toothy metal comb. She stood behind me and pinned itinto my hair. She ran her fingers along the veil, allowing it to falldown my back.I looked at the girl in the mirror. She was me.Her face was pale, both from nervousness and the. Most had whips or crops in their hands. The menwere submissive, tied up bent over benches or on their knees. Many ofthem had dildoes being pushed up their asses or in their mouths. Somewere even being fucked by a women with devices that I later learned werecalled strap-ons. Another magazines had men dressed in women's clothing,especially as maids serving their wives, Gf's, etc.There were crossdressing magazines, such as "Female Mimic", amongothers. They showed men dressed as showgirls, French. Spartan pressed my cock right against Brenda's cunt. “You want to fuck her, don't you?” Mrs. Spartan asked, sliding my dick up and down Brenda's snatch.The girl moaned her excitement, her reddened ass clenching. The tip of my dick pushed into her folds, her cuntlips sliding over the tip of my dick.“Well, Henry?” Mrs. Spartan demanded, squeezing hard on my shaft.I winced. “Y-yes,” I groaned. “But she's not on the pill. If I—”“Then fuck the slut!” she hissed and released my cock. A moment later,.