.. don't know. I just wasn't ready. Not yet." Oh?" mom said, pursing her lips. "It's all right. I can keep on going as long as need be." I know, mom,"...I said. I was achingly rock hard from the constant fluttering of lips on my shaft, that wasn't the problem.I could feel my mother's warm saliva dribbling down the underside and then stopping to rest in the shrubby hair of my balls."Okay, I'm ready," I said.When I felt the tingly feeling of that drop going down, and mom touched her lips with her. He slid into view, his long skis spraying snow. He wore black wool pants, and goggle-style sunglasses--dark and intriguing. He was laughing with his friends, and then he saw me, he took off his goggles, looked right at me and smiled. His smile alone made my legs weak, and my breath caught in my throat. He was in his early twenties, like me, but I distinctly remember thinking: This is a real man. Not some college boy, like my mother wanted me to find. Not some junior executive, like my father. I parted the jaws and held them close to her nipples. Poor Rita did not even have a clue what she was about to experience. I felt my manhood stiffen.?Count back from three, Rita.?She stiffened her body, and began. ?Three?two?one?.Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!?Her body jolted backwards as if it had been zapped with electricity. Her arms and legs strained violently against her restraints, her head was thrown back in pain, her breasts bounced wildly. I held her torso in place. Her muscles were stiff,. Maybe 32C-28-32... heck I'll be crazy, 32D-28-32 with that buttbeing extra bubbly and connecting to perfect legs, made for our uniform.How's that?" she said while scribbling the final attributes.Rachel was smiling, obviously happy with this. "Great! How about face?Posture? Personality? Like smart, dumb, slutty, flirty?"Claire started thinking. "The face is the selling point. It needs to lookinnocent, but the guys need something fantasize about. She should havethe young, round, girlish face..