My cunt was screaming for attention and I could barely move in that hot dank locker that smelled of old socks and dust. I felt as if I was going insan... and I couldn't take another second of just watching, but of course I did. Miss Squires hadn't wanted me to be there, my mother couldn't possibly know or I don't know what might happen, and Jenny ... I sighed ... Jenny was doing as she was told, doing exactly what Miss Squires wanted her to do, what I wanted to do.Miss Squires let them have their. His cock was hard as steel and it was turning me on to be holding it. I stroked it slow, from one end to the other. I increased speed slowly and I fondled his balls with my other hand. Soon he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. I was stroking him at a medium pace now and could feel his cock swelling and his breathing was getting heavier. Then he tensed up and started to cum. Several ropes of thick sperm shot from his cock as I continued to stroke. When he seemed to be done I released my. Howe’s medium was not the piano, the harpsichord, the violin, or the flute. His was the guitar. He composed his first song at four, gave his first concert at eight, and by 10, was touring worldwide. He loved music, it was his only friend. But his parents, two people that used his talent to their benefit, poisoned him. Whenever he had moments of doubt, they would berate him, telling him that Mozart was self-assure, he never second thought his own talents. They stole his childhood, robbed him. " "Someday son, some day. But right now bring that hard cock up here so mom can return the favor".I watched my son with that big eat shitting grin slowly maneuvering his way up towards my chest. Placing his cock between my breasts like a tunnel to its destination, he squeezed them together and slowly to start pumping. Taking hold of my breasts he released his hold on them, and using his right hand, grabbed a fist full of hair and bend my head towards where his cock is extending. Extending out.