Cathy knew she must have misheard her sister. She couldn’t possibly have said she wanted to fuck her son. No way.“You’d let me?” Phil said.“...f you’re doing my sister, I bloody well insist.”Cathy watched as her sister stood up, and began to undress. The business suite jacket came off. She put it neatly over a chair. Next the skirt. She unzipped it, then carefully wriggled out of it, placing it with the jacket. Phil watched, as his mother stripped in front of him. He was hard again. She was a. ” I confess that I had a confused look on my face, but she just kissed me and grabbed the bar of soap.I had thought that showering with Daisy was wonderful, but even her lush body couldn’t compare with the love that Cara showed me that night. We spent more time touching and kissing than we did with actual washing, but even then we had a wonderful time. She showed me how much she loved my cock and balls, washing them repeatedly until I turned the water off and dried her incredible athletic. Every time he got the truck up to thirty two miles per hour Becky would tell him to slow down. It didn’t matter in the long run because the last of the corn was in the elevator with fifteen minutes to spare before the heavy rain came. Ed parked the truck where he had found it yesterday but before they got out he asked Becky, “Can I call you tomorrow?” Becky was relieved that the harvest was over and she had calmed down since the incident in the loft last week. After spending a couple of. ”“I’m sorry Father, I couldn’t sleep. I guess you don’t get many Christians coming to church at this time of the morning.”“Let’s sit down,” he said. He gestured towards the bench, behind us.We sat there for a while, savouring the calmness. Father Petrou leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his knees. With his hands together, he folded his fingers into each other, gazing ahead, at the altar in front of us.After a few moments of silence, Father Petrou spoke, “It was thirty-three years ago. I.