I judged that Nicola would have had the opportunity to consider her response to my actions. I doubted yet that she would have done much more that to b...ing herself to believe it but it was always interesting to see how my pupils reacted to the unexpected in their experiences. After all she had become immersed in the world of the house and the cellar, it would have been possible for her thoughts of home and husband to recede. This must have been a rude awakening in many ways, not least that she. Squirting out colours of yellow, red, blue, orange, gray and black, Sam got a large canvas and placed it on the easel. After five hours, she was finished. Sam stepped back to look at her finished work and was both happy as well as sad by what she saw. Because on the canvas, like many others she had painted when she was upset over her parents, was a painting that showed hopes and dreams caged up and smashed to pieces. A painting that yearned for love and acceptance, but was shadowed by hatred. I’ve seen her naked, after all we’re nudists, but I never really looked at her. My Mom, whose name was Beth, had dark blond hair and a well-proportioned, compact body. With the past year's growth spurt, I'd finally surpassed her 5'4" height, and while I didn't know what size bra she wore, I did admire her nice, well-rounded breasts, which were topped by small brown areolas with pronounced nipples. I'd seen a lot of bare breasts over the past few years and realized that Mom's breasts are very. They were doing it! They were fucking! Zoë didn't know if she should run or stay. Her head said run! But her body was saying stay! She chose to listen to her body. Zoë could see Zack moving his hips back and forth, she couldn't tell what her mom was doing. But she could hear her mom moaning and talking to Zack. She was telling him how good his cock felt inside her, and telling him to go harder and harder. It wasn't long before Zoë could feel a funny feeling in her pussy. Her hand traveled down.