Mom’s mouth opened in surprise and a small gasp escaped past her lips. I teased her for several minutes, finding her groove and brushing my knuckles...up and down inside it, then turning my hand around and rubbing my finger up and down and then sideways back and forth.I smiled. How glorious to feel the sun on my back and my mother’s pussy in my hand. I forgave her for allowing my father to join us on our day. What a special mother, to sit with her husband lying behind her with legs spread wide. She left the restaurant for the attached saloon (was that why it was called the "Union" hotel?) to inquire about Curly Johnson. She bought a beer, which she was developing a taste for, by now, and engaged the bartender in conversation. The bartender insisted that he had never heard of Curly Johnson, or anybody who looked like him, so Jane was somewhat taken aback. Had she come this far for nothing? She thanked the bartender for his courtesy and left for the next saloon on the one street in. "I was concerned about how much troubleBill was going to be as Barb. I guess I can lighten up there, butwe'd better keep an eye on him just in case. Barb, I would suggestthat you consider finding every opportunity to help stir theconfusion inside that mind and keep him off balance." But ...." Monica seemed disappointed. "Being inside that body/mindmight just re-enforce for him the old view about women indeed needhelp and guidance. Maybe it will re-enforce his stereotype attitudeabout women. He walked us away from Marcus and held me closer and closer. My breasts were against his chest and I felt our warmth mixing together. He slid his hands down on my hips and gently controlled their movement. I played the game and pushed back into his hands exaggerating the sensual swaying. After less than a song he asked me with a strong African accent if I wanted to go outside with him for a while. I shook my head and said it was too soon. He danced another song before asking me again. His.