By now I knew I was wet and getting turned on. She was very gentle with my boobs, avoiding my nipples, until there was nothing left. Using more lotion... she began to work my nips, they were clearly excited, hard as they ever had been.My eyes were closed and trying to lay still, as I began moaning. Then her right hand went slowly down my stomach, to my abdomen, her fingers always moving, rubbing, caressing me. Her other hand stayed on my nipple, kneading and rubbing it. Then the final move, under. I did not care, I went harder, and deeper. A few seconds later he let out a gasp and aloud moan or grunt and just shot load after load after load down my throat and in my mouth. I was barley able to keep up with the amount he has just released into my mouth. But this time I did not let him go right away. He also did not get soft. He stayed hard. What he said next almost made me have a heart attack. “Have you ever been fucked by a guy?” The truth was no never. I only looked and sucked dick I. It was your way of signaling. As natural as drinking water. A level of intimacy that only existed between the two of us. And your way of showing your submission of your body, and soul to your lustful lover.There was never any love making in the car. At least not unless on long drives. You knew there wouldn’t be any fondling. Because I was driving. I was in control anyway, and the foreplay – that would come when we got to where I wanted us to go.You realized we were going to the mall first. And. She would undress me, caress and fondle my penis, kiss me on the lips, maybe ask me some intimate questions, ask did I think incest with my mother was wrong. Here my answer always had to be, "Yes, mother we should be ashamed of ourselves, I'm going to write to my Member of Parliament about it," at which she would laugh contentedly and then jerk me off. I had to gasp and cry out her name, gyrating my pelvis as my ejaculation started. I never disappointed her in this, for I couldn't help.