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Just one week after we moved into the Doctor's mansion my mom told me about the special mirror in the master bedroom. (How did she find that out is a...other story!) This mirror allowed someone in the study, which was next to the master bedroom, to see everything that was going on in the bedroom. In the study this mirror was hidden behind a huge oil painting. This meant that I could watch mom fucked her "man of the hour" from the study and the sexy show would make my cock hard enough to enter. I start harmless enough rubbing Anna's shoulders but then work my way down. I have most of the towel off and then move the last piece covering her ass. Don't worry Anna, I am a professional about this is what I say. She seems relaxed as I work her legs sneaking a peak at her peach, it is hairy as shit just as I figured but showing some pink, so I am having the right effect. As I work her legs and upper thighs, I brush against her twat and she moans just a little. So I brush against it some. Then she walked around to the desk, cleaning it off, and pulling out a condom from a draw. Dawn took the condom and put it on me. Then she leaned against the desk, jiggling her fat ass. “Fuck me good and hard” she said. Cock at ready, her pussy was dripping wet, and I thrust my cock inside. Grabbing her ass, I fucked her deep and hard. She held the desk with a tight grip. At times my hand would slap her ass, which turned us both on. She was begging for me to fuck her harder. When I did, we. In no time, she started touching her nipples and fondling her breasts. Molding and kneading herself like a dough. My cock was erect and was saluting this friend-turned-slut. At first what started to be adjusting cock slowly turned to touching and then into rubbing. I was masturbating looking at her masturbate. I was too high on excitement and eroticism to notice and accidentally slipped and fell right on the door. The door was wide opened.She had two fingers inside her pussy and the other hand.

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She opened her door, sat down on the door sill, and proceeded to pee on the pavement. She was wearing a skirt that night, but I hadn't seen any pantie..., so just for the hell of it, I asked her if she was wearing underwear. She said, “Of course not. You know I don't use 'em”. I didn't react, on purpose. What I did was to ask her if I could take a look at her pistol. She said sure, pulled up her skirt and pulled the pistol out of her bellyband holster. She dropped the mag, cleared the chamber,. During our chats since, the same topic has come up quite a few times though. She has also tried to shock me with talk about young men she has seen on the TV. One Sunday morning she asked me if I had seen the dancing programme on the TV the night before. When I said I had she then told me how wonderful she thought one of the dancers was and how she would love to feel his body up close to hers. She thought I might be shocked even though I wasn’t and qualified her remarks by saying,“There is still. More

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