.’ I moan her name. Her lips felt so incredible. Her hands reached for the zipper of the dress and slid the zipper down, she unhooked my bra, and re...ealed my breasts to her ‘god you’re so beautiful…’ She whisped then took my erect nipple in her mouth, massaging her tongue against it…throwing me over edge. She has always been so skilled with her tongue. With her other hand, she massaged my right nipple between her forefinger and thumb. My back arched in reaction. ‘Do you..’ She flicked her. At the time, I had no rich repertoire of words or killer seduction techniques to draw upon. I was like Magellan, set sail without a map or compass. I knew nothing about love. Heck, I would hardly call this young love. Young lust would be more appropriate.It's not like I really had no clue about sex at this time. I knew the word sex meant more than whether you were a boy or a girl. In fact, my parents had borrowed a book from the local library called 'The Kid's Own XYZ Of Love And Sex'. If I. As she was leaving the bathroom she would tell me that she would be back to ‘see to’ me and I had to stay where I was. When she returned she would say something like, ‘now what are we going to do with this?’ and start to wash my cock vigorously with soap, sometimes using a soft cloth and sometimes just her hands. It always felt fantastic when mum would hold my hard cock and run her soapy hands over my tight balls and up and down my tiny shaft. She would rinse the soap from my body by lifting. I whispered, “Don’t make a sound. Those men in there are serious gangsters and they are dangerous. I made a deal with their boss to save your ass from a serious beating or possibly worse. I know all about your gambling debt and I’ve been using my cunt to buy you some time.”The expression on my husband’s face went from a look of surprise to a look of guilt and then fear.I said, “I promised to let them film me in ten different scenes for the porn films the Bossman produces. I have been doing two.