In these pre internet days we had such mediums as contact mags, specialty mags and such and it was though one of these that I got in touch with Colin.......that wasnt his name but the rest of the story is true verbatim. He described himself as being athletic and in his 40s, I was 27 and he was hoping to meet a crossdresser, after an initial letter and some phone calls I invited him down to my place for the weekend.He was'nt a cd himself but was what we all call an admirer.I met him off the train. So to begin with, I used a long jacket, which later became a ‘rainmac’ – the coat of choice for perverts who mac-wank through holes in their pockets. Macs don’t come like that of course, I had to cut the holes with a pair of scissors – in fact, you remove the pocket altogether so your hand slides in easily and you have room for it to move. To go with your wank-mac you need wank-trousers. The idea of these is that, again with the pockets cut off, you have easy access and movement for your hand.. I know this because as tired as I was I kept waking up to the moans and gyrations of my wife and daughter.Taking a deep breath I sighed remembering the loving times we had had last night.I smelled coffee stretched and went the bathroom to do the usual. Just wearing boxers I headed off to the kitchen. As I got closer I also smelled bacon. Ahhh, Saturdays, I loved Saturdays.I walked up behind my wife and cuddled her from behind. She had on a small silk robe and I slid my hands under the robe and. My son replied, “Hey, those are my mom’s boobs.” He removed his hand, and I snapped out of it.I could see his boner in shorts now. I sat on top of the Jacuzzi in the corner and applied some oil on my things. The tan lines are visible as my panties were much smaller than the previous ones. I rubbed some oil to both the legs and slid into the water.Meanwhile, I answered my son, “Don’t be such a prude. Enjoy a little. Am I not hot enough?” He answered, “But you are my mom.”I told him, “You are.