She then offered to at least make me breakfast. This I did not turn down. Her mom was a great cook. After breakfast we talked for a bit and then the s...bject turned to sex. Again this is not what you think. My girlfriends mom was about as liberal of a parent as they come. As long as her daughter did well in school, stayed away from d**gs, alcohol and other i*****l stuff she pretty much had the freedom to do what she wanted.She asked how did I like sex with her daughter and how did I like it. .What does it look like, should I make the first move... My mind is spinning with options. All this time we have been talking I am still on the floor. He is standing with his legs spread apart with one leg only inches from my hand that I am leaning on. My other hand is resting on my thigh and I am now leaning against the closed doors under the sink. I mention how large his thighs are and how good he looks. As I am doing this I put my hand on the back of his leg just above his boot. He moves. She seemed to like the idea that she could give me a hard-on so easily and who was I to complain. Once I had gotten used to it, working with Carly had become a lot of fun.Yes, she had gotten me to look, (as if I might not). I had focused on her knit top with the zipper up the front that wasn't really as far up as it should have been. Carly never wore a bra. Her tits were quite firm and only jiggled enough so you knew they were real.Today, the shape of her protruding nipples was evident through. And one of the things that really defines me a lot is what I wear. If I'm awake and kicking then I've got on my 501 jeans. And not a stitch underneath them.When I was young I would wear almost any kind of jeans. Just as long as they fit and I could afford them. But as I aged and lived my life I learned what I needed to do to make life good. One thing I learned is what button fly jeans could do to make life happy.So anyway, this is just a little story. Sort of an illustration you could say..