Her breasts were completely free from the fabric of the blouse, supported only by their own adequate muscle structure.I kept silent, afraid to say any...hing that might break the spell and cause her to cover up again. I studied her nipples. They were generally in proportion to her breasts, although possibly a little smaller than average, and they were a nice medium brown, with a clear definition of where they started and where they stopped. She would turn heads in a crowd if she were to wear a. What I didn't knowwas that Mommy had special plans for me.I came home from work to find Mommy waiting for me at the door. Shekissed my cheek and patted my backside. I don't know why that day thatI'd brazenly worn a diaper under my work clothes, but I did know I wassoaked and in need of a change."Did my poor baby girl wet her diapers?" she said to me a baby lisp. Icouldn't help but blush, both from being called a baby and from Mommycalling me her baby girl. You see, I was in my mid-thirties. More

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