She saw my expression of pain but did not comment, saving my dignity. Her tenderness reminded me of my birth mother. She was dead but I remembered her...red hair and full bosom, which was another reason I had a weakness for this woman. Anne had a plain face that was rich with freckles, green eyes and breasts that could smother a child. I tried to conjure up my birth mother’s face but failed.I stood up. Modesty was not an issue with Anne. She looked over my nakedness the same way I judge horse. “What a pretty pussy, honey. Play with it for Mommy.”“Yes,” she said eagerly.I grabbed Alison's black hair, pulling her face tight against my pussy, humping against her wonderful, licking lips. Pleasure shuddered through me as I watched my youngest run her fingers up and down her plump vulva, stroking and massaging her slit. Then she spread herself open, exposing her pink depths, a little clit peeking out of its hood. She was so cute and sexy all at the same time. My fingers tightened on her. More

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