The men of Arabia seemed to float while walking, their legs unseen, their feet snug within open-toed sandals. Mustafa held this impression at the airp...rt as he saw passengers in these long garments gather at a long customs line.Vasilla flashed an identification card and passed without a word. Mustafa followed in awe. They walked briskly through the tidy terminal.Mustafa was fascinated by the simplest things, such as the customs workers emptying suitcases, the doorways marked with flowing Arabic. I grabbed Jeff’s hand and shoved it between my naked thighs. The feel of his probing fingers in my cunt made my knees go weak. “I’m getting so hot!”“Me too,” he breathed.He wasn’t kidding. Jeff’s big cock was twitching like it had a life of its own, and I hastily dove between his legs and swallowed as much of it as I could.The whole time I sucked my son’s cock, I stared at that mole above his pubic hair. It was like twenty years had evaporated and I was blowing my husband on our honeymoon. More

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