" "Sorry, Mom," I grinned sheepishly, straightening in my chair. Satisfied, she turned back to the stove, taking two eggs and cracking them in a glass...bowl. Moments later, we were eating breakfast and deep in a discussion of W.S. Merwin's poetry. I'd buried myself in his work for weeks while composing my final paper for American Lit class. Just another meal in our happy home, filled with Mom's great cooking and good conversation. Except that as we ate, I couldn't stop thinking of Mom's nearly. I invited him over, but I told him on I can jerk him he can't touch his dick unless its putting it inside me. But I told him that is all he can do is get me to rub his dick. So he came over that same day she left. He saw me and lie he said he's nasty by nature. He saw me and ripped off my top just to rub and suck on my tits. I enjoyed every moment my legs got weak. So I backed up to sit down he wouldn't stop sucking on them. I reached for his dick safely concealed in his jeans. I told. More

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