There he stood before his Mom with a magnificent erection throbbing just inches in front of my face. Then he got bold. “You liked sucking me, didn...��t you.” I looked up at him…our eyes met…we smiled. There was a time for talk, but this was not it.I reached for his pulsing cock, taking hold, gesturing it close and played with it. “That feels so good Mom,” he said. I stroked him again and cupped his balls. “Are you going to make me come again?” he asked. “Would you like that?”…a stupid. I thought it would be a dark medieval castle. Torches would cast deep shadows. But instead I found a Parisian lady’s boudoir, pre-World War II. The men were off preparing for conflict—negligent of the women they would leave behind. The ladies entertained themselves in the rooms of Mademoiselle Katarina—a decadent 1930s slumber party. A fire burned in the grate casting shadows where the light of a lone lamp did not reach. Cinnamon, crimson, and tangerine colored the skin of the serving girl. More

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