It was me. It was me, completely naked, lying on a sofa, a velvet-covered sofa. It was me looking sexy! Never in my entire life had I ever thought I c...uld ever look sexy. It was me looking beautiful. I always hated the way I looked. I always thought I was ugly. Mum had painted me beautiful. She had painted me touching my boob! I know she’d made that part up – Mum had never, ever, ever seen me doing anything like that! Apart from anything else, my boob hasn’t even really started growing. Maybe. I wanted her to surrender to the inevitable. And yet, another part of me was spellbound by the captivating scene playing out in front of my eyes. I wanted to know how far we could take this. How far she would dare to prolong her pleasure? Sweat glistened on Sarah's beautiful body. Her eyes were clenched tightly. I began to flex my knees as I thrust into her so the movement was now inwards and upwards, lifting her slightly off the bed each time. She clutched her breasts in her hands and. More

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