Without closing the curtains or putting a light on, she dropped the robe over a chair and slipped into bed naked,"I er, I haven't got any pyjamas mum"...I stuttered,"Oh for God's sake stop being silly, get in and snuggle into me, I'm shattered"I didn't argue, I dropped my own robe, got in beside her and promptly surrendered to the sandman.The next time I awoke I was spooned into her warmth one arm round her waist and something soft and yielding in the palm of my hand,Shit! It was a breast, I was. Obviously passed from mother to daughter. It's a little bit of a mystery where my wife's F-cups came from. She had graduated high school wearing only a C-cup. It wasn't until after first c***d that she started going into the D-cup range and beyond. She told me that with her second and third pregnancies, she had made it to G and H cups. It was after she finished breastfeeding her youngest, and the milk stopped, that she finally evened out at an F.My new step daughter developed a little crush on. More

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