I wanted to touch her, lick her, spank her, bite her, make her beg me for more. I wanted her voice in my ear, her pussy around my cock, her tongue in ...y mouth. * There I was. A Christmas party. While everyone else talked about work and the events of the last year, all I was thinking about was whether I’d ever have sex again. Small talk. Paper cups. Gingerbread men. Wine glasses. Cola, lemonade, vodka, beer. Couples holding hands. People flirting, sitting on the kitchen countertops. I talked to. I just kinda shrugged it off as a strange way of dealing with her loss. Then, a couple months went by, and not only was she still wearing the sexy outfits, but she started rubbing against me and bending over to pick things up way too often to be explained by clumsiness; which my mother has never suffered from. I started to wonder if I was being hit on by my own mother. I decided that the only way to find out was to return the possible teases and see what happened, and am I ever glad I did.It. More

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