She puts a hand to her chest. ‘Ros.’ she says, and then writes it down. ‘Row-z’ she says again, slowly, pronouncing it. The paper reads R-o-s-.... Now I understand, she doesn’t know the Gaelic pronunciations, and I can’t write in English. She needs me to tell her, slowly. ‘Los-ir’ I say, pointing to myself, and the name on the paper. She scribbles something underneath my name, probably the phonetic pronunciation. I point to my last name. ‘Oh Don-a-van.’ Another scribble. She does the same for. Michael stood, his pants and underpants down around his ankles, his mothers hand holding his cock. He waited. His cock was twitching from Sharon’s attention. He was nowhere near ready to come but the atmosphere was supercharged. His mother had to decide the next move.Sharon decided. She let him go and undid her skirt, letting it drop. She grabbed the sides of her panties and almost ripped them down her legs. She stepped out of the clothes and kicked them away Michael’s eyes went out on stalks.. More

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