" I could see a wet stain in the crotch of her panties, and dark wisps of curly hair sticking out. "I want to be your pussy boy . . . mommy's pussy...boy . . . please." So you want to be mommy's pussy boy," the words barely more than grunts, "then mommy's going to fuck your face with her pussy." She made deep gurgling sounds as she lowered herself to my face. She began to rub her crotch up and down my face. I could taste her juices in the wet fabric, and I could feel her puffy folds and her. It was getting colder and snow was in the air. I shivered, whether from the cold or something else I couldn’t tell. Once inside Sam’s flat I opened the wine while Sam produced two glasses. He sat on the sofa, his legs tucked up beneath him, and I dragged a chair over to face him. He pulled his hair out of the ponytail and shook it loose, fluffing it out with his fingers the way I had seen Sophie do a thousand times. My mouth was suddenly dry, and I told myself to stay calm and professional, but. More

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