Eighteen year old boys dating younger girls
I was to remain in my room until I had spent ninety continuous minutes with no loud noises. She then quietly locked me in and went back downstairs while I continued caterwauling.When I finally calmed down and had completed thirty minutes of silence, she brought me a brownie, saying, “Well done, sweetheart, carry on.” When I’d reached an hour, she brought me another.She glanced at my pussy as she finished the front clasp, undeniably noticing the wetness glistening on my labia.She then moved around back and clasped the one behind before she surprised me by picking up the second stocking and ordering me, “Sit on the edge of the bed and lift your foot up.” I wanted to say something playful, but resisted, and just like the little girl I no longer was, I did exactly as she instructed, and watched as she rolled the sheer stocking onto my leg.“Some girls spend their money on shoes, I spend mine on nylons,” she replied, seeming to be comfortable with the fact I was gently caressing her legs. “They’re as soft as silk and really make your lovely legs stand out.” “Thank you, honey,” she smiled again. Did part of me want to bury my face in my mother’s pussy? I wanted it badly and I knew she needed it badly, but a slow seduction was much better for a potential long-term goal. “Mom, are a complete enigma,” I said, as I took the risk and flicked my hands around to her ass to grab the thong and tug it out of, then snap it back into her ass. “They make me feel sexy.” “They make you sexy, too, I imagine,” I complimented, “let’s see,” as I reached around her and unzipped her dress. She cupped her own tits and said, growing more comfortable about her semi-nudity with me, “These mommas are back breakers.” “I can imagine,” I nodded, knowing that was true for Elle, a big breasted chubby but dirty girl who had first introduced me to the world of pussy munching at camp. As I pulled the stocking up my leg, I said, feigning incompetence, “Shoot, I’m going to need a garter-belt for these.” “Give me a second,” she offered, going to her drawer.
Dad made lots of money as a stockbroker and insisted his wife shouldn’t work.Mom stayed home in a comfortable house, in many ways a stereotypical 1950s housewife.Now that she was divorced, Mom had no idea what to do with herself.I strapped it around my waist, then decided to try and accelerate the seduction I planned on completing today. which made me damp and I felt a slight gush leak out of me.
She clasped the first clasp onto the stocking as she explained, “Always take your time fastening the clasps.” “Okay, Mom,” I said, my body trembling at her fingers and at the subtle touch of her breath unintentionally tickling my thigh.
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