Did you want to set the table for me?"Yeah, sure. I wanted to set the fucking table. I wanted to throw the fucking dishes on the floor and throw you b...ck on the fucking table and throw a fucking fuck into your fucking ass. That's what I wanted. "Sure, Mom", I say, instead."What a nice son you are." She tousles my hair.Why can't she tousle my fucking dick, instead?Betsy comes flying into the room, dripping sex. "Is dinner ready yet, Mom?"I'll give you dinner, toots. Munch on this for a while and. She was dressed in a tawny brown cloak, the hood over her head. She wore tan sandals on her feet." "I was somewhat surprised, but I was a confident man. I did not attempt to cover myself from her eyes but instead enjoyed her seeing me. She approached me slowly, a demur smile upon her lips, a Mona Lisa smile. I rose to meet her, and she walked straight into my open arms." "Her face was pale to the point of being milky, not a sign of blemish. Skin so smooth, so soft, as unmarred as fresh cream.. More

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