-----"Can I call you?", your email says. I think for a few minutes, and then burn my boats. "I'm sorry. Would you be hurt if I said no?" I spin some t...le about security, paranoia and broken rules, but in truth I'm ashamed to let you hear my voice, which is way too low.-----The queue at the ticket-office is long and slow-moving. The vaulted ceiling of the tall foyer amplifies sound, but no one is talking -- only the click of heels on the marble floor as another theatre-goer leaves the desk and. Joyce could feel the perspiration as well as Dawn moved faster, the teen's skin heating up and secreting little drips of salty sweat. The tears of salt slid down and onto to Joyce's flesh, covering her in the sheen of her daughter's sweat. Dawn was starting to move faster and faster, her body rhythmically slipping up and down her mom's, both cunts grinding together in a slick embrace. Joyce could feel the excitement building up, higher and higher, an avalanche of excitement. The orgasm hit her. More

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