When she made love to her husband, the image of her son insisted on finding a way into her head. When she hugged Jason before sending him off to schoo..., she found herself gripping him tighter and holding him longer, mashing her breasts into his chest and burying her head into the cook of his neck. At some point she moved from a motherly peck on the check to a lingering kiss on the lips. Not too lingering, though. She didn't dare arouse suspicion. When he was away at school she'd sometimes sit. With the skill of a striptease artist, the towel came off and flimsy bra was slung across her pert breasts and clasped in one fluid movement. Once the bra was in in place she shimmed her shoulders, sucked in her taunt belly and spun around."What should I wear today, do you think? Jeans and a t-shirt or be a little adventurous with a denim skirt?" From a drawer she pulled a ridiculously short new, but artfully faded blue denim skirt and held it against her hips, she jutted her pelvis and stood. More

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