My cock jabbed against her soaking wet pussy. I shifted my hips until the head of my dick zeroed in on her opening and, without a second of hesitation... I thrust it inside her.My cock was inside my mother’s cunt.She cried out. Not like a dog, but like a woman. A woman who was in the grips of an ecstasy that she had longed for but never dared to believe she could have. Her body quaked with involuntary spasms of overwhelming delight. I grabbed onto her hips and pressed myself deeper.The sensation. Or particularly anything much. There were no paparazzi or reporters stalking us on our return. In fact, it was pretty much as we’d hoped. The tensest moment was the wait by the carousel for our luggage after which we strolled unhindered through the green channel and then by Piccadilly Line on the long tube ride home. It wasn’t that our tragic American tour hadn’t been news. It just wasn’t the sort that would justify a press stake-out or more than a few column inches in the middle pages of a. More

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