Nothing really happens, there is no plot, just an attempt todescribe the wonderful experience I had one night as a youth.Our winters are somewhat mild...here in Kentucky but we do occasionallyhave a small blizzard or ice storm. One of the later fell one Januaryday when I was twelve. The roads were impassible for three wonderfuldays and school had already been cancelled. In anticipation of thestorm my mother had bundled me and my brother up and taken us to hersister's house. My mother was always. A few tongue swirls around the head, and she started the process over again, using long, drawn out full-length strokes, all the way in her mouth, almost all the way out. She was moving so agonizingly slowly that I could remember each stroke ten times for every time I actually felt it. Every time she sensed me starting to get close, she would simply stop, holding my cock gently in her mouth, until I calmed, then she'd start the same tortuous routine over again. It was without a doubt the. More

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