And his cheeks in my hands.As I lower myself, kissing, licking every part of his sweaty, shaking body, I try to see more. Adapting my sight to the pal... light. His skin somehow shines. As does mine. Touch me, yes. Explore me. I love that feeling.Gasping. Damn, you are good! Let’s see what hides in your boxers… Holy shit!The taste of your salty precum fills my mouth. Running down my throat. Moaning silently. Secretly. Touch me. Slide in.A move to my left – my heart nearly stops. Or is it bursting. My father is also Beau, so I was Beau Jr. or sometimes B.J.; I hated that even more.My mother Aileen is almost an Amazon. Only three inches shorter than me at 5’11, she was always athletic and supple. Her body was…well it seemed so perfectly proportioned that nothing called attention to itself. Her legs were long, her breasts were full and her ass was nicely rounded but you only noticed them if you thought about it afterwards. I was eighteen, full of hormones and inclinations and I thought. More

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