Sometimes Mom was so tired she didn't even bother to take off her jacket or high-heels. Inevitably she would be lying on the lounge snoring within a f...w minutes of getting home from work, and inevitably her skirt would ride up. I would sit across from her for hours looking up her skirt at her nylon encased legs, the gossamer hose stretched taut around her fat thighs. Sometimes she would get uncomfortable or agitated and fumble around on the couch until she was comfortable again and her skirt. Although she was no where near orgasm, Paige still felt excited as she rubbed and pinched her pleasure spot and in response her fingers became more and more moist from the juices that began to leak onto her knickers and hand. Soon Paige was becoming closer and closer to orgasm, and just as she let out a soft moan, the doors hinges squeaked and Ian stood still, trying to figure out what he just saw. "Paige, what are you doing?" Ian asked, still trying to decipher the image which he could not. More

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