You can feel my aching clit, and flick it gently with your thumb. When you feel that I can take much more, you pull me up so I am on my knees, one of ...our hands is tangled in my hair, pulling it. The other hand releases your hard, throbbing cock and you push my head down so I can take it in my mouth. You hand on my head controls what I do, and you let me lick and suck at you greedily before I find myself rhythmically moving up and down, my hands cupping and fondling your balls and sliding up. I'm sure dad was not happy about it. After dad died, she never kicked me out. For me, it was normal and it never felt odd. I always loved it when mom would hug me while we watched TV in bed. I felt safe and comfy. She was the big spoon with me bundled up in her arms as the little spoon. By the time I was in high school, I had grown taller than her. I had joined the football team and my friends and I started weightlifting. Mom and I started alternating on who was going to be the big and. More

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