“Of course, Lauren. Erm, how much?”Lauren said an angry, “Huh! Not with money but with your bottom.”“My bottom?” I asked in total surprise...Lauren stormed past me and into my dining room. I followed her, feeling unsure and apprehensive. Then I saw the wooden-backed paddle hairbrush she put on the dining table. She turned a chair into the room and sat down, then picked up the hairbrush again and pointed it at me. “Get your trousers and underpants down and get across my lap so I can make you. But no sooner do my fingers touch the throbbing, pulsing spire of meat than I hear a tapping heel at my bedroom door.Silhouetted in the light from the hallway outside, stands my mom. Those beautiful, long, tanned legs glimmer beneath a sheen of baby oil, from the tips of her cute little toes in their white satin slippers with the three inch heels, all the way up to the generous curve of her ass, peeking out from underneath the ruffled hem of her... dress? The skirt is tiny, less than 3/4 of a. More

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