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They sat at the table, smirking at me. Like my first impression, they were two young punks, dressed in boxers. They were smaller then me, younger then...me, and if they thought they were gonna hog me, they were about to find out different."Where's my fucking shit?" I said. "Where's my jeans, shirt, my fucking boxers!"The hood with the dark hair looked me in the eyes, "Bitches don't wear boxers!"That was all it took for me to lose it! No fucking teen wanna be convicts, not even two of them, were. The look on his face was priceless. He slowly started kicking and she stayed right with him, her hand, I am sure continued to coax his boyhood with every kick. When she finally released him, he kicked a few times, and went directly to the side of the pool and appeared to be hugging the side, although I knew he was pressing his now hard cock against the concrete side, within feet of his mother."Great job, next…," she smiled and with each of the young boys, repeated the exercise, manipulating. More

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