. don't know. I just wasn't ready. Not yet." Oh?" mom said, pursing her lips. "It's all right. I can keep on going as long as need be." I know, mom," ... said. I was achingly rock hard from the constant fluttering of lips on my shaft, that wasn't the problem.I could feel my mother's warm saliva dribbling down the underside and then stopping to rest in the shrubby hair of my balls."Okay, I'm ready," I said.When I felt the tingly feeling of that drop going down, and mom touched her lips with her. When I stepped inside, I found the typical small-town diner that I had grown up with. The counter ran the length of the building, with swivel seats every 2 feet. Between every other seat was the required collection of condiments and paper napkin holders. Along the window side, the standard, and I always found uncomfortable booths.In counterpoint to the various sounds of conversation and eating, the tinny voice of Tex Ritter was crying about a lost love from the jukebox. I glanced down at the. More

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