She would spend hours watching the glimmering box, ignoring the prophetic warnings from her puritan mother: “Natasha, that thing is evil.” She wou...d search, lurk, linger just enough to catch that magical moment, that incantatory fraction of time that seemed to warm her entire body, to set her blood aflame; it always brought a smile to her face, that extra-strong heartbeat, the butterflies in her stomach. It was her window to the outside world, her window to the real and unknown. But most of. Her short white diaphanous gown didn't quite cover her round ass, so I could see the bottom of her cheeks, but couldn't quite tell if she was wearing anything underneath. She was, however, wearing matching white lacy stockings that hugged her legs and appeared to connect to a garter. Her large, soft, all-natural motherly breasts wobbled as she struggled to reach the flour. My cock became instantly hard and poked out of my boxers!"Oh wow, mommy, that flour is really high up there. We'll have to. More

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