Your eyes are slowly working their way up my legs, over my stomach, my bare breasts, to my face. ‘Starving’, you reply. You walk over to me slowl..., setting your glass down on the work surface. As you reach me, everything slows down around me. Your hands are instantly on my hips. Before I know what has happened, my legs are parted, and my glass of wine has disappeared from my hand. I’m so overwhelmed by your touch. I’m flustered, allowing you to take control. Your hands run slowly up my thighs,. It was her belief that if the good Lord hadn't wanted people to enjoy all the sexual pleasures that their bodies had to offer them, He wouldn't have made having an orgasm feel so fucking fantastic. Mom definitely enjoys sex in all it wondrous variations, even today. Sex was a popular dinner table conversation as I entered my teens. Mom discussed it from a girl prospective while dad discussed it from a guy's point of view. He explained what guys needed and what they liked to have a girl do to. More

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