“Yes, I think so.”“Here, don’t spill on your pants,” she said urgently, handing me a cloth.“I... I come for you now,” she gasped, raisin... her ass off the box lid, lifting her pussy closer and closer to my face.I moved my head forward, feeling her wet lips move over my face as I held the cloth, catching the white cum that spurted from me. Her wet warmth coated my face as she moved herself from side to side, drawing her pussy over my mouth and nose. Rubbing my softening cock, I milked the last. But the image of the two boys persisted…and what would she say when they came down to tea…, was it better to scold, pretend it had not happened, be shocked, aggressive, understanding, what? was it all part of growing up, was it experimental, was it him telling her he was gay? She cooked tea, Sid would have eaten in the canteen, fresh fish new spuds, beans, with jam roly-poly for afters washed down with lashings of thick custard, she finished the food, called the boys and dishing up, placed it. More

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