Wow, what an understatement. My whole body seemed to warm and flush with heat as the burning subsided. She bought some coffee and we had our coffee.�...Now, let’s see about your wounds” she said. “Stand over here and lift your arms.” I went over to her, next to the kitchen sink, and stood with my hands locked behind my head. “Ouch, that looks nasty,” she said, dipping a cloth into the bowl and touching it to the worst of my scratches. It hurt like hell, but I wasn’t about to wimp out in front of. She was a redhead (her only real difference with her mother) and had green eyes with sexy lips and a round firm ass. Bea was the smallest of the girls, only four feet eight inches. She had black hair, green eyes, pale creamy skin, twenty-eight C tits, a waist of twenty-three and twenty-nine at the hips. All their lives they knew their mothers more as slaves than actual mothers. They both knew the treatment they endured and the fact that they loved it. They knew that their mothers were mother. More

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