I wandered over. She was sitting at the kitchen island, looking very drunk, relaxed and with a huge glass of wine in front of her. She ran her fingers...through her long thick hair, and invited me in, I sat on a stool beside her. She leaned over, her boobs in a low cut top pressing against her to spill out. Her legs were crossed showing some very nice thigh. Open for business, I suspected, but only a few more glasses of wine would tell.She kept leaning toward me, showing some beautiful boobs. And. To hell with the consequences. To hell with everything except to know that girl.Crazy, yes. Assuredly insane; for what cunt, regardless of her motherhood is worth a damn? Every cunt in order to become a mother had to fuck somebody somewhere. And the very act of her fucking pronounced her own weakness of the flesh, her own need for cock, her own inability to refuse a prick. So why be taken by a mother feeding her little child?Yet I went to her. I sat on the beach near her, studied her lovely. More

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