I let my pants fall to the floor, spit in my hand, and began slicking my dick. I thought briefly about using a condom but didn't want to take the time...to dig one out, nor did I want to go without leaving her something to remember me by.I spread her cheeks and I hear her gasp. I placed the head of my dick against her opening and pushed, waiting for her to open up to me and give me entrance. Finally, she did and I savored the sensation of her muscles working against me, feeling the heat from deep. Her next husband, David, was a long-distance trucker, kind of rough around the edges kind of guy, loved C&W and lots of beer. He came home early, too. I was twelve at the time and was there in the house when he came in. It was not pleasant.Then, three years ago, my mom married her third husband, Craig. I think he was the only one she didn't pick up in a bar. My mom actually bought a car from him, he worked for the local Ford dealer as a salesman.Do I sound like I don't particularly like my mom. More

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