Sasha became even wetter as his curved fingers moved in and out of her vagina. Each finger stroke was met with a pelvic thrust and a muscular contract...on. Suddenly the room was filled with an erotic cry. Her thighs squeezed John's head in vice-like fashion. Her hands pulled down hard against the back of his head. His mouth and nose were sealed tightly against her pussy. Her body arched, twisted, and convulsed. John's fingers and tongue did their best to keep pace with her gyrations.It was one. And now, for the first time ever that he could remember, his stepmother was expressing emotion. And it was manifesting itself in crying. What could she be unhappy about. His father being away again? Perhaps. Even though he felt he might be intruding, and not knowing if his presence would be welcome, John went into the den and saw Sylvia supine on the leather sofa. She had her face covered and her lovely hair was spread out on a throw pillow underneath her head. "Sylvia? Am I intruding? Can I do. More

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