Mother son romance and sweet love, juicy lesbian sex

I and Thomas settled on our reserved portions of the bed and busied ourselves in private thoughts. He was probably busy with his accounts and deals. I had a tremendous day to mull over.

Alex is a prize child any woman would dream to mother. Gentle loyal, well behaved and well proportioned. There is absolute sincerity and faith in his words and demeanor. One day he is going to make a lucky girl very happy with his romantic mind and beautiful body. I fancied him using his mind and body to please a girl. His lips and his fingers composing sheer poetry on female flesh, she becoming a guitar he becoming a guitarist. I tried to imagine how his lips would work their way down from her tresses. Inadvertently I became the girl. I found him provoking goose pimples along my forehead, nose and cheeks. His lips, with infinite patience, explored their way down my soft neck and collar bone. In an ecstatic anticipation I opened my gown for him and unhooked my bra. At long last it happened, his precious lips were on my lush boobs, like a fervent pilgrim at the shrine. He was worshipping them with his lips, with his tongue. His tongue bathed my tits from all sides and progressed to the apex. After a painfully long waiting, his sweetly aggressive lips were on my nipples. I made a quenching sound of sheer pleasure. My nipple disappeared into his mouth with a primordial will, with an earth shattering ecstasy. I was mewling and writhing. Just like that I came.

Fortunately Thomas was busy snoring away as usual like a manual saw mill. He knew none of the tumultuous events in my private world. To drown his irritating snoring, I tried to think of my delightful son again. Such a delicious and precocious child. It is crude of me to harbor libidinous designs on him. Nobody will forgive me, the church, the society, god almighty- all such entities will pounce on me. But my child only had time to give me a sunny day on my birthday. It is exquisite and ever green in my memory. But then, the feeling is mutual. He loves me more than I could potentially reciprocate. Then I wondered how he may be spending the night, battling it out with his maths or dreaming about me?

Slowly I cat walked to his room. There was light in his room. I stood outside his window and peeped through the slit. He was not on his studies, he was lost in another activity. He was licking the gusset of my panties and in between kissing the imaginary boobs inside the soiled gown I had put on in the morning. There was absolute pleasure on his glazed face. After each soft swipe of his tongue on the gusset he savored the taste for some time and gulped down my love secretion. It was followed by passionately burying his face in the bust of my gown, devouring the musk of my bust.

I was immensely moved. I had a tremendous urge to storm in and offer my furiously itching boobs into his mouth and also to offer my nectar filled petals to his promising lips. But reason prevailed. I cannot and will not do it. I was becoming a beast, I had to snub my depravity right in the bud.

Please wait…

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