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Enforcing his dominance.


"What? ... No ..."

"Pushing up on my thighs ... you are moving blood to my pussy, turning me on. It's obvious isn't it?"

"What do you mean? Obvious?"

I turned, forgetting my top was off, exposing a breast, a very erect nipple.

"You ARE looking up my skirt aren't you?"


More silence.

Then, a barely audible, "Yes."

"I already knew that. I wouldn't be here, with my top off, and a skirt on, if I didn't know that ... if I didn't want you to look.

"Do you really think your mom doesn't know it when you give her backrubs?"

"No ... no ... she wouldn't let me if she thought that ... You know that ..."

"Why do I know that? I'm here, on the couch, my top off, no bra, with you staring at my breasts. Your hands have been wandering all over my ass ... Do you think you could do that without me knowing? Without me allowing it?

"I want you to keep practicing. Slowly. Deliberately. I want you to pretend I am your mother. I want to know what you want to do, I want to feel it.

"And, then ... then ... when you go home ... I want you to do the same things to your mother.

"Not all at once. Slowly. Over several times. Each time, see how far you can go, how far she lets you go before stopping you ..."

He was so quiet.

"You want to do that, don't you?"

More silence.

Then, almost inaudible: "Yes."

"You want us both, don't you?"

Still more silence.

This time, he just nodded his head.


"On me.

"Now. Then, later, maybe I will share a dark secret with you. My secret."

I felt his hands, back on my thigh. I settled back down, letting myself wallow in the sensations ...

Both hands were on my right thigh, moving higher.


Now, suddenly, his left hand brushed against my pussy.

He withdraw it like it was on fire.

Without moving, or shifting, I said: "That's what I meant earlier. You touched my panties. They were wet. Proof that I'm turned on, turned on by what you are doing. I can't hide that. It shows. You can see it. It will be the same with your mom ... when you look up her skirt, or touch her, look for any sign of the wetness on her panties, or pantyhose. Then, then you will know: If you see it, she is enjoying herself, letting you do it. You'll know ... That's what you want isn't it?"


I turned.

Looking again at his rock-hard cock, bulging in his jeans.

I pointed.

"Just like that! Obvious. Some things don't hide well."

Without another word, I reached over, caressed his boy toy through his jeans.



But firmly.

His turn to moan.

"Want me to stop?"

No silence.

No hesitation.

Not this time.

"No. Don't stop. Please ..."

I shifted, to get a better grip on his toy, but fully exposing my breasts, my erect nipples.

My hand enclosed itself around the bulge in his jeans.

I stroked gently.

I really wasn't in any rush.

But I had forgotten how young and inexperienced he was.

I had forgotten how horny he had to be at that very moment.

It hadn't occurred to me that this was probably the hottest thing he had ever done with a member of the opposite sex.

And I failed to consider that this moment was a fantasy coming true for him.

He came.

So quickly.

So powerfully.

His whole body shook.

The white, sticky cum gushed through his underwear.

Through his jeans.

A puddle on his jeans where the head of his boy toy was so obvious.

He shuddered.

He shook some more.

My hand was still on him, moving gently.

He lost none of his hardness.

I kissed him.

On the mouth.

My tongue probing his lips.

He took it.

Into his mouth.

We frenched.

My hand still holding him.

I pulled away.

I ran two fingers over the pool of cum on his jeans.

I moved them, slowly, toward my mouth.

I sucked them clean.


His eyes never left my fingers. In my mouth.

Then I leaned forward, and kissed him again.

He responded. Immediately.

Kissing me.

Pulling me hard against him.

I told him to lie down on the couch.

I went and got a face cloth.

A towel.

I told him I wanted to clean him up, since I had made the mess.

He tried to stop me, as I started to unzip his jean

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