My mouth went to the hollow of his clavicle to partake of the little puddle of sweat. He said, "Mr. Pratt, can this be the last time?" "Of course Dan...y, of course." In spite of this exchange we both knew that in exactly one week he would be standing in this garage awaiting me, awaiting his just pleasure. When my knees hit the cement floor I went to work. I had to be relatively quick about it because my wife Cindy was inside watching TV. He was only nineteen but he was a big boy and I knew. "Amanda, may I have that mandarin housecoat you gave me last Christmas? That's a dear," said Joan as she unhooked the leash from Amanda's collar. She watched the woman leave the room to fetch the coat. She wanted to lie back on the zebra couch and have Amanda lick her pussy. But she just could not get relaxed into the feeling of the prickly hair of the couch cover on her bare skin. She wondered how Amanda could stand it.Joan looked around at the portraits of dogs on the walls. A huge painting. “Billy?” she whispered.He turned and opened his eyes, looking at his mother. He started to grin, but saw the expression on her face. There was something there that made him stop grinning. If he grinned, he felt his mother would leave, ashamed. Joan stepped into his room, her eyes on his upstanding cock. Billy saw his mother’s tits through the filmy gown, the narrow waist, the flare of her hips and the long, long legs. The shadow of her dark cunt hair could be seen. His cock throbbed, bubbling. “That night we died... That Halloween when we had sex for the first time... for the only time... on that night, your bra and panties matched. And they were new and soft and shiny. Does that mean...”“It means that you have nothing to feel guilty about,” Nancy said softly but firmly.“I think maybe it’s time we moved on,” David said, taking Nancy’s hand.“There’s something I want to do first,” Nancy said, “... something we both need to do first.”“What’s that?” David replied.“Have you realized yet.
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