"Of course I do. Come on in," as I pulled into a driveway at her direction.Wearily she climbed out and unlocked the door, then walked into the kitchen...and plopped into a straight-backed chair. I pulled one up in front of her and, lifting her feet to my knees, took off her white sneakers and bobby socks.I had barely touched her reddened feet when she began to moan. It was almost as if I was making love to her. Especially when I eased my thumb right up the center of each foot's sole or right. I was fifteen, obsessed, in love perhaps, full of testosterone and adrenaline. I guess I was addicted; to sex for sure, and perhaps to Jules specifically.If she’d had the strength to control me, it might have all gone in a different direction; but Jules was fundamentally subservient. She’d chosen me because she wanted to break her chains, she’d thought a boy as young as me would be under her control.And I would have liked that too. I didn’t want responsibility, I just wanted sex.And with Jules,. Sharon pulled her breasts out from her gown, and began to nurse George. Sometime today, she would get the paper, telling who George's Father was. In a way, she didn't want to know, but, also knew that the question would come up, sooner or later, and she wanted to be prepared. For now, she would enjoy the son she wanted, so much, suckling at her breast. She loved the feel of his tiny mouth pulling the nourishment from her body, to his. She felt like she wanted to scream, dance, and laugh with. She had a heart-shaped face. Her eyes were set apart and her thin brow just made her eyes very prominent. Juicy rosy luscious lips with a heavy lower lip and a simple stud on her nose just increased her beauty. She was wearing an orange and green floral saree with a matching plain light orange blouse which was covering her huge pair of soft bosom very tightly.She had slightly sagging hips which will make any man hard with a soft touch and her ass was a sight to see (no words to describe)..
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