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. Then slowly she came down to my back . As i was just wearing a towel my tool got erected . Then slowly she started massaging my chest from back..and i felt her nipple poking me.I somehow controlled myself and let her continue. Then she said ” let me not spoil my nighty with oil ” so she removed it and wore a small towel. Then slowly she started massaging my abdomen and caressing my dick over towel.. It grew to its fullest length.. Then she came to the front side.. And i saw the towel was so. I thought to myself. “For a mother of an eighteen year old son, I still looked good. I know my husband still likes what I look like. He tries to fuck me at least five times a week.” I heard the car horn.I ran downstairs, closed and locked the front door and headed for the car. My son was already in the seat. I sat down on his lap and swung my legs into the car. I looked down and notice my dress barely covered my thighs. It rode up pretty high. My son was wearing baggy shorts and a t-shirt. I. Bob Hope was always good at playing thehapless shmoe who gets dumped on by fate (like in those "Road To" movies-Bing Crosby leaving with the girl they'd both been vying for, clearlyhaving won her affection while Hope is left trapped in some degradingsituation, his expression showing he pretty much expected this...) andhere he is in fine form. There is something awkward and untrustworthyabout him; and with his built-in lascivious leer and the double entendresthat seem to spill unwittingly from. She was wearing a pair of black high hill boots that reached to her knees. I put away my lunch box and took off my jacket and went into the den where she was setting. At first I was trying to see what was under the skirt without being caught. It's more fun that way. After about ten minutes of stealing peeks I got caught. She said are you trying to see what I have on under my outfit? I acted like I wasn't and told her no mam I was just admiring your sexy legs. Then I asked where she was going.
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