“And you are?” She asked. “I am Rahul. Her student” I replied.“So you’re Rahul are you? Mrs. Salma said you would be coming this morning. ...ome in, I am Munira, Mrs. Salma’s mother.”She took me by the arm and led me inside.“Please take off your shoes, Rahul.”Something about the way she said it caused my dick to twitch, her tone was almost seductive. She led me into the living room and sat on the sofa motioning me to sit next to her.“Why are you here, Rahul? What do you do for my daughter?”“I am. The car journey was long and I couldn’t take my mind off of the gorgeous twenty year old driving me. My mind raced remembering what she'd told me, any little detail that I could use to help me achieve my goal. To be her boyfriend. My mind kept returning to a simple two things that she'd told me. The fact that she didn’t feel like she deserved to be in a loving relationship, and the fact that she had sex with one of the re-enactors in the regiment we were part of. She was talking about who would. "I did as I was told.I unzipped his pants, with my teeth as instructed, and fished out hiscock. I did my best to suck him off, but at a certain point he justpulled it out and finished himself off, splashing his cum across myface."Smile for the camera," he said, as he took a picture that showed myface plastered with his cum.Almost immediately, the doorbell rang. He dragged me to the door andtold me to open it, even though his cum was still dripping down my face.I did as I was told and found two. I'd heard things in the past years about my mother, offhand comments by my father, words that as I grew older led him to the conclusion that my mother was not a very sexual being, didn't like sex much, wasn't much interested. But I'd seen enough, of my mother's body, often enough, to know that she was built rather nicely for sex. She was in decent shape, mid 40s, like Ginny, big breasts, though not nearly as big as hers, brown hair that darkened in the pubic patch. I'd always wanted to stare.
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