Down stairs once more Wally was still sending them home, she’d never have realised that he snored so deeply. His cock still jutted out before him like a rampant horse on heat, Hazel kneeled in front of him once more taking the gel and rubbing it all around the thick shaft, her own blood was starting to boil, what if he woke what could she say. Again Wally let out a sigh of appreciation with a slight wriggle adjusting his position, Hazel had covered the whole of the shaft with a little to spare which she quickly lifted her skirt and massage it around her pussy lips. And then lowed her panties stepping out of them, drying her fingers on the soft material before dropping them onto the floor, and pushing them under the settee.Hazel lifted herself astride him leaning forward she kissed his forehead. “Well let’s see as to what a mess I can make of this Dad?” she whispered under her breath.With her hand between her legs she took hold of the thick cock, “God Dad, its might as well be that of. .. for an hour and his prick stiffened. He also felt his cheeks get hot. "Um ... yeah, I could do that." Good, because ever since Saturday I've been wanting to do ... more."Robby felt a little faint. "More." he repeated."Yes ... more." said his mother.He got up and went to his room, where he tried to think about his homework assignment. How could he possibly write a poem when all he could think about was his mother's body? The curve of her breasts, with their up-looking nipples, looking like tiny ski jumps or something.He stiffened. Wait a minute ... what if...He sat down and picked up his pencil.Thirty minutes later he laid the pencil down, undressed, put on his robe, and went to find his mother. She was in the living room, wearing her robe. This time it didn't bother Robby to see her in it."I'm done." he said. "We can paint now."She got up and stretched. The robe was tied tightly, but her breasts thrust out, pushing the silk toward him. "What did you write your poem about?" she.
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