I am desperate for a woman’s touch on my cock, my body crying for release, when she moves down and straddles my mid-section. Her lips, still engorge... and glistening, begin to slide up and down the underside of my shaft. The sensation is too much, I am leaking, the wave about to break. Not yet, she whispers. She removes her mask and I recognize her as our hostess. Her hands press down on my chest. Her wedding ring, not visible when we met for coffee, proudly adorns her finger. Slowly she reaches. A short black skirt that stopped halfway down her thighs. A red silk blouse with, you guessed right again, no bra. It was held together starting from its third button, which showed enough bare chest to demonstrate that there was no bra. If confirmation were needed of that, her nipples showed clearly as swellings under the fabric."You're looking nice tonight, Mrs Burrows. Do you have plans for later?" Stop calling me Mrs Burrows, it's Jill. Yes, we have a faculty function to attend right after. Snow had started to fall through the dwindling twilight of that crisp afternoon in late December, covering the rooftops and pavements with a light powdery dusting. Wrapped up well against the chill in my duffel coat, woolly hat and gloves, I trudged on in silence leaving a trail of footprints in the freshly fallen snow. "Perhaps we could make a snowman in the garden?" said my mother. I nodded. My mother kept up a flow of jolly and distracting conversation as she led me through a maze of broad. ‘No can you smell me not my perfume’ not understanding I again said no., she took her hidden hand and placed her fingers under my nose and I knew immediatly what she meant, I had smelt that scent last night from Catherine. Aunties hand had now found its way into my shorts and was running circles round my shaft teasing my foreskin and stroking my balls. I started to moan feeling my cum rise inside my balls, waiting for the mess to appear again. Auntie sensed my situation and stopped, pushing.
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