When he was killed in a farming accident!Tommy was eleven then. Growing up I noticed he had a lot of his father's traits, especially his fetish for st...ocking feet. I always saw him looking at my feet as I always wore hose every day because it pleased his father and I still wear them because I enjoy them so much. Of course, being our son, I had never thought of Tom in a sexual way and so his glances and stares had no effect on me. Now, after being lonely and alone for three years and his ascent. ?Fuck my pussy? yes, I love that hard cock? fuck me harder?.? Then I hear my wife cumming. After a bit of sounds I cannot make out? A man is grunting? I hear sloppy wet flesh slapping against itself? ?Yes? fuck my pussy?? My wife’s voice is raspy? I can hear the bed and the head board again? groans and people cumming? Then people getting dressed? and the door closes. ?Now for those last seven, you up for this?? she quips. I shake my head no. ?Too bad really, but. "Okay....I'll do it." She lifted her body and pulled her french knickers down her legs and hitched her dress up to her hips. She put a leg either side of the stick and rubbed her clit quickly before gently inserting two digits into her soaking pussy. "Ohhhh." She lightly moaned as the digits gently probed her. She removed her fingers and rested a hand on each seat and slowly glided her slit across the top of the stick. "I don't know if it'll fit." She cooed while her lust filled eyes glanced. She looked out the window, as Mr. Tarpee backed out of the lot, spun the wheel, and carefully crawled his fancy new car onto the street. It could be him. It could be anyone. But she didn’t have to know, and she didn’t want to know. She had to be happy with what she had. It wasn’t everything, but it was enough. * * * You are my treasure. Violet smiled. Every note was so short, but so sweet, and so perfect. It was so simple, but she didn’t want anything more, at least not all at once. She only.