On the other side of the screen door was Colleen Murphy, the Mayor’s wife, smiling at her friend, Mrs. Turner. Then she saw Ethan coming up the side...walk and he could tell from the change of expression on her face that she was wondering what was going on.“Hi Colleen,” Mrs. Turner said. “This is Ethan, my daughter’s friend. Is it okay if we come in?”“Sure,” Colleen said, and held the door open for them. “What can I do for you?”“Well, it’s kind of an unusual request,” Mrs. Turner said. She looked. I started rubbing her stomach and up her chest to her neck. On the way back down I deliberately flicked my fingers over her nipples and shifted my hips a little, pressing my dick deeper between her thighs.I could tell that the head was sticking out past the front of her cunt and was beginning to seep a lot of pre-cum. Another minute passed and then my mother said something I’ll never forget. “Honey, if you need to release yourself, go ahead. I think it’s the only way we’ll get any sleep. Thankfully, his handshake was firm but not bone crushing. Considering he looked like an NFL linebacker, that was a pleasant surprise. However, even more surprising was his wife. Although I considered Sandy to be extremely attractive, Mrs Hunt — Marsha, as she implored me to call her — definitely gave my chaperone a run for anyone’s money. I estimated Marsha to be in her late forties, younger than her husband by at least a decade. That said, with all the creams, powders, and plastic surgery. " Yeah, but he did. You were his slut. He'd take first crack. I look like him, don't I? He has dark hair and dark eyes, doesn't he?" Yes, but many more fit that description." I knew it! God damnit, you fucking slut, roll over! I want to meet my daddy." Cindy punctuated her passionate demand by slapping my ass. The slap was hard but not delivered with malice. She still held no personal hatred of mother sluts and the "fucking slut" she blurted out was simply for dramatic effect, not a change of.