Returning to the comfort of the shower, Henry felt a slight tingle in the back of his mind. As a fictional author, Henry's imagination was far more ac...tive than the average person's. Slowly but surely he started formulating scenarios involving "The Fugitive". His mind was on fire. It was amazing, but he felt as if this might be the end of his writer's block.Suddenly, Henry froze. Caught up in the excitement of his imagination sparking again, he had not realized that the house had become. She giggled at him, saying, "Surely you're not going to come to bed wearing jeans!" Ray turned toward the bathroom, but that seemed even more silly all things considered. Instead, he stood with his back to Marta, unbuckling his belt and letting the jeans down. The thin purple panties were stretched tautly across his bottom, and in front, they clearly framed his budding erection as he turned around. "Is that for me?" Marta cooed, and wiggled her fingers inviting Ray up to the bed.The mattress. She didn’t know how to start and he took the lead. “My mother’s name was Sandra but I am going to call you Mom from now on. My first memories of desire for my mother occurred when she kept giving me baths until I was 10 years old. I remember her scrubbing me all over and making sure that my little stiffie was all clean. She would wear a floppy housecoat that would hang open all the time. Finally my dad objected and she stopped doing that. Could we start with a bath?”Mom said she might have that. I see the look in your eyes like “please no not now” but yet you seem to read the desire in my eyes and I see the desire in yours. So I go up softly between your legs till I reach your panties, so you are wearing a thong, although I told you last night not to wear anything under your skirt… We need to fix this… so I move my hand a bit higher till my fingertips reach the border. I softly pull your thong down, you try to resist, your hand comes under the counter and you wave that I need to stop,.