Fir doc ne mom k boobs masalna shuru kiya, 2-3 min bad unhone kiss band kiya. Mom ne apna pallu niche kar diya, ab doc dono hathon se boobs ko dabochk...ar daba rahe the.Mom halki smile kar rahi thi. Tabhi doc ne kaha- “apane aam to bahar nikalo, muzse chuswana nahi hai kya? Mom- “abi nikalti hu, jitna marzi chusate raho” Fir mom ne apna blouse kholna chalu kiya, edhar mera lund khada ho gaya tha, mai usko masalne laga. Mom ne blouse k button khole, unhone bra nahi pehna tha. Unke boobs bahot bade. She usually carried a small leather equipment bag that definitely wasn't found in Macy's bargain basement. She looked Hispanic, but on the few occasions when I could overhear her she spoke with a well bred American accent with no discernible regional color. Her voice was soft and musical, a little on the breathy side, and she had a precise, gracious way of speaking.Now and then I would glance at her; she was hard to miss, with her big brown almond eyes, fluttery lashes, a cheerful, rounded. With the shifting of his weight the boards of the porch groaned like oarsmen on a slave galley learning the Captain wanted to go water skiing. "My name's Hoisington."He turned slowly back to me, as inexorably as a continental glacier scraping Canada off the map. "Close enough."I was afraid it would be. The man was as pissy as a twelfth-hour diaper and certainly no more pleasant. Keeping my courage from scattering like children at recess took more effort than was required to lift the turret from. The woman was motionless and resting her head against the guy’s chest while he continued softly stroking her cheek and running his fingers through her hair. After 3 minutes the woman tried standing up. Her legs seemed too shaky to hold her. She looked drunk or drugged and resumed leaning against the guy with her head resting against his chest.Another 5 minutes passed. This time when she tried standing her legs were steadier but still seemed shaky.The man continued to gently kiss and caress her..