I knelt before her, raising the camera as she gazed down into the lens. As I took various pictures she began to move her arms down, sliding them over ...her breasts, I carried on taking pictures until her right hand slid to her belly, then lower, outlining the top of her legs under the silk. Slowly her long fingers moved between her legs, slowly, back and forth, around and around. ‘Why have you stopped?’ she breathed. I raised the camera one more time. Her other hand caressed her breasts while she. James smiled, leaned over and kissed her. “Thank you, my dear. But I meant I was going to show her, not actually do something to you.”Now Marta looked puzzled. “Sir?”“Do I have your permission to show her photos and a video of me hurting you after you had begged me to?”Marta continued to look puzzled, “Yes, of course, but I don’t remember…”James got up. “Both of you, come into the living room.”When they got there, James was turning the television on, then turned to Marta and said, “May I have. I was already rock hard and as I was in the influence of alcohol, I hugged her back tightly crushing her boobs.My mom realized something was different and took a step back and released herself from the hug. My mother was looking fucking sexy. My drunk brain was making me horny. She stood there shell shocked with moist eyes. She was even sexy in that expression.My mom was a fat woman with a flawless and fair skin. Though she was 46, she looked like 34. She had very big 38D yet slightly firm. “Uh huh.” “Clothes stayed on?” “Yep.” “Undies too?” “They’re clothes, aren’t they?” I smirked. “The Clinton impression cost you some credibility,” she quipped. “And no coming whatsoever?” “With Kevin?” I asked, knowing she would get the implication. “Bullshit!” she blurted, eyes boggling. “You sent him away with blue-balls and then went and finished yourself off with that jackhammer you keep in your drawer?” “Oh!” I blushed again, sipping my coffee and looking away. “Sorry, I didn’t realise it.