“I don’t see why not. I own this establishment.”“Oh!”“Why are you surprised? Someone has to own it, and it certainly would not be one of t...he pups.”“What can I do for you?” she asked.“Well, you looked miserable sitting here alone, and I felt bad for you. May I ask you a question?”“Sure.”“Why do you do this to yourself?”“What? Chase after the pups?“Before I tell you that may I ask your name? I’m Pamela… Pamela Miller.”“Glad to meet you, Pamela Miller, I am Christopher Jones. Please call me. No, I mean... how did you do this!" cried a frantic Jill. "I'm you're mother, Randy. How could you fuck your mother!" "Mom I've dreamed of fucking you all my life," Randy answered as he felt his penis slowly stiffen again. "Randy this was so wrong. You forced me to commit i****t with my own son, lectured Jill. Get off me, Randy get up!" "No Mom, this was right. You give me a hard-on every time you're near me. Like now," the horny son moaned as he again began to fuck his penis in and out of. I had one custom-fitted for her as her birthday gift, knowing that Bradley would never consider such an expensive outlay for her. He spent his money on himself.“Well, this gift means…” I lost my words as I looked at her, feeling as if my brain was mush. She had moved closer, and I looked into those blue eyes, mesmerized.“Yes, Clay?” She asked, and I handed her the gift wordlessly. She opened it and smiled softly, then kissed my cheek, her lips lingering.“Thank you,” she whispered, and I felt. The youngest is 43, the oldest 83. They range from Italian to three Latins, the other three being NASCAR kind of guys. They have gotten over their shyness in a group and now enjoy and appreciate watching me work on their friends. They will even cheer when one of their buddies gets a particularly spectacular orgasm. They have kind of a high school shower room attitude toward nudity. Normally they stay wrapped in a towel or in sweats until it is their turn in the milking que. I love being watched.