“Don’t make yourself come,” she moaned, fingering her pussy a bit faster. She stroked the inner thigh of her leg with her other hand. “Don’t... come yet, darling.”“I might, Mom,” he said, jacking faster. “I don’t know if I can keep from coming.”Lisa pulled her finger from her pussy, brought it to her face. She poised her finger toward her lips.“You don’t know me very well, baby,” she said. “You only know me as your mother. I’m unusual, to say the least. I may not want to stop just fucking you. I have no kids. Rose has a daughter named Martha from a previous relationship. Though Martha was three when Rose and I got together, I always looked at her like a daughter. I miss them both. My fault really. I’m not getting into that now though. Anyway, business brought me to the city. I stayed at a cheap hotel near downtown. I knew some of the guys referred to this as the “Rub and Tug Hotel”, though I didn’t know why. Truth be told, that’s why I decided to stay here. As I arrived I. I wore short dresses to the laundry room, tiny pleated skirts, tight little pajama shorts that showed my pussy lips and the crack of my ass. Sometimes I wore lingerie: thigh highs, tiny lace dresses, fishnets, push up bras that thrust my tits out and exposed the tops of my nipples. I felt so dirty, dressed like a whore, my clit pressed against the dryer, my fingers in my pussy, cumming in public. One night I wore a tiny, very short lace dress with an even tinier pair of red panties, so the. Then I took courage that this must be my only opportunity to be enjoyed. I went and took bath I started wearing my favorite black synthetic saree . when I tied I felt like he was helping me wear the saree. When I tucked it in the belly I felt it should be his hands.Then I dried my hair with towel. Then bell rang. The service boy gave me the flowers. He saw me in black saree with wet loose hair with towel in hand. He got bulge it seems. He told after k**s sleep you have to go to room number 105..