" Emily, Justin's mother, glided into the living room. She had medium length chestnut brown hair, and it was fluffy and loose, as though she'd taken a... shower and carefully blow-dried it afterward. The robe she was wearing supported the idea, though the red and black garment wasn't the sort a woman would normally pick straight out of the bath. It clung to her tiny frame in interesting ways, showcasing the cleavage of her large, shapely breasts. With each step she took, her bare legs stretched. “Fuck me!” I began to thrust, sliding in and out of her with a wet sound, kissing her and pulling her tight against me. Our bodies moved like two parts of some sensual machine, there on the enormous bed in the moonlight, every motion perfectly balanced and ecstatically surreal. She pushed me back and swung her legs up, keeping me nestled deep inside her, so that my shoulders were pressing against her knees as I hung above her. I grabbed her firm, round bum and tilted her hips upwards as I. She knew the answer. Me. Often it was evident that as some reward or sign of affection, she'd honor my fetish. She'd suddenly sit in my lap, squirm for a moment, and then run away, laughing. Once, when running from the bathroom wearing only her bra and panties, she met me (ever watchful) in the hall. Before disappearing into her room, she suddenly pointed her back side at me and bent way over. Her already brief panties almost disappeared in the cleft of her ass, and outlining the pooching bulge. One night after the usual shower ritual I heard her starting to play with herself, I crept out of my room and noticed her bedroom door was slightly ajar as I walked past, I looked in and there reflected in the mirror I could see her naked on the bed, legs apart, pushing her vibrator into herself and rubbing her tits. This is getting better and better I thought and watched as she made herself come. Wow she looked great.A few weeks later I noticed the door ajar even further and again she was.