She caressed my brow and my hair and I could hear her muttering softly, almost to herself."That's my good little boy," she whispered. "Suckle at mummy...'s breast. Take your fill baby, take it all from mummy. Mummy loves her baby, mummy do anything for you ... anything at all. All you have to do is ask. What a good boy you are," and so on.It was all almost too much again, and I suddenly had to drag my lap and my cock away from her hand to stop myself cumming. Instantly she lifted my head away from. . I have to go to their schools... I have to go get them. I don't want them to hear it from their classmates." We'll go with you... do you want me to drive?" Michelle asked while she stroked my head."No, I'll drive. I'm okay, really. But it'll be nice to have you along... But I think you'd better get dressed first. When you're ready come on back and we'll go to the schools to tell the kids. I'm okay... really... go on... go get dressed and come back." Okay... it'll only take me a minute. Karen,. Take care of yourself.’ Call me!’ Her total contribution. The flight back to the Midwest is long and tiring. Sleep comes only in fits and starts. Each tiny segment of sleep contains a dream, each one of dad. The loving images from his early youth struggle for a place amid later recriminations, curses, screams and yes, abuse. Beloved images struggle to keep their heads above a sea of alcohol. Raucous, cheerful, gift-filled and joyful Christmases that often turned into screaming matches or actual. Even distracted, I still had just barely enough hand-eye coordination to undo her blouse, exposing her cleavage, held in by a surprisingly sturdy brassiere. It took some fumbling - you try doing this with a limited amount of experience and a serious deficit in cooperative brain cells - but I got it undone and her breasts were in my full view. Her nipples could, I believe, put an eye out, seeming to extend over an inch past the crinkled and raised areolae, and explained the reason for the.