He dipped one and then two fingers into her moist pussy and moved them around for a minute before pulling them out. He held them up to show his friend...s how wet his fingers were.Inga asked, "Do you know what that is?"Steve shook his head.Inga brought his hand to her mouth and sucked one of his fingers clean. She said, "That is my body's natural lubrication. My body makes that so that it won't hurt me when I get fucked. Getting fucked would be painful for me if my pussy was dry. Your body makes. I tried again."We meet up with Mort's sister, and everything was going well. I backed off to give them some space to talk, then this van pulled up and these masked men grabbed the two of them, and then the van sped off. I tried to chase them but I couldn't do much on foot. I managed to get the number plate though," I said."Oh my, do you think that her sister planned this?" Mum asked"I don't think so. She was struggling just as hard as Mort. Someone must have followed her, and been prepared to. It became a part of my bedtime routine. I repeated the same steps every night for months: the shower, relaxing in the hot water after washing, the hardness of my dick, lying on my stomach, my mother's smile and her hand reaching, the rubbing, and 'The Itch'.After the shower confrontation, my mother behaved differently towards me. She had dominated nearly every aspect of my life, but when I stood my ground now she allowed me to do what I wanted. I did not notice the change for months. When it. “Hello?” I said.“Joey? It’s mom. Get dressed.”“Why? We going to dinner?”“Later. We’re going to mass.”“Awww, man. I feel sick.”“Bullshit. Meet us at St. Sebastian’s or I’m kicking you ass. No car for a month.”“fine.”I looked at Lisa. “Mass?” She asked.“Yeah.” I looked back.“It’s Christmas eve. We’re getting it overwith at least.”“Yeah, but no kid likes going mass on Christmas.”“Hell, I don’t either. We won’t have to go tomorrow morning though. More time to enjoy presents.”“Fine.”I put on some.