(Her temperament and mine were oil and water, our split having nothing to do with my Oedipal hang up.) Mom, called Cassie, and my father had divorced... when I was twenty-two. [Not out real names] She is presently a fit 53.Mom reminds me of Diane Lane in a recent movie, only with a strawberry-blond color. Natural too! I'm sure of that, I have the proof of the pud-ding, so to speak. I'm getting a little thick, but still athletic. I jog, mom goes to a gym. Though now days, we have a way of. But I wanted it. I needed it!I walked in and my friend was at the counter. I've never seen a biker blush, but he did when he saw me come in. I tried to be casual as I told him I needed a room and laid my money on the counter, but I felt as giddy as I had as a teenager on the first time I got to play with a girl's boobs. He took my money and told me to take room three, my usual room.I had a throbbing hardon before I even got to the room. I wasn't going to need a video to get me in the mood. . I looked over and it was clear she was enjoying his attention, which for the first time I was a little uncomfortable with. They were giggling, and seeing his hands around her waist every so often made me feel horrible inside. His hands would then venture onto her hips, and when she turned round every so often he would glance his hands across her bottom. All the time she kept her posture, and those wonderful breasts were forcing themselves against him, teasing him when he pulled her close to. You're not sure you want her to obey. It's clear by your lascivious grin and hardened manhood that you're not in the mood to take it easy on her.You grab her by the arm and force her to roll back."You will do as you're told, slave," you say. "If not, you know what'll happen."Felicity makes eye contact with you. You see a mixture of fear and resentment, but a resolve to obey in those eyes as well.As you touch your fingers to her warm, soft lips, Felicity closes her eyes."Open up," you.