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My hands first unfastened her narrow leather belt before unbuttoning her slacks and pulling them down. She spread her calves enough to let me to slip them to her feet where she then stepped out of them one leg at a time. She was wearing a pair of black silk boy shorts and even with them on I could smell the musky scent of her arousal.Without waiting for instruction I buried my face between her thick thighs, my nose pressed to her lips. She must have liked that as her hand pushed me closer and then she began to hump her covered mound into my face. Ms. Duro also clamped her legs on my erection again, trapping it between her bare, shapely calves. It did feel a lot nicer rubbing the smooth skin of her legs and I felt my shaft throb with excitement.“That’s right, be my good little slut. Mommy is going to show you who’s the boss. Yes!”She then slid her fingers under the waistband of her boy shorts and worked them down past her round hips exposing her sex to my eager eyes. It was framed by. The part I remember absolutely happening was very vivid, however.I remember going into the bathroom with a Sharpie marker, taking my shirt off, and drawing some silly design to further my ridicule of whatever the issue at hand had been. I wish I knew what led to that decision, but it really doesn't matter that much. What matters is I was playfully attempting a somewhat absurd exhibit of writing on my chest to argue for my point or against theirs. It didn't work out as I anticipated, though. I walked out of the bathroom, grinning stupidly as I approached the dining room table where my mom, dad, grandma, aunt, and cousin sat chatting. As I got nearby my mom half shrieked/half whispered my name in terror, and everyone immediately focused on me as I stood there confused. "Turn around and cover up!" she whispered to me, her face red with anger and embarrassment.It took a moment for me to realize what was happening. I looked down and realized the issue. The lounge pants I was wearing had a.
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