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I was coming, coming, coming, leaning over Mom’s head, kissing her hair, keeping her mouth on my spurting cock, mumbling, “I love you, love you, love you.”I was still, chest heaving, gasping for air, cock slipping out, over Mom’s lips, hands running down Mom’s back to her ass, hugging her. Mom was pulling away, her back straightening. I did too. She reached out and took my flaccid cock in her hand and began stroking it. Nothing happened for a minute or too, my manliness failing me, but then it struggled to rise, to once more venture into the breech. Mom leaned over my valiant, half-hard erection and ... drooled saliva all over it! She worked it in with her hands, then bent and drooled on it again, then again. Mom walked on her knees past me. I turned to follow but she stopped, hunched over, knees and calves together. She looked back at me.“Ben,” she whispered.“Yes,” I whispered back.“You have to do this very quietly, understand?”“Yes,” I replied, though I wasn’t sure what she was. From time to time she would hold them in her hands to alleviate the pressure, but really there was no getting around them and six minis over twenty four hours certainly made their presence known.The mini padlocks gleamed in the mirror's reflection. How she hated the sight of them. Like tiny sentries guarding her prison, a prison of python-like clothing, wrapped skin-tight around her, all the while the minis gleamed, proud, arrogant, defiant. While Dara suffered the indignity of wearing her prison cell, they celebrated, in devilish snickering tones.Dara fingered the one in front of her collar, its weight defying its size. Casually she flipped it, the mini seemed to spring to life, bobbing up and down, reverberating against her imprisoned neck, shining like a diamond on black earth, it seemed to be laughing at her.Again, tears welled in Dara's eyes, through them the mini's sparkle grew. They all seemed to be laughing now, rocking with delirious cackling. Dara drew a deep breath, she.
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"Robbie took paper and pen into Mom's bedroom and made a list of things Mom wanted. Then she and I made a list of grocery items we thought we could cook up to make meals for the next week. Robbie went and told Dad we were going to the store. He nodded."You drive," she said, throwing me the keys."Why?" I asked."Because I always drive," she said."I don't mind." I know you don't. That's one of the reasons I love you." I'm still not used to hearing you say that," I said. "Not like that anyway." Get used to it," she said."That's not what Gramps advised," I argued.When we had appeared in the kitchen, showered and dressed, with the incriminating linens in the washing machine, Gramps had told us both to sit down.He did not serve us breakfast.Instead, he sat down and looked at the two of us for a minute. Then he focused on Robbie."The other day, your brother asked me how old I was when I got my first shot of pussy."Robbie blinked about four or five times in a row and she got kind of pale. She.

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