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Mom wore her sexiest dressing gown and robe. It was a sheer black nightgown with spaghetti straps that laced up the front, pulling her tits together loosely and displaying most of her luscious cleavage. Mom's tits were much bigger than Cyndi's but were firm and round with nice nipples. Mom aged so well I couldn't believe it. The gown was complete lace in front so the clear outline of Mom's breasts showed, making no less enticing the sight of her cleavage peeking out between the laces. The flowy part came loosely down over her hips and legs, all the way to the floor, but was so sheer that I could see the shadow of her fluffy hair between her parted legs. I pictured myself slipping under that table and coming up under Mom's gown, slowly licking my way to her pussy and tasting her fragrant cunt, the cunt I'd been born through. Born into this family of lustful desires. I smiled as Mom bent over the table, pouring me some orange juice. Her breasts swayed in front of me enticingly. Mom's. I whined and tried to move closer to him, but he moved back to maintain the distance he had created. He was so close to me, but why had he stopped? I tried to use my legs to pull him back to where he was, but he pushed them away. “Beg for it, Girl” The words dripped from his lips and I sat up, desperate and wanting him to touch any part of me. I moved towards him and pulled him into a kiss. I could taste myself on his lips and I moaned lightly, enjoying the sensation. I pulled back with a whine and begged him “Please, Sir, please keep touching me!” I’d have yelled it off of a rooftop if that would make him touch me again.He didn’t put his fingers inside me again or his tongue on my clit, but he rose his hand to my throat and pushed me back onto the couch. I’m breathing as fast as my heart is beating, silently willing him to ravage me as I hoped he wanted to. “Are you going to be a good girl?” He asks me, his lips just grazing my jawline. “What makes a girl good?” The question seemed.
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