meg and brian

“We’re going to need some of this,” she said, unscrewing the cap. “Lubrication,” she said with a smile, seeing the confused look on my face. She poured a generous handful of oil and slathered it onto my shaft and my balls. She spied the label as she set the bottle down. “Hmm…extra virgin. That’s the only thing in this house tonight that is virgin anything.” I laughed nervously. I remember now my clueless mom never figured out why her bottle of olive oil kept appearing in my bathroom.

See a post containing toodles (or pebble or craftcest or whatever else,completely and willingly ignore the ablity to blacklist images,even though thats the entire reason it's there infantile baby crying.mp3.

Despite her protests, she was much more amenable this time. A bit of hesitancy at first, but once she got used to the difference in taste she dove right back in to eating me again. I could have easily just let myself float on the enjoyment of what she was doing to me, but I made a special effort to be vocal for her, to moan and gasp, making sure she knew she was doing a good job. I knew how much Daddy liked that sort of thing when he was fucking me, and I figured it was probably even more important for Mom. I got there quicker this time, I think because it just felt so naughty to be feeding Mommy Brucie's cum instead of Daddy's. I totally rubbed my pussy all over her face when I came, too—not because I was trying to this time, just because it felt so good I couldn't stop myself from bucking my hips! Daddy gave me one last kiss on my lips, then got out of my way so I could slide myself down and lay on top of her.