I struggled. I resisted. Finally, I went back inside, looking for her. She was in the kitchen. "Need any help?" I asked, then leaned against the back ...f a chair by the kitchen table. I watched Mom's bare legs extending from beneath her skirt, a flowery number that ended a few inches above the knees. My eyes roamed upwards, taking in her shapely hips. I realized for the first time that the women I most desired as lovers had bodies very much like that of my mother, full and curvy. How could I not. But as the conversation wore on she started to tell me things about the relationship with a straight face. Thing that made me feel bad for her. Things that made me want to make her feel like a woman. To make a long story short..... she thought he might be gay because of a drunken night she walked in on. This made me want to fuck her like the tequila nights of our early sexcapades. So the night moves on and another one of her alcoholic girlfriends (lets call her drunky) comes over and starts to. More

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