She was wearing a white cotton robe and her hair was up in a towel where she had just washed it. As I stopped her in the hall, I reached out to her an... put my hand on her waist. She started to step back, then she just kind of lowered her head, nervously."Mom, what's going on? You seem like you don't want anything to do with me anymore. Did I do something? Are you mad at me?"Mom looked up at me, a tear running down her cheek. "Oh, no, Paul, that's far from the truth. It's just that - I'm afraid. When I told her that, she couldn't relate, thought I was nuts, or was just making it up. I wasn't. Her vagina was my favorite work of art! Undeterred, I kept talking and talking about her beautiful pussy during our fantasy "fireplay" and during that first year small changes in her attitude did appear. I first noticed it when I left a new Penthouse under her pillow and she told me later she had five orgasms while looking at it. Well well well... Had to know what triggered that! Turned out she. More

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