Quiet at first, Mom began to moan again, and her legs even parted a little, giving me better access to the muscles. It was all I could do not to move...higher still. I wanted to seek out the source of the warmth I felt – to see if the dampness of her panties I breathed deep of each night was real.“Thank you, honey,” she suddenly said when the tip of one finger crept past the top of her stockings, to the soft, bare skin above.“Did that feel good?” I asked. Almost immediately, my heart. I curled my legs under myself and sat there in a sideways pose between the two of them as they chatted away in Afrikaans. I was given a few bites from her hand, sweet chilli shrimps, salmon bites on brioche rolls, some melt-in-the-mouth chicken tikka skewers and for dessert - because she knew how much I liked fruit, - a few honeyed figs and a miniature blood orange tartlet.“More.” I looked up at her, begging with the honest desire of a hungry kitten. With my face-painted button nose and. More

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