She continued to hold my hand to her breast squeezing slightly; I took her other hand and brought it down to my hard cock. She moaned and said; “wel..., you do seem to be ready for some action nephew.” Her hand tried to circle around my prick, again she murmured, then started gently stroking me up and down, then peeling my foreskin back, freeing my cockhead. She rubbed her thumb and forefinger around my mushroomed shaped head, her fingers finding the sensitive rim, sending spasms. I fumble with your jeans buttons (you used to have zip-fly ones) fingers anxious to clasp what’s beneath. I’m pushing my breasts into your searching hands and appreciatively against the wall of your chest. I can’t hear what you’re attempting to whisper for the roar of blood and desire in my ears. Your mouth is so very close to my face, that’s all that matters. One eager hand hurriedly undoes the top button and pushes it’s way down the front of my jeans. They stretch to accommodate your big. More

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