I wasn’t going to last long at this rate.“Where ... do you ... want me ... to cum?” I grunted.She slowed down. “Oh ... I want it ... but ... u...m...” She didn’t stop fucking me, though.“Are you on the pill?” I prompted, trying to get her brain working.“Yes ... yes...” she moaned, and renewed her thrusting.Finally, I grabbed her in a bear hug, holding her tight and burying my face in her neck as I came.“Oh! Oh God!” she cried out as she felt me spurting inside her, and then she came herself, her. Now I sort of barely remember her giving me a bath when I was little. Like any good mother does, until the child can do for themselves. It might even be one of my earliest memories. This bath, as I washed her, would be etched in my brain until I drop dead, maybe it might be the last thing I remember?There is both a sense of power and humility to wash another person. When combined with the sexual overtones, that were not at all subtle or surreptitious, but outright blatant and encouraged by. More

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