Still, instincts kicked in. I ran my hands along mom's thighs, under the shirt as she arched back into me. I reached between us, as if to adjust mysel... to get more comfortable, but rested my hands on the sides of mom's sticky groin."We're just riding together now, remember sweetie," mom pleaded as my hands traced along her camel toe. After one more bump, though, I made a decision.As mom returned to my lap from the last jump, I yanked her swim suit to the side. My cock head jumped as it touched. “I want you on top of me now, “ you say in your deep voice that’s used to giving orders.“Nah, thanks.” I admittedly borrowed that line from my bratty elder teenage daughter who perfected it in the last year or so. Of course, you don’t know her, yet so my little plagiarism remains my secret. When she says it, answering back - when I ask her to do something - it makes my blood boil. I’m aiming for a similar effect here, a kind of rage that can only be tamed by the ropes around your wrists.“I have. More

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