Retrieving the bowl of fruit, I fed her slices of orange and apple. After each one, I stroked and massaged her throat, reaching down and around to her...solar plexus, and managing to sc**** my hand over the front of her breast each time. I don't know if they were but I imagined her nipples were stiffening under the bra and the picture wrought the same effect on my own equipment.During the 'meal' I kicked the baton forward until it pressed into the crux of Mom's legs. I 'accidently' rolled it. And lastly, I hope to inspire those who are giving seriousconsideration to taking this journey.The BeginningHow to begin. I once was told the best way to begin is to start at thebeginning and when you come to the end, you just stop. With that inmind, I will tell my story in that very manner. The first part of thisstory was related to me by Mother during some of our mother/daughtertalks.I was born to a loving mother and a father that was less than involved.He never did want to be a father, just. More

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