I remember Billy Joel playing on the radio. I remember her perfect white breasts quivering just a little as she slowly pulled the t-shirt over her hea.... I remember how her hips wiggled a few times as the faded cut-offs she shed inched down her firm thighs, finally falling in a small dark heap in the sand. I remember her hands, busy between her spread legs, one in front, the other behind, and how her dark hair fell to cover her face as her fingers did a dance of their own.When the song ended,. Yes it was a breast and yes there was a hard nipple: like I have. But it was my mum’s and it was also my first time touching another woman. The surprises came exponentially after that like multiple orgasms. My mum getting her own hand under Darren’s shirt to my shaved pussy. Her touch generated a sheer sensual sexual surge. The knowing knowledge of forbidden pleasure and it was exceptionally good as my wetness spread out under my mother’s gliding, probing fingers. Sleek crumpled girly flesh so. More

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