And, in one frenzied afternoon, Ron Hubbard outdid himself and fed the sheets into my platen as fast as he could type... and produced that underrated ...ribute to my kind -- "Typewriter in the Sky," of course. Subsequently he went on to found a religion, but that's a different story.Oh, the things I've seen, the songs I've played, the scenes I've sung, the tales I've typed. Sex. Madness. Despair. Exaltation. Hot passion. Cold rage. It's a wonder my battered old hulk has survived it all.And here I. I could feel mom shaking with passionand her hand on my cock gripped harder and moved evenfaster than before.Pushing her back onto the sofa I moved my lips down herstomach stopping to kiss her belly button beforecarrying on down to her smooth glistening pussy.“Yes lick my cunt,” she cried as I tentatively ran mytongue down her smooth sweet crack tasting her honey asit flowed from her lips.The more I licked and sucked the more juice she produceduntil my face was soaked. All the time. More

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