I pulled the contracts from the drawer and started to search for conference room twelve. *** “You’re not Melinda.” The words hit me with a verba... slap the moment I stepped my foot into the room. The two of them were seated next to each other on an expensive looking leather sofa with a low, dark wooden table in front of it. They were both, if I dared a guess, in their late forties. He was tall and muscular, wearing black trousers and had the upper two buttons of his white shirt open. His hair,. He soon found his eyes drifting down to his mother's bum, those beautifully shaped globes encased in the taut lycra shorts just inches below where his hands were working. Abruptly he averted his eyes as he realized his prick was beginning to stiffen. He felt a bit odd, not really ashamed or guilty but just...odd, that despite having masturbated a short while ago his youthful cock was beginning to reharden whilst he massaged his mother! He shrugged it off with relative ease though. Even though. More

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