"I like being call Mom by my own k**s, so please feel free."A big lump formed in my throat, to go along with the huge hard-on this woman had given me....The head of my cock thrust itself above the waistband of my shorts, seeming to have a mind of its own."Oh, my", Sara groaned, "we'll take care of that problem, too."I turned my head and looked up at her as she, once again, sat on the edge of the couch, her hip in firm contact with my own, her lustful eyes meeting mine."Did that bother you. As luck has it we are seated quite close during the dinner so we are able to make idle chit chat. I am engrossed in a discussion about photography with her husband when I feel my kilt moving under its own volition. I realize my temptress is nowhere to be seen. Petite hands brush against the exposed skin under my kilt. I try and suppress my surprise and glimpse under the table, she grins at me. Thankfully the long table cloths prevent anyone else seeing under the table as she is reaching up. More

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