Instinctively I rubbed the swollen teat between my thumb and forefinger...... Trent and I shared a remarkably quiet dinner that night, exchanging ...ittle more than polite conversation and forced pleasantries. I seem to recall a minimum of direct eye-contact. In the coming days I found my mind replaying this close-encounter and each time I could not deny a pleasured reaction. Just the thought of a young boy seeing his mother masturbate - as so surely he had, was turning me on unbearably.. She rolled on her side, her fingers continuing to slither through her pussy. 'He was just showing off, cocky bastard. The next time I see him, he'll probably say something lame like "nobody punishes you but me". He's possessive enough as it is, I don't need him fighting my battles for me.'She then pulled the blanket of her bed over herself, finding something comforting in the weight on her body and the way it rubbed against her when she moved. 'Not to mention it was his fault that I'm in this. More

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