He wanted to rise up and sink it balls deep into the pussy his tongue was caressing. It was hard to keep his mind focused on satisfying his mom instea... of himself. Even though her pussy was the center of his attention. He liked the taste of her and repeated his actions of starting at the bottom and running his tongue up the swollen lips of her sex. He drew back to get a look and take better aim and watched as the hood retreated from her clit and the head became exposed. He immediately targeted. There is purpose in movement, even undefined, even in chance dancing. Movement toward purpose, movement in obedience to ancient music. You watch footsteps advance across windswept sands, watch purpose unfold in the sharp light of day, and in the music of sand’s endless passage you see that these two shadows have been measured by your light. Measured by the passage of time. You would obey if you could – if you were anything but a god. This is life. What are you but a god? You watch from on high. More

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