Kamasutra – The Poetry Of Sex

“Once Kevin had had enough (drink and nude women), evidenced by his difficulty standing up or walking straight, while expressing bleary and extravagant love for me his brother, I bade farewell to the revellers and took him back to the hotel, where after the necessity of a time worshipping on his knees at the ceramic temple in the bathroom and giving his offering, I put him to bed.”She looked puzzled for a moment and then laughed. “I get you!” she cackled. “I never heard it called a ceramic. I would reassure her that I would never destroy the special thing we had. That would ease her guilt and worry enough to allow her to continue satisfying our sexual needs.Well, the day had finally arrived. I had an appointment to have my casts and knee brace removed. I could hardly wait for the freedom restricting lumps of plaster to be gone. Mom helped me out of the bed I had been imprisoned in for these past five weeks. I leaned heavily on her shoulder and grabbed a quick hand full of tit as I. She was sprawled on my bed, wearing a long flannel nightgown (her normal sleep attire), while I was comfortably ensconced in a pile of throw pillows on the floor. At my semi-irritated remark, she rolled over to the side of the bed and looked down on me."Well, almost anything," she said lazily. "Not our waterfall conversation, but just about everything else." 'Waterfall conversation'? That gives new meaning to the phrase 'body language'!"She had the grace to blush. "It was a valid form of. Unless, of course, you ask me to pee on you, then I will happlily oblige." and I grinned at her. She looked at me in silence, shook her head and walked to the shower. I went to Amys bathroom and asked if she wanted to join her mother and I in her mothers shower. She squealed in delight and I didn't have to ask twice. Naked she ran down the hallway to Brendas room. I watched her ass, not a bounce or jiggle, what a tight ass, and not for the last time did I rue not being a teenager.The shower was.
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