...I'm so sorry, Matthew."He thanked her politely as he had all the others, not knowing who she was or how she knew his father. "Matthew, I'm Hannah March...I'm, um, I'm your mother."The young man's eyes bulged like a goldfish's and he broke out in a cold sweat. How on earth did he respond to a woman his father's stubbornness had forbade him from ever having contact with by phone or email, let alone meeting? All he really knew was that she was an evil Jezebel who'd broken his late father's heart.Standing face to face, she seemed anything but evil and nothing like he'd imagined. Looks-wise she was on a par with Sharon Stone or Kim Basinger in their prime. And oh those delightful heaving breasts... Matthew wasn't sure of the protocol, whether they should hug, kiss, shake hands, or what? Evidently Hannah felt likewise, an embarrassed-looking standoff arising. Thankfully, the situation was salvaged by the arrival at her side of a petite and pretty young girl roughly the same age as. As he eased them down my legs he pressed his lips to my belly, just below my navel. My legs really did fail then, and I dropped on my bum back onto the bed. Steve’s eyes never left mine as he slipped of his remaining clothes. Then he sat beside me and eased me back onto the bed as we kissed. Steve slipped his lips onto my throat, then down again. He caressed one breast with his lips and tongue, the other with his long fingers. I felt sick with passion, I could never remember having been so aroused. With his spare hand he tugged at my panties, and I lifted my backside to allow him to slip them down, then I kicked them off. We pressed our bodies against each other briefly, naked together for the first time. At that moment I felt not the slightest trace of guilt or shame. It all felt so natural, so right. Steve continued to fondle my breasts while I stroked his cock. It was just as long as my husband’s, but not quite as thick: a big tower in a sea of downy black hair. After a couple of.
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