She pulled his head to her breasts and allowed her son to rest on them, crooning to him in low tones. She held him to her and said, “I am your woman. I am everything you want and need. No chachi, no woman can be to you what I am to you, understood?”The bewildered boy nodded as he felt the soft breasts on his face. No he didn’t understand. Mom, who was strict and so discipline oriented had in one night shattered all myths with her moves on him. Yes, he craved a woman with all those urges arising in him. But mom? She knew about chachi the previous night that much was obvious. His face automatically nuzzled the flesh of her breasts and he instinctively lipped the nipples. Not for the first time in his life, but in a very different way now. He noticed the turgidity of the nipples, hard and seeking attention. He realized that she was probably in a high state of arousal. He sensed that having made him cum she had placed his pleasure over her own release. Or was his release as satisfying. Parker’, and Mrs. Parker, a tall, dumpy, snaggletoothed woman, always seemed to be permanently annoyed with Jennifer. Jennifer knew it was arrogant of her to think that Mrs. Parker’s vexation was due to the disparity in looks between the two of them, but it did seem rather self-evident. In contrast to Parker’s 175 centimetres of menopausal flab, crowned with a jowly, orange-pansticked face and grey-blonde hair which she had for some mad, unknown reason styled in a feathercut, Jennifer was a short, slight Asian girl with hair in a neat, fringed bob. Her face was very young for her age of twenty-three, even causing her to be mistaken for under 18 when she went out to the pub with friends. She herself was allergic to alcohol, but a surly old barkeep had once called her ‘young lady’ and threatened to ring her parents until she produced her ID. Her figure was slender but not skinny, with modest-sized breasts that nevertheless looked large on a girl of her race, and her muscles were.
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