"You better hope that your father doesn't wake up and find out what you've come to do to me," Mom said in a normal, conversational tone while her eyes fell upon my cock. She took her reading glasses off, setting them on the nightstand next to her book.
I cringed for a moment, but then I remembered that not even a Zeus-thrown thunderbolt could wake my father right now. Mom knew that too. She knew it better than I did. How many times had she ridden my father while he slept? What else had she done with him? Had she sucked his cock and gotten away with it?
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