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A notification popped up on my phone, “Hey, I’m here. I’m standing in front of the mall.” I took a deep breath, composed myself and made my way towards the entrance. “Wow,” I thought to myself as she appeared before me. An adorable smile on her face as our eyes met.We made our way towards each other. A flowery tube top adorned upon her caramel skin which she paired nicely with a sexy black mini skirt and black heels. She put her arms around my neck, locking me into a warm hug. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her petite feminine frame against my larger masculine body.Not only did she look beautiful, but her fragrance was also beautiful. I didn’t wish to let go of her. However as I felt a rush of blood begin to go down towards my dick, I realized it was time our loving embrace came to an end. And as we began to talk, we made our way into the mall.The conversation wasn’t difficult with her. We had been chatting for quite some time online. I felt comfortable with her and I. Matters were only exacerbated by the fact that Mom wore a robe that revealed more than a "proper" amount of her abundant cleavage. Several times she caught me staring in her direction, and she always looked back as if to say, `I know what you want, but what are you going to do about it?'Sandy was watching the whole thing, and later that day said she thought Mom was hot to trot. I'd always believed everything my twin told me, so I didn't doubt her for a second. But the problem was, how could I find out if Mom was really interested ?Good old Mom took care of that herself that very night (with a little help from Sandy!), and boy was I surprised. Since we first fucked at the boathouse, that was where Sandy and I always met. I was early that night, maybe a little extra horny with all the talk about fucking Mom, and waited impatiently in the darkness.I stripped off my clothes and jerked on my rock-hard cock, wondering what was taking Sandy so long. Finally I heard steps on the deck outside.
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I drew up outside the house, the large pile that came with my position at Jefferson’s but was empty most of the time. Tonight it was cold and dark, no welcoming lights shone in the windows, the heating was off and I stood in the large echoing hall feeling a despair that I knew would stay with me for a long time. Making my way to the kitchen I noticed the ansaphone flashing and pushed the play button. The long distance sound of my wife came down the line, asking where I was, had I managed to do some chore or other. I silenced her voice and went into the pristine kitchen that never seemed warm. I thought back to the kitchen of my youth, the hub of the house, my mother always there, always cooking. Pouring out a large measure of whisky I made my way into the living room. Again, there was no warmth here, no cosy chairs, no family pictures crammed onto mantlepieces. A cold and impersonal room that matched my cold and impersonal marriage. I switched the television on to lessen the.

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