Even though Janice married my father many years after my mother died, I thought of her as my mother not a stepmother. That's important to this story. ... should add one more thing, It was a rare day that I didn't lock myself in my room and jack off thinking about how wonderful it would be to fuck Janice. I missed my dad, but my stepmother and I, mutually supported one another through our shared pain. My father was a man in every sense of the word. His last few years had broken him down to a. You moved your bottom in slow deliberator strokes against me. Some times I thought you meant to impale your tight back entrance on my hardness and then you would move so that the head of my manhood grazed the wet opening to your fiery depths. As my fingers played with your clit and felt your lips swell like the opening petals of a flower, you reached down and grasp my shaft and moved yourself so that with each careful movement you used the head of my rod to plow open the furrow of your cleft.. More

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