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The Bouncer sees she’s out of sorts as she doesn’t even make eye contact, and heads straight to the bar to get more drink orders that are up for her tables. The night seems to go forever, as she stays in a daze, making smalltalk with patrons, but her hearts no longer in it, her heart walked out the door 2 hours ago with John, the man she never stopped loving, who she was sure now despised her, or if he didn’t, and had time to think, would by morning. She finally walked home, straight to her tiny apartment, a long way from the swanky hotels she and John used to stay in, as she peels off her outfit, the corset feeling tighter and tighter as the night progressed, and spends 45 minutes under the hot shower water, thinking about John, about everything she’s done to him, about why he has every right to never want to talk to her again. Unable to stomach eating anything, she gets some water, and goes to her room, closing the door, and sliding under the sheets naked, laying on her back. The possibility of getting caught by dad thrilled me to no end. Hell, a part of me almost wished he would catch us. Mom climbed onto my bed and crawled up to stradle my thighs. I'd begun stroking myself again, but she swatted my hand away, giving me one of her amazingly sexy stern expressions. I throbbed. I ached. Uncapping the bottle of oil, she poured it all over me, getting my arms and torso good and slick. She'd done the same to my cock, and despite her panties being black, I could see a dark spot where she'd gotten herself wet. She pulled her panties to the side, and moved up, rubbing her clit against the underside of my cock as her hips moved to and fro. A nice, slow pace. It felt nice—no, it felt amazing. She poured some more of the oil on herself, over her tits and tummy. Her body glistened beautifully, and my tongue salivated to explore her flesh. I let out a shuddering moan, trying my best to hold back. "Nnnhm." My mom moaned, moving her hips.
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It was, he suddenly realized, the perfect moment. He glanced around the half full classroom, noting that most everyone was now seated closer to the front in anticipation of watching the movie. Sitting at the back of the classroom, they were shrouded in a gloom that protected them from any bored, wandering eyes. Slowly, never taking his eyes from the movie, Jared slipped his hand back on Adia’s satin smooth thigh. His heart skipped a beat at her quick intake of breath and then began galloping in overtime when she didn’t remove his hand. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ His hand was sliding up my thigh, inching along achingly slow, until he hit the hem of my skirt. It fleetingly crossed my mind that perhaps wearing the mini skirt wasn’t the smartest thing I had done today. The thought was then wiped from my mind as his fingers continued on their quest upward. Already, a tingling had begun in the pit of my stomach and was steadily growing into a small flame of desire. I held my breath as Jared’s hand.

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