’ ‘No problem’s with that one there!’ Gemma said with a smile. ‘If only I had a man at my beck and call. I’d be set. God. I am so horny!�... Gemma was starting to get wet, thinking about getting fucked as hard as she could. Gemma was sat down on the train, with her eyes out into the Great British countryside. What was left of it any way. London was no longer the luscious green wonderland that most people had grown up with. It was full of large grey obstructions in blocks of flats or car parks or. I would regularly look her in the eyes, it let me know that she WANTED to suck my dick, she WANTED to please me. During these I thought of her as MINE. She was still my mother the rest of the time, and I respected her as such. But when she would come into my room, she was there for my cock, she was MY SLUT. She had actually encouraged this. She told me to do what I wanted, and what felt good during my blow jobs. This could be grabbing her head, her tits or her ass; it could be pulling her hair. More

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