My mother was in the front row, wearing some long, loose, flowy robe thing. It certainly did nothing to hide anything, but it made her feel clothed, s... it worked, I guess. Dad was wearing a matching poet shirt and what I guess what would be called Bahama pants. His head was on a swivel, the grin on his face and the tenting of his pants clear indicators of what he thought of the spectacle. Mom, however, stared straight at me, looking very much like she had just sucked on a lemon. Strangely, I. She was cuming. Her juices coated the stranger’s cock. He pulled it out once more. Then he shoved it deep inside her again. This time they both moaned. I don’t know much time had passed. It seemed I had watched his cock slide in and out of Susan fifty, sixty, maybe a hundred times. Her body shook a few more times and I knew each time she was cuming and coating his cock with her warm juices. All of a sudden the action was once again taking place in normal speed. I could hear her pussy making. More

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