Her expression was tender, knowing, forgiving. I could not match my mother's face with hers, nor my great-aunt nor my grandmother nor anyone else. I w...ndered what it might be like to have such a mother. In many ways her expression reminded me of one I sometimes saw on Martha Jane. My eyes moved down to Mary's small bosom, and warmly I remembered the moist swell of Martha Jane's breasts and the feel of her nipples under my tongue.I asked myself if the woman who lived within that statue would be. " But Kim, you need to go into the bathroom and clean the cum off your face and hair. You look a mess. Then you need to go after Eddie." I say with a grin on my face."What the fuck are you grinning at," she angrily asked."To tell you the truth it's hard to take you seriously with your face covered in cum! Kim, you need to get cleaned up. Be sure to get the cum that's on your neck. It's sliding down into your blouse," I laughed. Kim walks into the bathroom and slams the door shut.I take that. More

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