"Daniel's kisses left Dianne's shoulders and made their way downward toward her right breast. As he moved he had to shift his body and his stiff membe... slipped out of it's warm, wet cradle. Dianne squirmed her thighs in frustration as her son's thickness left her sex. Daniel lowered his mouth over his mother's right nipple and his warm, slippery tongue suckled and swirled the excited nipple.While his hands massaged and kneaded Dianne's breasts, his mouth divided its attention to both of his. I already made her wet and I hadn’t even fucked her yet.While still clawing at my sleeve, she had turned to the young man sitting beside her—or, rather, who was slouched in the chair beside her. I could tell from his eyes that he wasn’t fully here. In any event, he didn’t respond. He probably wasn’t tuned in on her frequency anymore. He had likely brought her here because she told him she melted to poetry—which he otherwise wouldn’t be seen dead in association with—and he thought he might get. More

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