The only thing stopping me at this point, were my jeans and boxers and the prettiest pair of black lace boy shorts. I unzipped my fly, fished out my cock, and pulled aside her already damp panties. I only hesitated for a moment, feasting my eyes on the bedewed lips of her obviously hungry cunt. “Don’t torture me! Shove it in!” she demanded, arching her back and pushing against me. Amazed at the ease with which I slid inside, I thrust forward, burying my shaft to the hilt in her warm wetness, groaning as I did so. “Oh god! Yes! That feels sooo good!”, she groaned as my balls bumped against her soft round cheeks. I reached up under her blouse again with my right hand, slipping inside the soft cup of her bra. Her breast was warm and pliable as my fingers plucked at her stiffened nipple. My hips rocked to and fro, my cock sliding in and out, soaked in her juices. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, she handed it to me, saying, “Here! Ride me like you own me!” I took it, pulling it, and her. I also feel he was trying to be a father figure to me as well. I did feel her mother began to act a little too friendly with me, especially when we were alone. Of course, I may have misinterpreted her actions as something more than motherly. I will save the telling of that, so it falls in chronological order. Little sister began to adore me to the point that Andrea showed her jealousy by trying to keep us apart. The big miracle was little brother, Sheridan, who began to accept me as one he could come to for help and assistance when his father was not available. They all seemed to make room for me to be a part of the family.There was a problem with my spending my week-ends with the Logins...my mother. On more than one Saturday or Sunday I came home to find her drunk. I searched everywhere but could not find her stash of liquor. On these occasions there seemed nothing I could do but take her to bed and give her what she wanted. Still I wanted to find another way.My first.
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