.I very unwillingly dropped her to her bungalows outhouse flat with the help of the watchman ,who himself was waiting to devour her any moment…I made her sleep in her bed and put the blanket on her and was leaving…..”sam your a nice man,I like u..” I was taken aback, was she awake or was I hallucinatingThe next day about 12 pm- “hey hottie,your amazing can we meet for a coffee this evening,yours swatika”I was taken aback with her msg on a social tool for chats…”I am game but only coffee”“Sure you will be safe and no problem will come to you..Just coffee”I was smiling and as the time passed by I was getting nervous to meet her-she met me at the said venue much before time and we greeted each other with a tight hug,more from her side..as she hug me hard all she said was “thank you for yesterday, you could have done anything with me in that state ,but you are a true man”“In other circumstance I would have been giving u pleasure of great sex but then I don’t do drunk a unconscious women. “I was fucking terrified the first time. Just had a quick feel of her tits and a look up her dress. Then, when she didn't wake up I got braver and put my hand down her bra. Now I do what I like. Most days she’s more or less awake but once or twice a week she gets completely out of it.” As he’d been talking he’d come round to the side of the sofa and he flipped his mother’s skirt up round her waist. Not that “waist” was too accurate as Mrs Miller was carrying a lot of weight. What was exposed were a pair of large white cotton knickers pulled high over a large belly but my attention was on the bulge below that. Tommy pushed his mother’s legs together hooked his fingers at either side of the top of her panties and started to tug them downwards. This was a million miles from the glamorous women in the tit mags. No silk underwear or stockings - Tommy’s Mum was wearing greying cotton knickers that had a small hole near the elastic at the waist and, incongruously, she was wearing one pink.
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