But now the realism of what actually lay before me immediately set in, with the sight of this simple hardened plastic device with shiny gold lock dang...ing from my Mistresses finger. I was visibly nervous but yet deep inside I quivered with excitement, a contradiction of emotions, the first of many, this little device would lead to many more, most notably - frustration. ?Yes Foot Mistress, Thank you Foot Mistress, It would be an honor to wear it for you Foot Mistress??What a good little slave. Oh, yeah ... so ... suck your dick son...”Betty did as she was told, and squeezed his own penis son between the lips like a wet vagina. Billy had matured in his manhood and was very proud that his cock was bigger than his father’s. However he had never heard his mother do appreciations on its length nor had ever made comparisons. After a few minutes during which the woman had done nothing but suck, lick balls and kissing his son’s glans, Billy felt like fuck her. The idea of ​​riding her mother. “You stared at her all night in her dress, looking at her ass, her small tits. Mmm, you're so hard.”“Because you're stroking me.”Her lips brushed my ear. “Because you want to fuck our daughter.”“Betty, I never would.”“Why not?” My wife's wet pussy rubbed on my hard thigh. “You took a cold shower today. You were shivering when you came out. The idea of fucking our daughter popped into your head.”“I wouldn't.”“Really?” Betty moved away from me. She pulled me into the room by my cock. I groaned. One week my scooter and the other week Moushmi’s and I never knew the chance I was going to get. First week I drove and she was the pillion rider and so not much of action but for the occasional boob brushing on my back. The next week was her turn to drive and I was sitting behind as soon as we crossed the society premises I slid close to her and put my hands around her huge tummy. She has a sigh and said so you were all these days for trapping me like this. I said no trapping but Moushmi I.
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