. Ralph Taylor arrived at the weed-choked, slumlike house of the postal employee Steve Samuels at eight-thirty that night, carrying a huge case which ...ontained his Polaroid camera, timer, and tripod.The venereous civil servant let him in with an expression of excited anticipation, and led him down the hallway into the living room. Samuels had made an effort to tidy it up somewhat, but the room still had an air of musky staleness, a look of cluttered squalor. He offered the automobile executive. She picked up the skirt of her dress, pulled down her panties and sat on the toilet. "Come over here, sweetie," she said, smiling. I moved over to stand in front of her. She pointed to the floor in front of her. "On your knees," she said. I knelt down. She spread her legs and I was looking right between her thighs, seeing her pussy. I had told everyone yesterday about one of my strongest fantasies and desires - to be in exactly this position, on my knees by the toilet, with a woman about to use. He tells me that he wants to bend me over and fuck me right here. I asked what's stopping him. I took my towel off, leaned over the sink and put my ass out in the open for his access. Sandy spread my legs with his, slid his hand in between my legs and began to finger my clit. I moaned as he slid up and down my folds of moisture. Sandy and I moaned as I came on his fingers. Sandy then got on his knees and began to lick my pussy. I squatted down to sit on his face. Sandy grinned as my cum. "Tell me more, Timmy, tell me how I make you feel," spoken softly, faintly. The silence was electric. She was leading him on, drawing him out. Bill sensed she was laying the bait. "It's OK, I like you too." She sat up and moved over to his side of the couch, and reached her arms around him, drawing the little boy close. "Mommy likes her little boy," she said as she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.Oh God! The words and the sound of her voice brought the memory of Mrs. Johnson alive in Bill.
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