The train stops in Woking, when my phone wrang, we spoke, for the duration of most of the trip, before the call ended. Because of the delays I arrived in Portmouth 10.32am, went down the stairs, coming out of the gates, I saw her, sat on one of the benches, on her jeans and a long black jacket, with her eyes on the phone. I went around her, touching her shoulder. She turned, saw me, run around and hugged and kissed me.I asked, have you done, what I told you too?You can check - she replied.With one hand, I unbuttoned and got my hand inside her jeans. Initially to check if she had done what I've asked - to come with no knickers - but then, I've realized it was the perfect opportunity to finger fuck her in a public place, with people and camera around, which I did. I exposed her pussy to my eyes, by unzipping her jeans and pulling it slightly down, then told her to open her mouth, that when I got my forefinger and left middle finger into her mouth, telling her to suck it. With no. "You'll never have to wear one of those nasty raincoats, while you're being good to your mother."Her son was a master at stringing her out sexually. He could get her all worked up and then hold off on fucking her until she was nearly frantic. He was a terrible tease, yet she loved him for it, because it always moved her up to new heights of passion. Then he gave her a little taste of what was to come. Just a little. And he teased and tormented her until she could hardly speak coherently. Just when she was positive she couldn't take it anymore, she discovered that she could. And she enjoyed it all the more.Her son had to be one in a million and she was so happy she had first claim on him. She wouldn't always, maybe for six years at the most. Then he'd be twenty-four and likely have himself a wife. But in the meantime she was going to get all she could out of this forbidden and outrageous relationship she had going with him.And maybe, just maybe, the fact that he had a wife, wouldn't.
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