She was practically dripping between her legs and even the rosette of her asshole felt excited. Her son’s hand left her breast, but rather than move...over to the other he tugged on the cord of her robe so that the sash loosened and came untied. Now he could see that she wore only the open robe, her pussy hair was a reddish brown triangle and the strawberries of her nipples played peekaboo from the sides of her robe. Then her son reach down to open his own robe. It too, was all that he wore. . Young and often older women did it all the time as money always found its way into my hands. “Thank you” I’d say offering my own impressive smile as if I was superbly glad to get it. And I was happy. I’d see them the following week and another five, ten, or even a twenty seemed to find its way into my hand or even into my pocket. I’d tell them thank you. Their hand found its way on to my arm. They’d tell me I was welcome as their hand, while on my arm, moved up and down it as if trying to say. More

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