Page 115 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

Normally, I would’ve worn only my boxer briefs to bed because I was so hot natured, but I hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable so I’d put on the shirt and the sweats.

Though they were thinner, which showed off a lot more of my engorged cock than would’ve been acceptable had we been taking this much slower.

“Those.” She leaned forward and indicated the muscles of my lower abs that led into my pants.

“They come with a lot of work,” I admitted. “They’re the first things to go on me when I let my nutrition get out of hand.”

Her eyes studied mine as she said, “That’s unfortunate, because they’re quite attractive. I want to lick them.”

My cock jerked in my pants, and she noticed.

Her face flushed as she said, “Pants.”

I slowly started to lower them, revealing my black boxer briefs as I did.

“Those, too,” she whispered.

I lowered both, revealing my hard cock as it bobbed out of its confines and slapped against the mattress.

Her breaths started coming in choppier and she reached for the hem of her own shirt.

“I’m not sure how I’m getting so bold, but…” She whipped it off and threw it to the end of the bed to join the one she’d taken off me.

I watched as her fabulous tits bounced with the movement.

“Fuck,” I growled as I took her in.

She was wearing only a pair of white cotton underwear, but it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

“Is that a good fuck, or a bad fuck?” she asked self-consciously.

“Very good,” I admitted. “Very, very, very good.”

Her cheeks flushed as she stood up and shucked her panties.

I didn’t know what I suspected, but her being fully bare wasn’t one of them.

I’d always heard that Brazilian waxes cost a lot of money, and not many women liked to do them.

But she was blissfully bare.

She ran her hand down the length of her thighs for a second before she said, “One thing that I got from my Native American genes is very little body hair.”

Well that answered that.

“I like it,” I replied, voice hoarse.

She sat down and scooted underneath the covers, lifting them up high for me. “I know that the door is closed, but just in case…”

I practically dove underneath the covers.

She laughed at my exuberance, throwing her arms around my neck as I plastered both of our bodies together and roughly brought the covers over us.

“The condom just went flying.” She giggled.

I’d never held such instant hate for an inanimate object in my life, but all of a sudden I hated the idea of wearing one.

“There’s more,” I said. “Maybe not the flavor that you want but…”

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