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Tamara lay in her bed that night. She could still taste Greg on her lips. Her mind was awhirl with fantasies of what they could do to one another, where and how it would feel. Her hand crept across her flat stomach and eased underneath her panties. Her fingertips caressed the close cropped rectangle of hair she’d trimmed just yesterday in anticipation of this past evening. When her finger tapped her clit, she felt a tingle and closed her eyes. “Mmmm,” she moaned to herself. Her finger descended and parted her lips. She was wet, remembering how Greg’s finger felt as it slid into her. Her other hand cradled her breast, squeezing and bahçeşehir escort teasing her hardening nipple. She pushed a finger inside herself. “Ahhh,” she moaned, maybe a little too loud. There was a knock and her mom pushed the bedroom door open. “You awake, baby?” Tamara sat bolt upright. Did her mom hear what she’d been doing? Was she busted? Tamara concentrated on her voice, making sure it was steady and low as if she’d been asleep. “What, Momma?” Her mom came in and closed the door behind her as if there was someone else in the house, though there wasn’t. Maybe kayaşehir escort she just didn’t want the light from the hallway to illuminate them. Her mom crossed to the bed and sat next to Tamara. “I wanted to talk to you,” her mom said. “I know that Greg left a little while ago and I just thought it’d be a good time for us to chat a moment.” “Okay,” Tamara said rubbing her eyes as if she’d been asleep. She could smell her delicious pussy on her fingers. Her mom patted her thigh and seemed to be waiting, or staring, though it was almost too dark to see anything. başakşehir escort “Well?” her mom finally said in a deep, sultry kind of voice. “Well, what?” Tamara was a little confused. “C’mon, girl.” Her mom poked her side. “You’ve got to understand, your momma hasn’t been with a man in a very long time.” Tamara understood now. The talk the other day, the one where they’d eventually talked about the size of Greg’s cock. It was starting to make more sense. Since her dad had died, her mom hadn’t been with another man. They’d moved back to the States, but her mom was without a companion. Sympathy blossomed in Tamara’s heart and she suddenly felt like a rotten child because she hadn’t considered her mom’s needs as a woman. “Oh,” she said. “What do you want to know?” Her mom’s hand went back to her thigh. “I don’t know,” she said. “Are you gonna make me ask you questions or are you going to just tell me what you did?” Tamara could feel her face redden, the blood rise to her cheeks.
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