Forums Coolval (+18 Stories section MY MOTHER………….(could this be love season 3)

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    williams kaduna boiwilliams kaduna boi
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    scroll down for season, 3

    click below for

    Could this be love season 1

    Could this Love season 2

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    #207703 Reply
    williams kaduna boiwilliams kaduna boi
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    Episode 1

    really not getting replies…….not happi…

    I t was a sunny and warm May afternoon as I sat
    staring out the window, trapped in my senior
    chemistry class with little hope of sneaking out
    early. Only one week of school remaining and
    then I’ll be free.
    Graduation! I’ve looked forward to this day for … well
    since I can remember, and it’s almost here. I just have
    to get through finals, and while I am a pretty good
    student, it has been difficult, if not impossible of late
    keeping my mind on studies. It seems I am
    daydreaming more and more. Mostly dreaming about
    how I am going to spend my last summer before I
    head off to college. But I’m also thinking about my
    mom. I wonder how she is going to get along without
    me. I’ve been the man of the house since my dad left
    almost five years ago and now I will be leaving her
    too. The thought is so depressing that it has nearly
    ruined my excitement over the end of twelve long
    years of school.
    Sure, Mom says she’ll be fine. She always says that.
    But I know how much she depends on me. Although
    she is still young at 37 (I was born when she was 19)
    and, if I say so myself “hot”, she doesn’t date or have
    a man around, other than me, to fix things and take
    care of the car and such. Keeping the house running
    is my job and I don’t mind the responsibility. In fact, I
    love it. She and I have a very special relationship and
    are very close—we are more like friends than mother
    and son. We have leaned on each other exclusively
    over the past few years; through my adolescence crises
    and her more important adult concerns … like how we
    were going to pay the bills.
    When Dad ran off with his secretary, he left us
    nothing, and even worse, Mom was emotionally
    crushed and for a long time I hated him for that. He
    burst my bubble of a happy family and hurt my mom
    terribly. But I don’t hate him anymore. His leaving is
    the reason my mother and I grew so close. Since he’s
    been gone, I’ve made sure she didn’t miss him. At least
    in all the ways a young boy can act as the man of the
    house. I learned to fix things, helped with finances by
    getting a part time job to pay for clothes and minor
    school expenses, and just being there when she needed
    someone’s shoulder to cry on. And she did plenty of
    that. I have a couple of shirts on which she shed her
    tears and, although I should throw them out, they are
    still in my closet as a reminder that I never want to
    hurt her like that. Oh, and yes I’m just a little
    embarrassed to say that I also have a couple pair of
    her panties hidden in my dresser that I stole from the
    hamper.
    As I said, my mother is hot, and if you haven’t guessed
    already, I have a major crush on her. She is gorgeous
    and not just because I say so. All of my buddies say
    she is by far the hottest and coolest mom of any they
    know. She’s about five-six with large round eyes that
    change from an aqua blue to sky blue depending on
    the outfit she is wearing, and they twinkle like stars.
    She keeps her dyed red hair at shoulder length and
    curled under stylishly. Her figure is perfect, but I will
    tell you more about that in a moment. At 37 she easily
    passes for her late 20’s. Some say we could pass for
    brother and sister; and of course she loves it when I
    tell her that.
    On her 37th birthday I surprised her with a birthstone
    ring and necklace. She had no idea that I was getting
    her anything, but I had saved up my extra spending
    money—seven hundred dollars—and spent it all. I
    know she liked the necklace and ring because she said
    so when we saw it at a jewelry store at the mall one
    afternoon. I worked hard to save up the money and
    purchasing the ring and necklace was probably the
    most exciting moment of my life up to that time. I had
    it specially wrapped at the store in pretty paper with a
    red bow.
    When I gave it too her she began to cry. For a moment
    I thought I had made a big mistake. But her tears
    were tears of joy. She said I shouldn’t have spent so
    much money but she loved it and loved me. That
    statement alone made it all worth it. She said she was
    going to wear the ring always. I was surprised when
    she put it on her left ring finger where she used to
    wear a wedding band. That was special to me as well.
    I guess it is time to admit that I have been fantasizing
    about my mom a lot lately. Recently I actually got the
    nerve to spy on her. I had resisted the incredible
    sexual hormones raging in me until I accidentally saw
    her undressing in her bedroom. I went to her room to
    ask if she needed anything before I went to bed. Her
    door was opened just a crack. Before I could knock, I
    saw her standing near her vanity. I had seen her in
    her nightgowns and such and she had seen me in my
    underwear plenty of times, but this was the first time I
    had seen her totally naked. I still have the image of
    her slim waist and tapered hips with the smooth
    perfect white skin of her ass burned into my memory
    bank. I don’t think I have ever seen a more perfect
    ass.
    When she bent over to pick up her panties my heart
    almost jumped out of my chest when I realized that I
    could see the lips of her p---y between her slightly
    spread thighs. And, incredibly, she didn’t have a speck
    of pubic hair, none—baby smooth. The inner lips were
    pale pink and hung between the smooth shaven outer
    lips like the delicate petals of a rose … a gorgeous pink
    rose with the petals shimmering with morning dew.
    The outer lips were puffy flesh colored m----s and
    seemed to strain to contain her longer inner lips.
    I watched with mounting guilt and excitement as she
    sat down and began to sensuously rub cream on her
    large but still firm breasts. She rubbed the cream over
    the upper portion of her breasts and then moved
    down, pausing to work it into the impossibly hard
    nipples until they were shiny and slick.
    Then she poured more onto her hands and placed the
    palms under the two large orbs and lifted and kneaded
    the flesh. I thought I heard a sigh of pleasure, but it
    might have come from my own lips.
    I stood transfixed, my eyes as wide as saucers as I
    watched her. This might sound naive coming from an
    eighteen year old boy, but it was at that moment that I
    knew that I loved my mother; but not like a son. I also
    realized that no woman would ever entirely take her
    place in my heart. I know some would say it is just
    adolescent fantasy, or more specifically sexual fantasy,
    and that a lot of kids fantasize about their mothers or
    their high school teacher etc., but that wasn’t me. I
    never had a crush on a teacher, or any other older
    woman for that matter.
    I remember how excited I was that day; so excited that
    I had to take my swollen c--k out of my pants or risk
    cumming in my underwear. I fought hard not to
    c----x, not only because I felt guilty, but also because
    I wanted the chills of excitement running through me
    to last. I wanted to watch her forever. When she stood
    up and stretched her arms over her head, I couldn’t
    hold out any longer.
    My c-m hit the door so hard that I swore she heard
    the splat. My knees almost buckled as I fought to
    remain conscious. Of all the times I had masturbated
    in my life, and there have been plenty, this was by far
    the best one. It left me feeling drained and dizzy.
    When I opened my eyes I saw my mother sitting on
    her stool again, looking into the mirror with an odd
    smile on her face. I was petrified that she had seen
    me, so I scurried away like a roach in the kitchen
    when the lights come on.
    I felt very guilty for a long time about that night, but
    not guilty enough not to do it again and again. From
    that point on, I took every opportunity to spy on my
    mother. I took big risks too. I put a small strip of
    rubber on the frame of the bathroom and bedroom
    doors so that they wouldn’t shut all the way. She
    asked me many times to fix them, but somehow I
    never got around it. Then, almost every night I would
    slip down the dark hallway to watch as she undresses
    for her bath or sits at her vanity to perform her
    nightly ritual before she goes to bed. Sometimes, if I
    am very lucky, I see her doing naughty things, on the
    bed or in the bathtub. At that point I lose control and
    I stoke my c--k with a pair of her panties until I
    c----x.
    Did I say what gorgeous breasts she has? I know I
    would never grow tired of looking at those beautiful
    t--s. Even when she is dressed I often find myself
    staring at them … so round and soft with a sexy giggle
    as she moves. Sometimes she catches me looking, but
    she never seems angry. More recently, when she sees
    me staring, she just shakes her head and smiles like
    she did when I was a little boy and got caught raiding
    the cookie jar.
    “Jerry Moss, can you finish the formula on the board
    for the rest of the class?”
    I was suddenly awakened from my daydream. “I … uh
    … I uh …”
    The teacher stared at me and waited. The rest of the
    class broke out in gales of laughter. My face turned
    three shades of red. “I wasn’t paying attention,” I
    admitted.
    “Well, at least you admit it. You had better listen up
    because this is going to be on the final,” Mr. Henson
    pointed out. “And that goes for the rest of you
    seniors.” To my great relief, that brought the still
    snickering students back around and took the focus off
    me.

    To. be cont.

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    #207709 Reply
    omotolaniomotolani
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    Hmmm dis lust is too bad o

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    #207718 Reply
    williams kaduna boiwilliams kaduna boi
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    omotolani hope all is well……..u a boss ooo

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    #207730 Reply
    Avatarsky831
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    Gud strt….roll on..
    Cnt wait

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    #207921 Reply
    Hardeywummy2Hardeywummy2
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    Another one be dis ooo

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    #207937 Reply
    SimzySimzy
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    Uhmmm let me scan first oya fire on

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    #208076 Reply
    williams kaduna boiwilliams kaduna boi
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    episode 2

    A fter the final bell, I walked outside to feel the
    warmth of the late-spring sun on my face.
    There was a gentle breeze and several
    passing puffy white clouds cast a brief
    shadow across the sidewalk … spring fever
    had me tightly in its grip. As I walked unhurriedly
    down the sidewalk I looked up.
    A wide smile came to my face when I saw my mother
    waiting at the curb for me. She was driving my old
    door-less and topless Jeep that she had helped me
    purchase for my eighteenth birthday. I had eyed that
    vehicle at old Mr. Jenkins used car lot for quite some
    time. It had sat there for months as I tried to save the
    two thousand dollars to buy it before someone else
    did. However, the present to my mom for her birthday
    had totally depleted my funds. When she said she
    would help me purchase it, I was so incredibly excited.
    I put in a lot of extra hours at the pizza joint, but
    without her help I could never have afforded it. Now I
    am the envy of all my friends. When I don’t take the
    Jeep to school—due to a shortage of gas money, Mom
    will drive it and thankfully fill the tank. She says
    driving the Jeep makes her feel young. Her car is a
    ten-year-old minivan she got before my dad left. Some
    days, like today, she comes to pick me up from school
    when she has a day off or can get off early from work.
    I never mind my mom showing up at school like some
    kids do. Most of them would be horrified if their
    parents came to school for any reason. Not me. I love
    for my friends to see my mom. I am so proud of her.
    Not only is she gorgeous, but she’s smart too. When I
    was young she earned her teaching credentials and
    taught school for almost ten years. But Dad wanted
    her to be a “stay at home mom”, so she quit. I think
    she misses teaching a lot. Then when Dad left, she
    applied for a teaching job, but due to budget cuts at
    the state level, none were available. To make ends
    meet, she took a job at a large marketing firm as a low
    level administrative assistant. After only a couple years
    she became a senior marketing executive. She says
    that she was just in the right place at the right time,
    but I know better. She earned everything she has
    gotten.
    My mom has worked hard for her success, but she
    says dressing professionally, and just a little sexy, is
    important too. She does both in a stylish way. Under
    her business suits she wears pretty blouses with lace
    and frills and not the man-ish shirts that some
    businesswomen chose to wear. Some of Mom’s tops are
    cut low in front, exposing just a hint of her cleavage
    under the lace fringe. She said she wears those when
    she needs to make a good impression on some of her
    male clients. I know it works on me.
    And now here she was waiting at the curb for me. I
    waved to a couple of my guy friends, who happened to
    be staring at my mother, and rushed over and hopped
    into the passenger side of the Jeep.
    “How was school?” she asked.
    “Boring,” I replied as I leaned over and kissed her on
    the lips. I like kissing her on the lips. Her lips are
    always moist and she has started wearing lipstick with
    subtle flavors. Actually that’s how we first started
    kissing on the lips. She told me one day that she was
    wearing a new lipstick with flavor. I surprised her by
    kissing her on the lips to taste it. From then on we
    have always kissed on the lips, and when she has that
    lipstick on it is a game for me to guess the flavor. I
    guessed Strawberry today.
    “Nope,” she said just a tad flustered it seemed.
    “Let me try again.” Before she could protest I leaned
    close and kissed her a second time, letting my lips
    linger on hers for a moment longer then the first time.
    She pulled away and said, “Jerry, not here. Your
    friends might see.”
    “I don’t care if they do.”
    “I do,” she said firmly, but I could see a twinkle in her
    eye.
    “All right, but you have to let me try again when we
    get home.”
    She didn’t answer, but instead changed the subject.
    “There’s only another week of school left. Are you
    ready for your finals?”
    “Yeah, I know this stuff. Besides, I could flunk the
    final in almost every class and still get a ‘B’.”
    “Well, don’t do anything that would jeopardize the
    scholarship.”
    “You know I wouldn’t do that.”
    She looked thoughtful and as if she didn’t hear me
    said, “I could probably scrape up enough to get you
    through for a couple of years, but I’d rather use that
    money for other things.”
    “Like that nice vacation you promised me if I got the
    scholarship?” I said, as if I needed to remind her.
    “That’s already set up and mostly paid for.”
    My ears perked up. “Paid for? Where are we going?”
    “That’s a surprise.”
    “Ah, Mom, come on, you can’t leave me hanging like
    this.”
    “Sorry, after finals.”
    “D--n,” I said, but smiled. She smiled back and my
    heart fluttered.
    I had been so excited to see her there to give me a ride
    home that I hadn’t noticed what she was wearing. It
    was a warm day so she had on a pair of white short
    shorts that left most of her thighs uncovered. On top
    was a tight jersey that hugged her breasts like a second
    skin. She did have on a bra, but it was one of those
    natural ones that gave only a tad of support … she
    didn’t need any more than that. I could see her hard
    nipples poking through. I wondered if the kiss had
    caused that. It certainly wasn’t because the weather
    was cold. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t have worn
    that outfit if she had to get out of the car for any
    reason. She apologized for her outfit and said she was
    working around the house and had been running late
    so she didn’t have time to change. I didn’t mind at all.
    She saw me staring at her hardened nipples and
    blushed before starting the Jeep and quickly pulling
    away from the curb.
    It was Friday and we typically rented a video and
    ordered pizza in. She had taken the day off and spent
    it lying in the warm sun adding to her already nice
    tan. She had been visiting a tanning salon for a few
    weeks so I figured our vacation was going to be
    somewhere with a beach and lots of sun. That was fine
    with me. We both like the sailing, skin diving, and
    snorkeling.
    “What are we going to rent tonight?” she asked.
    “We had a chick flick last week. I want something that
    has lots of shooting and things blowing up,” I replied
    with a laugh.
    Mom sighed. “Okay, but not another Bruce Willis
    thing.”
    “You know you love those movies,” I joked.
    “Well, the last one where he jumped off the bridge
    onto the wing of the jet fighter was a little over the
    top.”
    “You mean people don’t do that?” I said facetiously.
    “Not normal people.”
    “Okay, I’ll get something that’s not too violent. I’ll give
    you one of my famous foot massages while we watch,”
    I offered.
    “Mmmm,” she said. “It’s been too long since you last
    gave me a foot massage.”
    We stopped at Blockbuster and I picked up “The
    Bourne Supremacy.” A little less violent then the
    Bruce Willis movies, I figured. I had seen it at the
    theater a few months earlier.
    When we arrived home and walked into the house, I
    stopped my mother by grabbing her arm. She turned
    and looked at me with surprise. “Lipstick,” I said. She
    had forgotten. I hadn’t.
    I leaned forward and touched my lips to hers. I was
    close enough that I could feel her soft breasts touch my
    chest. My heart began to pound as I tried to hold my
    breathing steady. Her lips were opened just a bit. The
    kiss only lasted a few seconds, but in that time I
    moved my lips across hers, under the pretext of
    making sure I got a good taste of her lipstick. When I
    pulled back, I was almost trembling. When I looked at
    my mom, I saw that her eyes were closed. Her lips
    were open and I could see that she was breathing
    more rapidly. Her nipples were hard again. I suddenly
    wondered if my mother was feeling the same stirrings
    that I had been feeling for so long. That was too much
    to ask, I thought.
    “Raspberry,” I whispered, almost breathlessly.
    Mom opened her eyes as if she had forgotten what we
    were doing. Her face flushed as a pink blush came to
    her cheeks. She looked confused for a moment. “Uh …
    uh … nope, not raspberry.”
    “I guess I’ll have to try again later,” I said. I figured it
    would be going to far if I tried to kiss her again, as
    much as I wanted to at that moment.
    “Uh … yes,” she said, still a little flustered. “I have
    some things to do now.”
    “I’ll order the pizza at 6 and we’ll watch the movie at
    seven,” I said.
    “Okay,” she returned, taking a deep breath before
    turning and heading upstairs.
    We busied ourselves around the house for the next
    couple of hours. A while later I saw my mom pass my
    room on her way to take her bath. I waited a few
    minutes and then crept down the hall. I peeked into
    the bathroom from the darken hallway just in time to
    see her bend over to step into the steaming tub. I
    hadn’t seen her for a week or so and I was surprised
    to see how tanned she was. In fact, she was tanned all
    over. There were no bathing suit marks either upper
    or lower. I watched as she sat in the tub and washed,
    but I didn’t pull my c--k out of my pants. I wanted to
    wait. Our Friday nights together were always fodder
    for my masturbatory fantasies. While nothing sexual
    had happened in the past, we typically sat close
    together and I would often put my arm over her
    shoulder and let her lean into me. That was enough to
    make me excited. We always kept the lights off, which
    gave me the protection to hide my seemingly ever-
    present erection.
    I broke away from watching my mother when I saw
    her look toward the door. I went to my room and took
    my shower and loaded the movie into the DVD player
    downstairs. The pizza was steaming and sitting on the
    coffee table, along with a bottle of chilled red wine,
    when my mother finally came down. She smiled when
    she saw the wine and two glasses. She usually let me
    have a couple glasses as long as I wasn’t going out
    afterward. I never went out after our Friday night
    movie. I had no interest in going out with the boys or
    even a girlfriend when I could spend the evening with
    my mother.
    I had on a pair of boxer shorts and no shirt. I often
    ran around in my underwear; after all they were
    almost like swim trunks anyway. Mom was wearing a
    robe and her hair was wet. I couldn’t tell if she had
    anything on underneath the robe. My imagination ran
    wild with the possibility that she was naked.
    “I had to wash my hair after being at the salon. It was
    all greasy. I need to dry it before we start watching
    the movie, okay?”
    “Sure. Let me do it,” I said, reaching for the blow
    dryer she had in her hand.
    “You don’t have to do that.”
    “I’d love to,” I said, quickly plugging the dryer into a
    wall outlet. “Here sit on the floor between my legs,” I
    said as I sat on the sofa and spread my legs.
    “Wow, this is special treatment.”
    “It is. So are you going to tell me where we are going
    on vacation?”
    My mother giggled and said, “Ah, so that’s what this is
    all about.” She reached over and poured two glasses of
    wine and sat back, handing me one. “I knew there was
    a method to your madness.”
    “Do you think I’m that shallow to resort to such
    trickery?”
    She turned and looked up at me with a smile and said,
    “Yes, you would.”
    I took a quick gulp of wine and sat the glass down on
    the coffee table. “Okay, you’re right,” I laughed. “Now
    tell me.”
    “Nope, after finals. And that’s final.”
    “D--n,” I said a second before I turned on the hair
    dryer. I began to blow dry her hair. I used one hand
    to fluff it up as I waggled the dryer over the back and
    then the top of her head. She leaned her head back so
    that her neck was touching the sofa between my legs
    as she sipped her wine. I squeezed my legs together
    until I was touching her arms on both sides. I could
    feel her warmth through the bathrobe. I could smell
    the fresh washed fragrance of her hair and the
    lavender soap she had used in her bath. The
    combination began to have an effect on me and I felt
    myself becoming excited. My c--k began to grow down
    the leg of my shorts and was in an uncomfortable
    position. I wanted to reach down and move it, but
    there was no way to do that without her knowing.
    Then suddenly she adjusted the position of her head,
    pressing it against my trapped erection. I froze.
    “Mmmm,” she murmured, probably as a result of me
    running my fingers through her hair. “Maybe you
    should be a hairdresser,” she joked.
    I had to do something with my erection so I lifted her
    head and moved back a bit trying to get more
    comfortable. I almost sighed in relief as my erection
    flipped upward to a more natural position. I said, “If
    all my customers were as sexy as you I would.”
    Her response was a murmur of approval. I knew she
    liked it when I complimented her. Without a husband
    around she probably didn’t hear too many honest
    compliments. Certainly not at her highly competitive
    work environment where she said backstabbing and
    sabotage are the order of the day.
    As I worked on her hair, I glanced over her shoulder
    and saw that she was resting her nearly empty wine
    glass on her bare knee. The robe had slipped off her
    legs and had slid to the floor between them. I could
    see her thighs, all the way to the top of her hip. The
    sight of her tanned thighs was enough to keep my c--k
    throbbing in my shorts. I could see goose bumps on
    her inner thigh as I put the dryer down and began to
    massage her head. I knew there was going to be a wet
    spot on the crotch of my underwear, but I was far too
    excited to worry about that.
    I reached over and filled her wine glass again. Before
    she could move I slipped my hands down to her
    shoulders and under the top of her robe to rub her
    neck.
    “Mmmm,” she murmured.
    I slowly worked my hands outward and under the
    robe until I could massage her shoulders. My hands
    moved back and forth, squeezing her soft and warm
    flesh, digging my fingers gently into indentation at the
    nape of her neck.
    “Oh, a hairdresser and masseur,” Mom said.
    “Only for you.”
    Without my mother realizing it, I began to push the
    robe outward until her shoulders were bare. The effect
    was to make the robe part down to the belt, which was
    tied around her waist. From her neck to the belt the
    robe was slightly open, revealing the soft swells of the
    inside of her breasts. If my mother realized what she
    was exposing, she gave no indication. I moved my
    hands sensuously across her shoulders, working hard
    to keep her attention from the opened robe. I knew if I
    pushed the robe just an inch more on one side or the
    other I would be able to see her n----e. With my heart
    pounding in my chest I pushed the right side further
    down with my little finger. It slipped from her
    shoulder and halfway down her arm.
    Oh God, there it is, I screamed in my head. I could see
    an areola of one n----e, but not the tip. The robe was
    hanging on her pencil eraser sized n----e. My hands
    were trembling as I waited for it to fall, continuing to
    work into her muscles with my fingers. My mother
    moved her shoulder as if she was getting a cramp. The
    robe slipped lower and suddenly the entire n----e was
    visible, including most of her breast. I thought I would
    c----x right then. My head was spinning. Yes, I had
    seen her breasts plenty of times, but not this close. It
    was within reaching distance.
    Before I could do anything crazy my mother said,
    “Oops,” and casually pulled the robe back over her
    bared breast, but fortunately for me she left much of
    her cleavage exposed.
    When I regained control, I leaned over and turned my
    mother’s head toward me. My lips moved down
    quickly until they were touching hers. She must have
    been stunned because she allowed my lips to remain
    on hers for several seconds. I grew bold and pushed
    my tongue out and ran it across her lips, before
    sinking into her mouth a fraction of an inch. I felt my
    c--k lurch and spit pre-c-m juice into my shorts.
    Before she could protest, I pulled away and smacked
    my lips. “Hmmm, grape,” I said as if I had been tasting
    her lipstick.
    My mother looked startled and said, “I don’t have
    flavored lipstick on.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry, must have just been the wine on your
    lips” I said as I began to massage her shoulder again as
    if nothing had happened.
    “Our pizza has gotten cold,” she said and sat forward
    before quickly standing up. “I’ll put it in the
    microwave.” With that she poured herself another
    glass of wine before taking the pizza into the kitchen.
    I fell back on the sofa, my heart still thumping in my
    chest. My hand was shaking so much that I nearly
    spilled my wine as I brought it to my lips. I quickly
    downed the glass and poured another.

    1+
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Reply To: MY MOTHER………….(could this be love season 3)
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