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She didn’t plan for her and her son to be eating breakfast at home today though, as she was instead filling a picnic basket with all kinds of things that would make them a really nice breakfast. Just like her son, though a while earlier, she had woken up and noticed the wonderful weather, and knowing Tim would be anxious to try his new bike, she had thought it was an great idea to take him for a small bike ride this morning, bringing breakfast with them. She was dressed in a pair of extremely tight, blue jeans, probably not suitable for a married, middle aged mother, but lately Veronica had really started to enjoy the looks she got from her son. She wasn’t just imagining it, was she? After all, wasn’t he still a bit too young to have any sort of interest in girls? Not to mention his own mother? Whatever the case, as she’d been having these fantasies about him for quite some time now, she figured it was about time she did something about it. She wasn’t too sure how long she could go. Or driving while texting, and in our mutual aroused state would not be advisable, concentrating on driving was already difficult enough...as both our minds were filled with glorious images of the pleasures to come when together. So after sending the short text you turn the key in the ignition...the gentle rumble of the running car engine, you had never noticed before now vibrating through your wet pussy, increasing your arousal even more, you are craving the sexual release of orgasm, but stay with your instructions ‘...you are not allowed to touch yourself, masturbate or please yourself in anyway...’ The drive to the location I had given to you is frustrating and agonising, though not allowed to touch yourself, you clench your leg muscles tightly trying to provide some friction, pleasure to the centre f your being at this time, your shaven soaking pussy. Though the journey was only about an hour it seemed like an eternity to you in your anticipating state of arousal and need, your.
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"Mark took a closer look at one of the photos. There was a notch cut out of the corner of each of them, apparently with a pair of scissors -- obviously, to remove identifying marks. "Where'd you get these, Gil?" Mark asked."Would you believe it if I said they showed up in the mailbox one day, with no postmark and no return address?" Gil said."I'm not sure whether I would or not." Let's just say that I've still got friends, and maybe one of them took pity on us," Gil said. "OK, this is Pham Dong village, and over here is Duc Vinh. This here is the patch of jungle where Henry got separated from his platoon." He got up, and walked to the other end of the line of photos, nearly twenty feet long. "Clear down here, you can see what's left of the fire base. It's pretty well grown over, but you can still make out some of the bunkers."Mark walked down to look at that imagery. "Got a magnifying glass?" he asked, and Gil produced one. Mark studied the fire base carefully. Things grew fast in.

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