I need you to… love me.” I brought the pear-shaped object into view, and twisted the knob at the end of it. Not you, Mother, never you. Indian Sex Video I wiped one away with my thumb, and tasted it. Mother was elegant, statuesque and stoic, but within her was the carnal nature every woman possessed, the baser instincts of a bitch in heat to proffer herself for use. She had enough room to squat if she had the strength, and relieve herself in the bucket beside her. Mother sucked in air, her body going rigid, every part of her focusing on the tip of my finger. After the last physical piece of my lie died, I selected my war council. Her breasts stretched grotesquely, her clit extended perversely, and her face was a portrait of tears smearing her makeup, spit stringing from her chin, and cheeks flushed with agony and ecstasy alike. Mother screamed, but it was only with the expectation of pain. “Oh, you want me to touch you, don’t you?” I whispered, nearly drunk with my power over her. A reached forward, and with the lightest of touches, I ran my finger through her open slit.
