The sight of all this excited me so much that I automatically, without thinking, put my hand in my pyjama trousers and started stroking my hard cock. Indian porn sex But as I’d expected, through that keyhole all I saw was the housekeeper snoring under her blankets – far from exciting. I saw very little of my mother herself. To compensate for her absence, she regularly bestowed me with expensive gifts. Sometimes the sex action in my mother’s bedroom went on for so long, that I jacked off so many times after each other that the next day my dick was sore. I was quickly ready to come, when suddenly I heard the voice of the housekeeper at the bottom of the stairs. I found that hard to imagine. As far as I’m aware this way of growing up wasn’t a traumatic experience: I didn’t know better than that all children were raised by nannies and I certainly liked all those gifts. That I began to get so addicted to peeping at my mother while she was having sex with herself or one or more men, started to unnerve a little at a certain point. . I wished that it were me in her bedroom instead of that biker.
