What did she mean give her some pointers? Was she offering to teach her how to masturbate? Her racing thoughts were cut short by Heather giggling, “...we, you’re blushing, are you embarrassed to get help from your mother?” Jayla shook her head, “N-No, I just.. Wasn’t expecting you to say that. I... I think I could use some help, thank you.” Heather smiled, “Of course sweetie,” she said, the hand which had been resting on Jayla’s lap moved, rubbing her leg comfortingly, partially for Jayla’s sake,. Perhaps it was those sagging shoulders, but those suits never did really look as sharp and proper as they were meant to at these events. Made one puzzle, what was the point in getting dressed in ones most expensive clothes for a gathering where sadness prevents anything you could possibly wear from looking good, and the guest of honor really couldn't care less what you wear. But tradition was as it was and so even at this most untraditional funeral, some things were irrepressible.After they had. I stopped frozen in my tracks. The waist of her jeans was sticking out at the back, and had slightly dropped down, revealing the smallest red thong I have ever seen. That opened the flood gates and sent a rush of blood straight to my cock, filling every capillary available. "How the fuck am I going to hide this?", I thought to myself. She would turn around to take the brush from me and all she would see was by raging erection right at eye level. "Uh, here you go Brenda, I just have to get. “The other."Other? What?“Bryan. I'm not stupid. I know about ‘the other’.”I was sitting on the sofa and she approached and knelt and her fingertips touched my denim-covered knees. Her smile was friendly. “Silly boy. Of course I noticed.” “Those vacant eyes. How you watch her.” She was close enough for me to smell beer on her breath.“The panty lines.”“Wh … what … ?”“Panty lines, Bryan.” Her eyes studied mine. “On your face.”I felt my head going side-to-side with some unauthorized and hapless.
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