There was no sign of Emily. I checked the time and jumped the stream and climbed up into my own tree-house. Emily was already in there, waiting for me...Emily’s glinting eyes looked mischi, evous. The moment I had crawled in and sat down, she sat back down on the hatch across from me and extracted a hip flask from an inside pocket of her coat. She held it out towards me triumphant. The tree-house was so small that our legs were stretched out beside each other and she could pass things to me. She waited for him to sit down and take out his hard-on, which he did. True, she knelt in front of him, which was exciting in and of itself, but then when she began to rub his erection, she did it clinically and dispassionately. She didn't say a word and remained poker-faced, even grim.This is no fun, thought Alan. I almost have more fun with my own hands.He was determined that things wouldn't continue like this. He willed his dick to get flaccid, although normally the mere idea of his mother. More

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