“In the kitchen,” my darling mother’s voice echoed through the house directing her bullish boy friend right to me, thanks mum. Ian was a bastard...and that was no surprise, he was the newest in a long line of bastards dragged into the house by my mother. She had married a man in her teens, had me and been surprised when he buggered off as soon as I was born. Since then there had been a long succession of arrogant worthless low lives each as bad as the next in their own way. Mostly they had. She had straight long red hair, brown eyes, and perfect luscious lips. She was wearing tight black yoga pants which I nicknamed her fuck pants because it hugged her tight ass so well you could see everything. She also had on a tight low riding t-shirt that outlined every curve of her body. I had bought it for her for Christmas last year and under it I could tell she had brought my favorite lacy pink push-up bra by the way her tits were slightly higher on her chest. It made her 36C breasts even. More

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