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But mom reacted differently she touched my feet and went. I was confused. I want a fuck I decided. So I followed her to the kitchen. I went and hugged her from back and started kissing her neck. She held my hand tightly and said,”I think my son is in mood?. I replied,”yeah, from morning I’m going to make you cry” and started to poke her belly button and started to rotate there. She was breathing heavily. I went and closed the main door and we moved to the master bedroom. I made her roll on the bed. She was wearing a beautiful purple saree and blouse. What a woman? I fell on her and kissing her forehead then lips. She responded passionately we exchanged saliva our tongues are rubbing each other’s. I removed her saree and I’m licking her navel. I’m a navel freak. I like good shaped navel. I love to bite my mom’s navel folds when I saw them. she said,”naa romba kuduthu vechava unga appa enna intha maari santhosa paduthanudha illa” (“I’m very lucky. your dad never makes me so horny and. Not the teamsters we think of today, the union guys who unloaded ships and handled freight, the old fashioned kind — drovers and muleskinners, men who could handle horses and mules in teams.Dad, with Mr. Argus' assistance, had spent the past few years identifying the country's leading experts and craftsmen, and together, had spent some time making a list of who to try to reach.We began that journey with something personal. Dad, Mom, Greta and I, flew back east to Boston. Grandma Kendall lived in MarbleHead, Massachusetts, in a yellow house that sat on a bluff and overlooked the sea.When we arrived, Grandma had everything packed and put away carefully, The house was empty except for Grandma and her best friend Emily. The two of them sat, calmly sipping tea as if nothing was about to happen. We had a nice visit with the two of them before Dad and I left for Portsmouth to meet our first craftsman, Peter Martens, a sail maker. Greta gave me a kiss and told me not to worry, they'd take.
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