Cut her some slack. Give her a break. Maybe I can help. She turned, the coolness of her eyes shading into warm hope. Her daughter watched me warily from the corner of the examining room as I took her mother's hand and led her to the paper-covered table.
Some women taste like fruit, some women taste like a freshly opened oyster.
Mother had obviously been in heat for some time, because when I tugged her lace panties down over her knees, I was instantly wrapped in the aura of love. I took off my glasses, gently separated her knees and lowered my face into her muff. My tongue danced over and into her wet sluice, her belly bounced as I moved my hands up to cup her breasts. I looked over toward the corner where the daughter stood, her eyes wide with excitement, her mouth slightly open, forming inaudible words. Suddenly I realized how beautiful this girl was.