Kafka's hands gripped Abigaille's hips, his fingers sinking into her soft flesh as he leaned into her, his face buried deep between her cheeks, the muffled hum of his pleasure vibrating against her skin.
And finally when he seemed to done with kissing his mother's ass, he pulled back just enough to plant one final, lingering kiss on her purpled ass, his lips wet and warm, sucking gently at the bruised skin before releasing it with a soft, obscene pop.
His tongue flicked out, tracing a sensual circle around the handprint, leaving her glistening as he caressed her brown, voluptuous curves with a tenderness that made her moan softly.
"All good now, Mom?" He asked, his voice low and velvety, his fingers kneading her ass as he looked up at her, eyes glinting with care and mischief. "Is your butt fine, or do you want more kisses to make up for it?"
Abigaille turned, her gaze meeting his with a radiant, unashamed glow, her lips curling into a coy smile.
