I closed them again.'Where am I?' is such a cliche, but sometimes it fit the situation.Let's review. I was in bed, but it wasn't my bed. It didn't fee... right. Besides, the ceiling was green. Puke green. Who would paint their ceiling puke green? It was hard to concentrate.My shoulder itched.I decided that was more important than where I was. I lifted my hand. It felt funny and I couldn't wiggle my fingers. I reached up to scratch my shoulder... "Oh, God!" I moaned as pain shot through me."Tony. Just as quickly, she morphed into a stern-looking Stacey and I jerked my hands away, feeling unsatisfied and hotter than ever. I was being a good little slut, but I wanted to cum badly and Mom still was holding up the show. ‘O-oh, Linnea,’ Mom gasped, ‘When did you stop being the daughter I raised? You never’ — she had to catch her breath and force the word out — ‘used to do things… like this.’ Her face was red and her body glistened with sweat, and she arched away from the seat beneath her in. More

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