Slowly, one by one, they filed in, and soon a good portion of the seats were filled. There were not many – seats that is, less than fifty in all – since the bleachers were still folded into their wall storage compartments. Regular folding chairs had been set up, and tonight – unlike past nights – over half of them were empty, and would remain so. Each person entering wore a black robe that covered them from neck to floor, complete with a hood to conceal their hair as the masks concealed their faces. Faceless, nameless, intended to be sexless, but that didn't always work, as there is only so much even a robe can hide. One by one they filed in and took their places, each alone in the blank sameness of anonymity.Despite the intentional feeling of isolation induced by their sameness, they had much in common. Fear, for one; this was a place they had learned to fear long ago. Sorrow, for they knew that someone would be made to suffer tonight, and maybe tomorrow, and maybe even longer than. He lowered his hands to unzip his shorts. I had to rise up so he could get to his zipper. I heard him unzip his shorts. I still had his dick trapped under my ass. I raised my hips even more."Everything OK, honey?" My husband asked me. "Are you getting uncomfortable on our sons lap? Do you want me to stop so you can get more comfortable?"As Mike pulling down his underwear, I felt his trapped dick release itself. I sat back down on him. His dick was pressing against the back of my naked ass."No, that's all right, dear. " If I move around just right, I think I'm going to get real comfortable. What about you Mike. Is there anything you need to do to get more comfortable? Is there anything you need me to do?"Mike placed his hands on each side of my hips." If you would mom, raise up some so I can position myself better." I understood what my son was saying.I raised my ass in the air as high as I could. I felt one of his hands come off of my hip. I knew what he was doing with it. I started.
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