![](https://cdn.pornlib.net/000/397/397476/397476_300x225.webp)
- 10
- 0
Indian Summer
I listen to the last, fading strains of the lullaby for my baby boy as his mother rocks him to sleep. From my position on the bed, all I can see is the silhouette of mother and son, related in more ways than one. The light outside filters in through the windows, profiling the nude body of the Goddess who bore my son. She sets him down on his cradle, and I hear him start to cry, only to be soothed for the sudden loss of warmth by his mother's loving pats into sound sleep. Convinced that the...