Incest/Taboo Lingerie Mom

We were met at the door by a stunning woman, light brown hair, mid-twenties, as full a set of lips as could be imagined, wearing leather pants and a white shirt and holding two glasses of champagne. She handed each of us one, extended her hand, and said, "Mr. Beckins, Maja Kreg, it's so good to finally meet you. I hope your drive into town was pleasant."

She had an accent. Danish?

Brian took her hand in his. "It was, traffic was light."

She turned to me. She had light green eyes, the kind you felt you could go swimming in.

"And you must be the birthday girl."

"Yes, Kate, call me Kate."

She kissed my cheek. Her perfume was light, a touch of citrus.

"Kate, I believe you are going to love the items your boyfriend and I have been discussing."

Boyfriend? I glanced at Brian, trying to get his attention, but he slipped his hand into mine and we followed Maja into the store, stopping before a collection of corsets and basques, where Maja said, "Please choose your favorite."

I instinctively looked for the price tags, but Maja had anticipated me.

"Kate you're being naughty. This is a young man's present to his lady. You are not supposed to know, or wonder, what it costs. We removed the prices."

Still, I knew how much this stuff cost. My first impulse was to scold my son, to tell him he couldn't afford it, but Maja was right, it was a gift. I should enjoy it, not worry about its price.

And it would be the sexiest, most luxuriant thing, I'd ever owned.

Maja and I examined the lingerie. I listened to her, then several other salesladies joined us, sharing their thoughts. There was no hurry, no rush, no push to buy, I was in the moment, just me and the girls comparing items, gossiping, giggling, having fun in a place where beauty and sexuality ruled.

Finally, when I whittled the choice to two, the Raive Basque and Sianna Corset, both black, I turned to Brian. "Honey, what do think?"

"Well babe, you'd make both of them look good, but if you're asking me, I've got to go with the basque. Maybe, if you're a good girl, Santa will bring you the corset."

I held up the basque - it would be perfect with that night's outfit - and said, "You heard the young man."

As Brian paid Maja handed me the bag, whispered, "I added some complimentary stockings and garters," and slipped me a card, adding with a sexy wink, "Let me know how it goes."

As we drove off I, still bubbling with excitement, said, "Honey, thank you, you shouldn't have, this must have cost a fortune. What did you tell them?"

"You're welcome, yes I should have, what do you mean what did I tell them?"

"They thought we were a couple."

"Oh that, I contacted the store a few days ago, said a special lady was having a birthday, made the arrangements. They assumed we were a couple and I didn't correct them. I thought it would be fun."

He was right, it had been fun.

"And when they saw you, well you're way to hot to be my mother."

"Flatterer. Well, than you. I had a wonderful time and I really liked Maja. She was sweet and some pretty."

He took a second and said, "Yeah, she was pretty." Good answer, I thought, pretend he hadn't noticed (like he couldn't), pretend he's thinking about it for the first time, then pay a gentle compliment.

But it was a good answer for a beau, not a son.
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* * * *​

We were sharing a single room with two beds, not ideal, but it was the Omni Parker House. The place looked expensive and the kid had already spent a fortune on me. I was texting when Brian, in a light blue suit, polished shoes, pressed white shirt, and red tie, stepped from the bathroom.

"Oh son, you look great."

"Thanks, your turn."
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* * * *​

I showered, slid into the day's purchases, posed for the mirror. I'd never felt sexier.

I'd spent some time thinking about what to wear that evening. I wanted to look like what I was, a woman in her late thirties, not afraid of growing older, proud of her age and her body. My dark blue mid-calf dress had a scooped neck that displayed no cleavage but was snug enough to show off my long curves and slender build. One arm was sleeveless; the other sleeve extended to my wrist. I slipped into it, combed out my hair - I was wearing it down - applied make-up, put on earrings, stepped from the bathroom.

Brian put down his tablet and with a big grin on his face, said, "Well hello beautiful!"

I turned, pointed to the zipper pulled half-way up my back, said, "Do you mind?" and watched in the mirror as he walked towards me, his eyes drifting up and down my body. He placed a hand on my hip, pulled the zipper up, then, looking over my shoulder, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed my neck; our eyes met in the mirror.

"You wore the basque."

He'd seen it through the open back of my dress.

"Didn't you want me to?"

"And will you always do everything I want."

"We'll see."

I covered his fingers with mine. I liked the warmth of his body.

"So, are we ready?"

"Everything but my shoes."

"Why don't you sit down and let me do it."

He opened my grey bag, removed my shoes, ran his hand down my calf to my ankle, fitted the five inch black pumps to my feet. His touch was exquisite; I could feel it throughout my body.
​

* * * *​

We arrived at L'Espalier a few minutes early. I'd read about it, never imagined going there. The maitre de said our table would be ready in ten minutes and directed us to the bar, our drinks were compliments of the house. I ordered and went to the ladies room.

When I returned he was sitting at the bar, the stool to his left open, my glass of wine waiting. Standing to his right was a woman whose shining blonde hair reached the middle of her back. Who was she? Was she flirting with my son? This was my night!

I walked up, lay my hand on his back. He stood, slipped at arm around my waist, kissed my cheek, and the woman stepped forward, offering her hand. "Hi, my name is Mandy. Your boyfriend was just telling me it's your birthday, congratulations."

Before I could answer the bartender interrupted us, indicated our table was ready. I thanked her, picked up my glass of wine, and we excused ourselves. When we reached our table Brian pulled out my chair. Glancing at the blonde I leaned forward, took Brian's hand in mine, intertwined my fingers with his.

"Still playing my boyfriend?" I said.

"She came over, started chatting. I told her I was here with my girlfriend, that it was her birthday. Unless you object, yes, tonight you're my girlfriend."

"And tell me, what did I do to deserve such a wonderful boyfriend."

"That's easy, by being the sweetest sexiest woman in the world."

As we ate - I had lobster, he the sirloin - I imagined I was on a date. After such a special evening with such a handsome man, I'd invite him back to my place, pour him a drink, run my hands over his body..."

"You okay babe?'

"Sorry, just drifted off a second, thinking about how much I'm enjoying myself."

Holding hands, we walked the two blocks to the opera house. La Boheme was lush romantic perfect. Occasionally Brian reached over, touched my shoulder or neck, fiddled with my hair, rested his hand on my leg. He had a nice touch, soft, gentle, and soothing. Afterwards we shared a silly fruity drink at the hotel bar, took the elevator to our room, and he opened the door and followed me in. Inside, I turned to face him, straightened his tie, leaned in, kissed his cheek. He was inches from me.

"Thank you darling, I've never had a better time. Why can't I find a man like you."

He said, "You have found a man like me," and kissed me, his gentle lips slid against mine.

I felt a spasm in my sex, stepped back. My knees wobbly, I placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'd like to see you in the basque."

I should say no.

"Honey, are you sure?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in his voice.

I said nothing, but turned around. He undid the zipper of my dress. I stepped out of it, pulled on the basque, wanting it to fit just right, and turned around. The look on his face was respectful and approving, as if studying a work of art. He said, "My god, you're magnificent."

A broad smile spread across my face. "Thank you."

He stepped forward, held out his hand as if to touch me, then stopped.

"May I."

"Yes, of course darling. You bought it."

He ran his hand up my side. My skin crackled at his touch, which was both supple and firm.

"It was not until I was in China that I came to fully appreciate what it meant for you to raise me on your own; the life you gave up in order to make me your focus. How you sacrificed being a woman in order to be a mother."

"It wasn't a sacrifice, I love my son."

His hand was on my back, it flowed down my spine, along the seam of the fabric, to my backside. I was wearing a thong. He dragged four fingertips across my butt cheek.

My pussy swelled.

"It also wasn't until I went away that I began seeing you as a woman, and that's what I came back to, a beautiful sexy woman."

His palm was open, on my ass. My sex was churning.

I put a hand on his shoulder. He had beautiful eyes.

"I'm not sure you should be talking to me like this ."

"I'm sure enough for both of us. Let me show you."

He ran his tongue along my lips. They parted, just a little, and the tip of his tongue was in my mouth. I licked it, once, and my pussy spasmed, like his tongue was down there also. He pressed his body to mine.

"We're going to be lovers."

There was no doubt in his voice.

His fingers, on my chin, tilted my head upwards. He kissed me. I let him, then dropped my head, pressed it to his chest. A million thoughts flashed through my mind, but they all agreed on one thing. Right now I wanted him, it might be wrong, but I wanted him.

I looked back to his face, to those perfect features. He brought his mouth to mine. His lips were sweet and soft, his scent powerful and masculine. A woman could lose herself in that scent.

The kiss ended, I looked at him, and, overwhelmed, tried to make a joke, "Y'know, there are rules about this."

He said, "Its your birthday, a day to break the rules," and covered my breast with his hand, his thumb grazing my hard nipple. I placed a hand on his waist to steady myself.

He kissed me again, a short kiss, his lips enveloping mine.

There was a fire in my sex.

My mind raced. He was an adult, so was I; I wasn't a parent taking advantage of a child, he was seducing me. We were out of town, it was my birthday; it was just one night; no one would ever know. With Derrick I learned the joy of pushing on boundaries. This would be the biggest push of all.

I could trust Brian.

He ran his hand down my body. My sex twitched.

He kissed me.

He kissed me again.

He pulled me close and when his tongue pressed to my lips they parted and suddenly we were making out like horny teen-agers.

I stepped back and, hands shaking, undid his tie, unbuttoned his shirt. His undershirt, a sleeveless tee, clung to his body. I slid my hands under it, felt a smattering of his chest hair on my palms, and said, "Let's get this thing off." He sloughed off his shirt and pulled the tee-shirt over his head. I ran my hands down his now bare chest, laughed, leaned into him, and said, "I can't believe we are going to do this." I kissed his nipples.

He rubbed his hands together, warming them up, and slid one under the top of my basque, cupping, squeezing, my left breast. I was covered with goose bumps.

Brian kissed my lips, my neck, pulled the cup of my basque to the side, took my distended nipple between his lips, licked it with the tip of his tongue, rolled it between his teeth. He sucked half my breast into his mouth, working it vigorously with his cheeks and tongue. I groaned and cupped my hand to the back of his head, holding him to my chest.

"You like mommy's breasts?"

He responded with a muffled, "Uh-huh."

He gave the other breast the same attention, then kissed my lips. Our tongues played together. I kissed his chin and cheek, worked my way to his earlobe, nibbled on it, slid my tongue inside, then took my hand in his. I knew what he wanted and offered no resistance when he placed it on his penis, which I explored through his pants. It was big and hard, I could feel its warmth.

Taking a deep breath I pushed my hand inside his pants, circled my fingers around the shaft. Electricity flowed from it into my body, into my core. Brian, moaning his delight, scooped me up in his arms, carried me to the bed, laid me down, kissed my lips, my neck, pulled aside the top of my basque and nibbled on the valley between my breasts, then kissed down the silky fabric that covered my flat belly. I ran my fingers through his hair.

He unfastened my garters, curled his fingers in the bottom of my basque.

My son was about to see my vagina. My already overheated libido racheted up a notch. Taking a deep whiff, delighting in my aroma, he pulled the basque to the side.

"It's beautiful."

"You really think so?"

"Oh yes, the lips of your pussy are perfectly shaped, curved, moist and pink and swollen. Your labia is luscious, glistening wet. The hair is dark and neatly trimmed and matted to your skin, thick with your sweet cream."

He placed his fingers to the sides of clit, spread my skin, let it emerge from its hood.

"Your bud, it's bright red, hard and quivering, standing at attention, waiting for me."

No one had ever described my pussy to me.

He kissed my clit.

"Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

He brushed his tongue over the blood engorged nub and I groaned in bliss. He licked it again, traced light circles around it, then, unhurriedly, slid his tongue down my vulva, across my pussy lips to my perineum, licked it, then worked his way back up and captured my clit between his lips. Looking up at me, watching me quiver and quake, he sucked on my clit. I tried to keep his gaze, but the sensations were far too powerful and I dropped my head to the pillow, closed my eyes.

He licked down my labia, curled his tongue, shoved it inside me. I reached for him, held him to me; he rammed his tongue deeper inside me.

Moaning, "Nnnnnggggggaaaaahhhhhh," I closed my thighs on his head.

He twirled and swirled his tongue along the walls of my vagina, slurping down the steady stream of juice. Distracted by his tongue the grip of my thighs loosened and he pulled away, took a quick breath, then dove back in, as if trying to devour my pussy. I squirmed, whimpered, grunted, cussed, bit my lip, cried out his name.

Babbling, quivering, I was about to come and then Brian's body was atop mine, the head of his cock on my pussy lips. I nodded yes and he drove inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, dug my nails into his back.

He slid his hands under me, took hold of my shoulders, holding me in place as his thrusts pushed me into the mattress.

He whispered in my ear, "Your cunt's so hot. Does it like my dick?"

Tightening my pussy on his cock I growled, "Fuckk yyyeeessssss."

"Am I dicking you the way you like?"

Arching my back, using my legs to pull him deeper inside me, I said, "Oh, yyyeess. You are, need more, fuck me."

"Do you want to be fucked every night, every day, fucked all the time?"

I raised my head, looked into his eyes, and said, "Yes, I do, I do."

He pushed his tongue into my mouth and began grinding his hips into me; his cock swirled in the depths of my pussy; his pubic bone steamrolled my clit.

"Oh honey. I'm... ah! I'm... I'm about to... about to... oh baby, oh baby, oh baby, yes, oh fuck. I'm ccccccooooooooommmminngggg,"

My body, at the mercy of my orgasm, spasmed and contorted, while Brian slowed his motion, intensifying and extending my climax. While I drifted in the warm sweet afterglow of our illicit act, I draped an arm across his back, turned my head, kissed his lips, slid my hand up his back, played with his hair.

The fire in my pussy re-ignited. I wanted more.

"Fuck me til I can't walk."

"Yes ma'am."

He pulled out of me, rolled me onto my belly, spread my legs, and mounted me. Resting on his elbows, his legs outside mine, he entered me.

"Close your legs, cross them at the ankles."

I did and my pussy channel tightened, I could feel every detail of the cock interred within me. He pumped into me, slid his hands to my breasts, brushed his lips on my neck, nibbled an earlobe. I took hold of the spindles on the bed frame for leverage and humped back into him.

Covered with a thin sheen of sweat, our bodies slid against each other, small intense orgasm followed small intense orgasm.

"Oh yes honey. Yes. Yes. Yes. Fuck me. Just, like, this. Oo, ooooo, ooooooooo!"

I'd wanted a lover with whom I'd find my boundaries, break them, find some more, break them. Someone I could trust. I'd never imagined it would be my son.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

I came again and a wicked image filled my mind: Brian's cock exploding, flooding my cunt, his mother's cunt, his mother's womb, with his sweet sticky seed.

I flexed my cunt muscles.

"Oh baby, come inside me, give Mama your cum."

He groaned.

"I want your cum baby, want it in my pussy."

"Fuck Mom, I'm getting close."

"Me too, baby fuck me, fuck me."

I pushed a hand under my body, mashed my clit. Brian squeezed my tits, his breathing quickening, he gulped in air.

"Fuck me, fuck your mother, fuck the mommy-twat."

"Oh yes, fuck yes, fuck yes."

"Give mommy your cum."

"Oh Mom, yes, yes. I'm... ah. I'm... I'm gonna... gonna... Unnuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh!"

His dick jerked and he poured a torrent of cum inside me. Lubricated by his gushing cock the spring in my gut let loose and my insides detonated, mushrooming through my body in wave after wave of intense orgasmic joy. Lights flashed in my head, my cunt cramped, I let loose a supernatural howl.

I'd slipped into semi-consciousness, not sure how long I'd been out. My son's body was atop mine, his cock softening inside me.

I'd wanted to push the edge of the envelope. Well, I just ran it through the shredder.

He rolled off me and I lay my head on his shoulder, drew shapes on his chest with a finger, said, "That was amazing. Any regrets?"

Looking at the ceiling he said, "No. How about you?"

I took a second to answer.

"Right now it feels wicked and depraved, but that only makes it hotter. It's also no accident, you've been testing the waters since you got back. What's been going on?"

"My professor in China told me - not that I hadn't already figured it out - that she'd been taking foreign student as lovers for years. She said that they didn't have the same hang-ups as her countrymen and because they were only in China a few months, would try anything. She made sense. I decided when I got back to the United States I'd keep an eye out for a sexy older woman interested in testing boundaries.

"I'd always thought you were pretty, but when I saw you at the airport I thought damn, Mom's hot, and after twenty minutes it was obvious there'd been a lot of changes since I left town. You radiated sexual energy. When you sent me to your bathroom with your lingerie hanging up, it was clear you wanted me to understand there was a new you. So I felt free to talk about your garments, your 'accidental' wardrobe malfunctions, finding you enjoyed it as much as I.

"Incest was not something I'd contemplated in China, but it didn't take long for me to start. After all, you were coming on to me. When you didn't freak out at Agent Provocateur I figured we were both ready."

My head on my elbow, I looked at him. He thought this was my idea. And while I understood his point of view, a girl still needs to defend her honor.

"The truth is I forget my lingerie was hanging there. It was just a mistake sending you to the bathroom."

"Really? Was it a mistake when you wore the robe, sans underwear, and cuddled with me on the couch."

"Well yeah, although I can see why you might have misunderstood."

"How 'bout that sexual vibe I was getting from you. You seemed turned on all the time."

"That's true. I've been on edge since you got back."

"How 'bout pretending to by my girlfriend."

Why argue? I kissed him and said, "It appears I led you on," and rolled my body atop his. We began making out; his lips and tongue were strong and active, his taste fresh and clean.

When he sat up and leaned against the bed's headboard, I straddled his legs, caught his lower lip between mine, sucked it, licked it, released it, kissed his chin, his jaw, his neck, kissed down his chest, kissed across his abdomen. I ran my fingernails along his thighs to his penis; it was rigid and hot, stuffed with blood.

I'd wanted an unbridled sex life hidden from the public, but I'd imagined nothing as wanton as this, taking my son as my lover. Still, it would be perfect. No one would question when our lights went out at night or know about the lingerie I wore or our shared bed.

I bit my lower lip, pushed my hair away from my face, licked the slit of his cock. When I drew my tongue away a string pre-cum clung to it. Sliding my tongue back into my mouth, it detached from his penis and splattered on my chin.

I ran my tongue along my lips, delighting in his taste, licked his crown, licked down his shaft. He raised his hips and I tongued his ball-sac, took a testicle into my warm wet mouth, sucked it, massaged it, gave the other the same treatment, and pushed it from my mouth using the flat of my tongue, then licked my way back up. I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, built up a healthy dose of spittle in my mouth, and let a long frosty string of saliva ooze onto his cock, where it divided into streams and flowed down the sides. I stroked his dick, coated it with my spit, took it back into my mouth, swirled my tongue on it.

Brian was mesmerized by the sight of his mother's face in his lap. He'd hoped to return to the United States and find an older lady looking to explore the limits of her sexuality, but I exceeded his dreams. Only I could offer this forbidden pleasure, the opportunity to make the woman who gave birth to him his lover, to fill the cunt from which he'd emerged with the ultimate emblems of his masculinity, his cock and cum.

I moved back up his shaft, gave the crown a flick with my tongue, and then, catching my breath, had an epiphany.

"Where's your tie?"

"On the chair by the table."

I went to get it, looking at myself in the mirror, in heels, stockings, and the basque, my hair a wild mess, I'd never looked, felt, more sexual.

I handed Brian his tie, turned around, crossed my wrists behind my back.

"Tie me up."

"You sure?"

"You've wanted your mother as your fuck-mate. You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

He tied my wrists together and I knelt, took his dick into my mouth, licked the knob, then bobbed my head up and down, slurping noisily. Brian moved my hair away from my face, leaned back on his hands, and sighed, watching while I, moaning into his man-meat, stuffed more of him into my face. When I reached the half-way point I paused, concentrated, relaxed my gag reflex, took several deep breaths through my nose, let the spit build up in my mouth. Brian put his hand on my head and I pressed forward. His cock slid along the back of my mouth, lodged at the entrance to my throat where, with a final push, I swallowed him; my nose was buried in his pubic hairs, my chin rested on his testicles.

I hummed, imparting the vibrations to his cock, then pulled back. When his dick slid from my mouth, I coughed, assured him I was okay, and, with the flat of my tongue, licked the length of his dick, base to crown, flashed my most innocent smile, said, "If you want your mother as your fuck-toy, she's going to make big demands on this cock," took him back in my mouth, and journeyed back down his length. When the crown entered my throat I felt a stab of delight in my sex, like his cock was nudging my pussy lips aside. I moved back up, slathering the cock-head with my tongue, and nodded. Brian, his hand on my head, guided me back down and when his dick entered my throat I swallowed; Brian moaned ecstatically.

Someday, I thought, I wanted him to come in my throat, but not today. Today I wanted him to fuck me.

I slid my face off his cock, licked the head, said, "Fuck me."

He helped me up, then turned me around. Nudging my legs open with his knee, he circled his arms around my waist and lifted me from the floor. Pulling the bottom of the basque aside with a finger, his cock-head slid the length of my labia and when the tip reached my vagina, he lowered me, impaling me. I bottomed out and ground my body into his, knowing that with my full weight pressing onto him he was reaching places no man had ever visited. We humped into each other for several minutes then he turned, lowered me to the bed, and I, twisted my body, braced myself on my shoulder.

I was a wanton slut. I'd led my son on, asked him to fuck. I was a bad girl. I deserved to be...

"Spank me!"

"What?"

Pulling my bound hands higher up my back, I said, "Spank my ass. Spank your mama's ass."

He gave my left butt cheek a light slap.

"Harder!"

He slapped my right butt cheek with a bit more vigor.

"C'mon Brian, punish me, make me pay for being a dirty depraved dick-teasing son-fucking mother."

His cock jumped inside me and his hand rigid, gave my left cheek a hard whack that echoed through the room.

"Fuck yes."

He slapped my right cheek, the stinging pain fuel to the fire burning inside me.

"That's it, spank your mommy."

Brian grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled my head towards him, and, arching my back, I ground my clit into his body, bayed in obscene joy, yelped and yapped, and unleashed a cacophony of screams grunts groans moans cries whimpers until an orgasm, short and powerful, rendered me, for a moment, incapable of speech. Brian trapped my clit between two fingers. I came again.

I was a slab of concrete assaulted by a jackhammer. Each time Brian bottomed out inside me I emitted a short hard squeal, "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," and came, again and again. Brian pulled out of me and I jerked my hips back, futilely trying to re-establish our incestuous union, but Brian yanked the tie, which had all but come undone, from my wrists, flipped me over, and covered my body with his. Hands shaking, I placed him at the opening of my vagina and he entered me, fucking me in long deliberate strokes, rolling his hips against mine, trapping my clit between us. I lay my ankles atop his calves and begged: "Fuck me sweetie, fuck me."

I moaned, whimpered, praised him, cried, murmured, grunted, cussed. I wrapped my legs around his waist. I came again.

"Fuck me baby, fuck your mother. Come inside me, fill me with your seed."

"Oh yeahhhhhhhhhhhh, you know how to take a dick, don't you Mom. Your pussy feels so good on my dick. I love your cunt."

I was becoming unhinged.

"Fuck me Brian. Fuck my pussy. Fuck me, you fuck me so good. Ream me out, tear me apart, fuck me, I'm a depraved whore, going to come on your mother-fucking dick. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, oooooooohhhhhhh, please, please, please FUCKKKK MEEEEEE."

I came.

"Ohhhhhhhhh yeahhhhhhh, that's right, come on my cock. I love your pussy, love fucking my mother. Yes, yessssssssss, oh fuck, fuck yes, ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh, your cunt, your hot sweeet fucking cunt. Your cunt feels so good, sooooooo gooooooooddddddddd."

"Yeahhhhhh, your cock, ooooooooh, fuck me, fucking ohhhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkkk, gooooooooooddddddddddd, cock, feels soooooooooooooo goooooooodddddddddd, fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk yessssssssssss! Fuck your mommy, fuck her."

Clawing at Brian's back, I came again. His jaw locked in place, his body stiffened, he drove into me, rattling my spine, and, with a final hard grunt, exploded, pouring his cum into the depths of my soul, while screaming, "OH FUCK. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yessssssssss oooooooohhhhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkkk, oh fuck, oh fuck."

His sweaty body collapsed atop mine and we lay together, not sure where one of us began and the other ended. Soon he was asleep. I stood on shaky legs, kicked off my heels, peeled off the tattered remnants of my basque and stockings, turned off the light, crawled back into bed.

I was my son's fuck-mate.
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