"Tommy, don't!"
But it was too late.
He was coming, spurting his juices into his mother's pussy, the rapid, boiling squirts filling her, flooding her cunt, making her orgasm become more intense.
She groaned, pushing down as he strained upward, her cunt contracting about his spewing cock.
It was over quickly, and she rolled off her son, turning her back to him as if ashamed of what she had done. But she wasn't ashamed; her cunt was full of his come-juice… she had fucked him… he had fucked her, and she couldn't feel shame at all.
She felt her son get off the bed, listened to him leave her room quietly, and then she cried softly. Not with shame, but because she had loved it so much…
CHAPTER THREE
When Frank called, she put him off.
She knew he was hurt and puzzled when she broke their date for that evening, but she couldn't help it. Her thoughts were jumbled, and although she was very much in love with him, she now had something else to think about.
All day, Tommy was with her no matter where she was in the house, touching her tits, her ass, caressing her thighs and once, cupping her cunt through her dress and panties. When
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he had done that, Sherri had frozen, unable to move. Not in shock, but because that had made her come. Mildly, but an orgasm just the same.
She realized she had not noticed he had grown these past few years. She noticed something else, too. She was responding to her son in a passive manner. Tommy sensed this, she knew. She wasn't certain if she liked that. He was treating her as if he could do anything he wanted with her now. He was proud that he had flicked her. That alone seemed to make him feel he had total possession of her.
When she had broken her date with Frank, he had looked very pleased with himself. After dinner, she slipped into panties, then pulled on an oversized man's shirt she often wore as a nightgown. Tommy was still up, watching one of her movies on the VCR. She could no longer prevent him now, and he knew it.