It seemed a long time as Bobby gasped, still clinging to his cock. Sharon wasn't breathing normally, and I her eyes seemed riveted to her son's prick. She felt his come juice on her thigh.

She was very close to spasms again, refused to explode. It was driving her crazy. She wanted to come, badly, and she couldn't.

After a while longer, Bobby stood up, his cock dangling from his open pants, a silver string of jizz dangling from the head of his cock. She watched him walk toward the hallway, his cock hanging boldly out. He glanced back at his mother just before he disappeared down the hall.

Sharon sat stiffly, trembling. She stared at her thigh, seeing his come jucie glistening on her flesh, then at the small puddle of it on the cushions of the couch. The threatening orgasm seemed to keep building in the pit of her stomach, her cunt starting to contract as her clit throbbed.

She moved her finger into the puddle of cock cream on the couch, wiping through it. Then she used her palm to smear her son's jism into her thigh flesh. It was hot and slippery.

Then, with a groan, Sharon came.

The orgasm was so powerful, it doubled her over.

CHAPTER TWO

Bobby came back into the room.

His cock was in his pants and they had been zipped up. Sharon had recovered by then, and her hand trembled as she shoved her skirt don, pulling it to her knee.

She blushed fiercely, and couldn't look into her son's face.

Yet, in her mind, Sharon was going wild with erotic images, thoughts.

The heat in her body had not cooled, and her cunt, despite the tremendous orgasm, continued to bubble wetly.

She was glad her son didn't say anything. If he had mentioned what happened, Sharon felt she would shrivel up and fade away with embarrassment. Yet her very embarrassment was exciting. Being embarrassed could almost make her feel as if she had not been a willing partner.