It was a good body, she thought, and according to Robbie and Bettina, a beautiful, sexy one. Her body was capable of giving and of receiving much love. Her legs were long and supple, and her breasts shaped high and firmly. She had always thought she was a bit too lean, but they insisted she was just right, special in her own way.

Lauralee ran soapy hands over the curving of her ass and smiled. Robbie called it her sweet, not ass. Straying bubbled fingers across her pubic mound, she caressed it. Rich and deep, they said; her mature pussy was rich and deep, possessed of an intense fascination for her son. Robbie had squirted it hot sheath full of his explosive semen not once, but twice.

The seat of rapture, she thought; this volatile, adjustable organ she had tried to ignore most of her life was now the center of her existence. Probably it had been meant to be, but she'd wished she didn't have it, wished she never had to think of her vagina.

Until now; until she had ventured to finger herself to her initial orgasm, turned on by seeing that pornographic film. Since then, it had been licked and sucked, its soft juices gulped avidly, its clitoris made a target for ecstasy. And she had known the inner workings of another woman's cunt, tasted the sweetness of the inner lining so silken and juicy, known the flexing as it shuddered in vibrant climax.

Lauralee stopped stroking her mound and exposed it to hot rinsing water, turning her body slowly so that soap would be purled away. Better than that, her pussy had been invaded by a thrusting, hammering cock, one that was hard and young, a prick that reached far up into her hole and set fire to her womb. Her son's prick; Robbie's prick, the very shaft that had been ridden only minutes before by the boy's bride. But Robbie loved to fuck his mother, just as well as the lovely, intense girl he had married, and possibly even more.