Roger pulled his finger away and she felt him pressing her back onto the couch. She complied, but only because she felt so weak and helpless, her passions controlling her. She lay on her back, eyes tightly closed, breathing in short, gasping sounds. Her firm tits lifted and fell. She covered her eyes with one hand so she could hide from him. She felt him scooting her skirt up her legs, past her hips, bunching it around her narrow waist.

Then Roger parted his mother's thighs.

Carol tried to imagine this as just another fantasy, but the sensations of being touched by her son were much too real.

She felt his hands pulling at her panties, peeling them down her hips, along her thighs, then off her feet. He pulled his mother's long legs wide apart, staring at her cunt. Carol felt her son's eyes on her pussy, and there was nothing she could do when her clit burned harder yet.

His mother's cunt was different than his cousin's. Ginger had a little fuzz on the pink lips of her cunt, but it was nothing compared to the hair on his mother's cunt. Carol had a thick, dark-blonde bush of curly hair, shaped like a fan, with pink lips that were glistening with wetness. He saw his mother's extra-long clit standing up in a hard knot. Knowing how much pleasure it gave Ginger, Roger touched his mother's clitoris. Carol made a sobbing sound, pressing her arm tighter over her eyes as her hips began to squirm.

She couldn't make Roger stop. She didn't have the courage. She lay there, exposed from her waist down, legs wide apart, trembling as her son looked at her cunt, touching, feeling her up, her face burning with embarrassment.

Again he pulled his mother's free hand to his cock, closing her fingers. Carol moaned when he held her fist tightly there, and began to pump her fist back and forth, making her jack him. Her fingers gripped his cock hard, eagerly, thrilled to feel the power throbbing up her arm. When her son turned her hand loose, Carol continued to grip his cock and jerk by herself.