Joyce relaxed, draping her arms across the back of the sofa. Her eyes remained fixed on the hardness of her son's ass. She watched him carefully as he crossed the room, imagining herself lost between his strong legs. She was sure that his cock would be just as wonderful as she imagined.

Billy handled himself like an old pro at the bar, holding up the bottle of Black Label Scotch for his mother's drink and looking at how little was left.

"I guess you've already had a few," Billy laughed, pouring his mother another triple.

Billy knew damn well that his old lady was pretty well smashed. He had seen her loaded before, but never as drunk as she was at that moment. And he was really shocked at the way she was dressed. He was having one hell of a time keeping from staring at her lush figure. Resting her arms high on the back of the sofa thrust her tits forward, straining the material of the skimpy garment.

As drunk as she was, Joyce could tell the effect she was having on her son. She could see the flames of passion and lust burning in his eyes. Even in the darkness she could see the hardening of his teenage cock, outlined against the front of the skin-tight jeans he was wearing.

Billy fixed himself some vodka and orange juice on the rocks and placed the drink on a small tray along with Joyce's Scotch. His hands trembled with the excitement of the situation as he strode back to his mother. He made no effort to hide the interest he had in her fat tits. His eyes danced from one thrusting melon to the other, and he thought about wrapping his hungry lips around the hardness of Joyce's nipples.

Joyce was proud of her strong, handsome son. The heat of his gaze on her body made her cunt throb with pleasure. She could almost feel the strength of his big prick between her legs. She would have to be sure to have him fuck her asshole, she told herself as she stared at the big lump that his cock made against the front of his jeans.