"Paul, this is so repulsive," Emily whispered. "How can I talk to you when you're lying there with an enormous hard-on? Make your cock get soft this instant!"

"I can't!"

The horrified mother realized how intently her son was staring at her huge tits. The nightie wasn't transparent, but she'd carelessly neglected to check the buttons before barging into his room. Her son could see the whole expanse of her deep, spongy, milk-white cleavage. And her nipples were hard, sticking through the sheer fabric. Why were her nipples so stiff, Emily wondered dazedly, while she was trying to lecture her son?

And suddenly Emily knew, with a profound sense of shame, that she was hornier than she'd ever been in her life. It was a wonder she hadn't realized how dripping, throbbing, and burning wet her pussy had felt before. Her pussy was so wet that her inner thighs felt slick with her own fuck-cream, and there was only one reason why. She was turned on, staring down at her son's enormous cock. She was horny for her own flesh and blood.

"Paul, please. This is getting ridiculous." But the fuck-hungry mother's voice was completely different now, soft and husky with her own irresistible longing. "Please try to make your cock get soft. I… I can't stop looking at it. This is very embarrassing. I don't want to sit here and stare at my own son's stiff cock."

She squirmed nervously on the bed, forgetting that the slightest movement made her enormous, firm tits sway like giant melons under her nightie. Paul's mammoth cock started pulsing and jerking uncontrollably.

Why, he's actually going to shoot his load, Emily thought. Her eyes bulged as she gazed at his huge fuck-pole, watching it buck and pulse.

"Paul, this is disgusting!" Emily babbled.

"How on earth can you start at your own mother like that? You're looking at my body, aren't you? Is that what you think about when you stroke that enormous cock of yours? Fucking your very own mother?"