Several hours later, Sylvia began to second guess her decision as she drove to her kid sister's cozy bungalow on the other side of town. She knew that she had to stop fucking her son and she knew that Jill was the only person who would be utterly horrified by the story Sylvia was going to tell her. At the same time, she wondered seriously if Jill would keep her hands out of Tony's jeans.

Jill was a slut. There was no use mincing words, Sylvia knew, because that was what Jill called herself. She was twenty-eight years old now, a tall, long-legged blonde with mischievous blue eyes acute ass and a nice pair of tits. Jill looked like a sweet, wholesome girl at first glance. But Jill had a constant need for sex.

She'd already divorced two husbands, both of whom had caught her with her legs wrapped around another man's back. Jill never blamed herself for cheating on them. She blamed her ex-husbands, for not giving her the constant, violent fucking she craved. Sylvia's kid sister apparently didn't think it was too much to ask a man to cum five times a day. Fortunately – or unfortunately – there was no chance of Jill marrying again. The last husband had inherited money, and Jill was quite content living alone in the cottage off of his alimony checks.

Sylvia parked her car at the curb, and was halfway up the path to Jill's little house when the door opened in front of her. Out stepped what looked like a college student, a tall, muscular teen with a dreamy, contented smile on his face. The teen was buttoning his shirt. He grinned at Sylvia as they passed each other gazing shamelessly at her huge tits. Sylvia turned, watching as the teen hopped into a gray convertible and drove away.