There had been other warning signs after that, occurring more frequently. Vivian noticed how intently her son studied her body if she wore a low-cut blouse or skimpy shorts. In turn, she was dressed scantily to attract his attention.

Then the touching started. That had been only a few months ago, Vivian reflected. Donald had come home with a particular good report card, and Vivian had given him a congratulatory hug. While embracing him, she'd felt her son's hand sliding down her waist to cup the cheeks of her ass.

Was that the turning point? When she hadn't tried to stop him? When she'd instead pressed herself closely against him, and tilted her chin for a kiss? Donald had kissed her, all right – passionately, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth.

It had only lasted a few seconds, but the kisses that followed in the days ahead lasted longer and longer. Soon neither required an excuse to initiate hugging and necking. It became commonplace for the cock-hungry mother to give her boy a long good-morning kiss, followed by another pelvis-grinding embrace when he returned from school in the afternoon.

Donald's hands had boldly strayed farther and farther, rolling her luscious ass globes under his palms, squeezing and caressing her tits. Vivian had only protested half-heartedly, and his embraces had become incredibly blatant. By then Donald's crotch was bulging when his mom so much as passed him in the hall.

Now they were so wrapped up with each other that it didn't even matter that Lana and Richie were with them in the house. The wanton cock-sucking episode thirty minutes ago had been inevitable.

"What am I going to do about this?" Vivian whispered, miserably humping her pussy onto the pillow. "Oh, God, what am I going to do?"