Her own son!
God, her own son!
She fled the room as if it were on fire. When she reached her bedroom, she quickly threw on some clothes and raced out of the house. Not to find something or go someplace, but to escape her desires.
As she drove down the busy street, she could barely steer the car. Her pussy was bubbling, sucking on the silky material of her panties. At last, she pulled into a fast-food restaurant and leaned over the steering wheel, tears stinging her face.
After a long while, she sat back and tried to collect her thoughts. Before she had a chance to consider her terrible fantasies, however, she saw a young man – about the same age as her son – come out of the restaurant and approach her car.
"Hey, lady, you OK?" the boy asked. "You sick or something?"
Yes, I'm sick! Christ, am I ever sick! Would you like to hear the full story? You seem like such a nice kid. I was beating off in my bedroom and started thinking about screwing my own son. So, I had to get out of the house or only God knows what I might have done.
"I'm fine," she muttered, swallowing hard. "I just got a little dizzy, I guess."
"Is there anything I can do?" the boy asked.
Will you repeat that? Shit yes, there's plenty you can do. You can take that big cock of yours out of those tight pants and stick it in my pussy. No, you can let me suck you off. Or would you rather screw me in the butt? Or slam that thing between my tits?
"I'm fine," she repeated. "Really."
As she looked at him, she noticed that his eyes were on her breasts. Well, why not? They were heaving, thrusting upward in her confused excitement. And even if she were almost forty, she still prided herself on her looks.
She stood as tall as almost any man yet retained her femininity. Surrounding her oval shaped face was a halo of burnished-red hair, accentuating the dark-emerald color of her eyes. Because her waist was so tiny, it made her hips appear fuller than they were. Her legs were tanned the color of ripe peaches, long and shapely, giving way to perfectly formed feet.