Of course, I had never seen an eighteen year old stud jacking off before. I slipped quietly away from his door and hurried to my own bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind me, I started to throw my clothes off and headed for the bed. I lay down; my legs in the air, sliding off my panties. With my knees spread wide I lay back and grabbed my cunt with both hands. I was so wet my fingers slipped into my pussy and I started to furiously rub my clitoris. I began pinching my left nipple as I finger fucked my snatch. I could smell my own hot pussy juices as they flowed all over my hand. I stopped rubbing myself and lifted my fingers to my mouth. I sucked off the slimy residue from my overflowing cunt and then once again jammed my fingers as far into my hot box as I could.
I was stroking my clit as fast as I could now. My son’s words echoing in my ears. “Oh yeah, Mama, take my jism down your throat. Swallow my cum, you, you’re so sexy!” I could feel the heat start to rise from inside my womb.
I knew that feeling even if I hadn’t felt it in a long time. I came with a shuddering, thunderous roar in my ears. My body was racked with wave after wave of spasmodic mini orgasms.
After I had calmed down, I tried to analyze what had just happened. I had watched my only baby child jack off to visions of an older woman, talking about his mother and it had made me so hot that I damn near ripped my own cunt apart jacking my clit to a vision of me sucking my son’s teenage cum down my throat. I knew what this meant. I was one sick pussycat! This was incest I was thinking of. Not something to take lightly.
But what the fuck. I was 36 years old and had been divorced for eight months. In all that time, I had had only five dates with men. Three of them had ended up in bed with me in some sleazy motel room. They shot their load off so fast, I was barely getting into it and they were done and out the door with hardly a “Thank you ma’am.” The other two turned out to be married.
So here I was, lying on my bed, naked, with pussy juice dripping down into the crack of my ass, thinking about having sex with my own son. No, no way was I going to go through with it. In the morning I was going to find some sex shop and get myself a large dildo, well, maybe I could find one that looked like his cock, the vision was still clear in my mind. That should take my mind off that gorgeous hunk of cock I was lusting after. I fell asleep with visions of my little baby’s sweet dick, then his cock sliding in and out of my wet cunt . . . feeling his hot sperm washing the insides of my pussy channel on their way to my womb.
Later I rationalized that just thinking about what we could do was OK. As long as we didn’t actually do anything. Sure incest was nothing new to me, I had a multi-year affair with my brother, we were children, but Robert was always my baby. Yet I just could not stop thinking about him, his cock, his moans, talking about me and the way his cum shot out and landed on his legs. It was becoming an obsession. I was walking around always horny. My pussy itched and I swear if he was in the room, I could feel my juices running down my legs!