Jane did not connect every time she went barhopping. It caused her to drink more and barely make it home and into her bed.
These were hazardous time for Joey. He would push the envelope, entering her room to see how drunk she really was, hoping to find her unconscious enough to fondle her if not more. He never found her as before but a soft, quick touch to forbidden areas, little successes, would intoxicate him.
One evening, Jane, after drinking heavily returned home to an empty house. She showered, spent lingering minutes massaging cream into her breast and returned to bed nude, something she rarely did knowing her son resided with her.
Early that morning, she woke up feeling sick to her stomach and barely made it to the toilet, vomiting violently into the toilet, soon sending her to her knees.
Joey had not been in bed long and heard his mother throwing up. It had happened before and he had comforted her by holding her shoulders, handing her a drink of water or keeping her hair care of her face. He rolled from bed expecting to do the same this night.
He was instantly startled and stopped in his tracks finding her on her knees and bare ass. He gave second thoughts to comforting her but her could not pull himself away. Finally, He tried to ignore her nakedness and comfort her.
She accepted his help as she had done previously, thanking him and clinging to his arm with her right hand. She continued throwing up and gagging.
Joey tried! He tried hard! He had lived with his pent-up lust far too long. In between her convulsions, he studied her body, specifically her ass. With brazen audacity, he reached to draw his hand over her left breast, noting her acceptance. Disregarding the fact that his mother was sick as hell, he returned his hand to cup and squeeze her breast.
Jane, shifted her weight on her knees, spreading her stance, to relieve a bit of knee pain, a large thick rug giving aid. With her face halfway into the toilet, her son having flushed the toilet. She felt spent and content not to move. She remembered her nakedness. His squeezing of her breast felt unnaturally good. For brief moments, she allowed the intimate touch from her son, intending to scold him when she caught her breath. Then, she was aware of him kneeling down behind her… extremely… close behind her… raking her pussy with a hand. With her immediate alarm came an intake of breath and wide eyes as she was sexually taken from behind.
“Joey! For god’s sake, have you lost your fucking mine!” She challenged with a disbelieving tone, trying to disengage. “You can’t do this! I’m your mother! Pull it out!”
But contrary to her concern, he was doing it… fucking her. He was fucking her with a most determined , moderate rhythm, sticking her deep with each thrust. So determined, that she placed her arms around the bowled rim of the toilet, grunting, and much to her self-condemnation, moaning. It felt good. Having released the contents of her belly she would have admitted that she felt better and being fucked, except for the fact of the incestuous cock inside of her, it felt disturbingly good. After all, she loved to fuck and being so damnably taken had its fascination!