“It’s so good, baby,” I cooed, trying to catch my breath, “your cock’s so good.”It didn’t dawn on me that my son called me a slut and I ...ouldn’t recall a time when another guy had called me that. I didn’t care though. I was a slut. I was his slut. And I wanted to be his slut.I bounced on him harder and faster, thrusting my hips forwards and backward and around in circles over him. The squishy sound of his cock repeatedly penetrating my soaking wet vagina was muffled by my moans of pleasure. It. “Well, I guess you like having that butt-plug rammed up you, eh?” she stated. I groaned inwardly.She left the room and returned with that hated instrument.“Roll him over, Cara,” she said.Without preamble, she spread my cheeks and pushed the butt-plug back in forcefully. I grunted loudly. “Serves you right,” Heather said with a slap on my ass cheek.Heather then uncuffed me and told me to go clean the cum off myself and return to her.Back in the living room, she told me I could use the bathroom. More

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