He would cum yet again thinking about his encounter with his thirty five year old mother while he stroked his prick.Rose woke early, still feeling gui...ty about the previous night's encounter with her son. She, dressed in a pale blue silk lounge pajama set, stood at the kitchen counter preparing the coffee maker. Something hard rubbed between her ass cheeks. "Mornin' Mother."Rose turned using both hands to push her son away from her. Brad had only his white briefs on, his morning erection. He did, and she stumbled away, surprised and confused, on top of embarrassed and flummoxed. Her son had just cupped her left breast. It felt like his hand was still there, holding her. Face red and hot, underarms itching like mad, she wanted to slink away, hunch-shouldered to her bedroom and hide."Why did you do that?" she cried.He laughed at her perplexed expression and how she was scrunched defensively."Matthew it's not funny! I'm not having sex with my own son!" Even the words made her. More

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