“My son”, Jennifer whispered dreamily. One hand was squeezing one of her tits, and rolling a stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger, another hand had disappeared between her legs, its fingers rubbing into the pink slit. xxx He was her son, this wasn’t supposed to happen, at least not out of fantasy; She should get dressed; She should feel ashamed; This was all just a dream. Her small, warm hand grabbed the shaft, feeling the stickiness. Her juices were running down her thighs even more profusely than before, realising she was standing naked in front of her son, delectable and pungent. Whatever it is that you feel like doing; go right ahead. Two egg sized balls hung low between his legs, the weight of them making the sack hang almost in front of his asshole.
