I spread some lube on her pussy lips, took the toy and slid it inside her. Kissing her chin and throat I whispered “touch yourself”, and was rewarded with the sight of her hand, tracing over her tiny, pert, perfect breasts, across her tummy, to begin rubbing herself.For a few minutes I alternated between kissing her, looking in her eyes, and watching her trace circles around and over her clit, a couple of times bringing her hand to her lips to wet the tips before going back to work. And then I took over, I don’t remember why, but one second it was her fingers on her, the next it was mine. Rubbing, flicking, stroking. Until I realised the toy had slid out of her, leaving her empty. Craving being filled.She was so wet – her juices plus the lube leaving her almost dripping – my fore and middle fingers slid up inside her with complete ease. She’s hot, wet, soft, beautifully contoured inside and she spread her legs wide, saying nothing but leaving me in no doubt that she wanted it deep and. But for some reason, today, she felt an urge to catch up with what her son was up to on line. What she found astounded her. Looking at the History file, she was startled to see that Mark had apparently been poking around in a website that featured erotic fiction. This by itself wasn't necessarily something bad. She had used that very site herself at times. But what took her breath away was the nature of the stories Mark had downloaded. In all, there were over a dozen stories in the file, and every single one featured i****t between mothers and sons. Helen trembled from top to bottom as she started looking at some of the stories, and she felt herself flush. Most of the stories were well-written, and all of them were extremely graphic. She could feel the moisture building between her legs as she read each story, and the more she read, the wetter she got. She tried several times to shake herself out of the near-trancelike state she'd fallen into, but she could not pull herself away from.
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