There was a dreaminess to it all that she would never have imagined. She felt as if she were floating, as if she were flying through the air in the midst of her orgasm, and there was a liberated quality she hadn't felt for a long, long time.It was the way Carl had made her feel sometimes, when he held her tightly in his arms and bore down against her and drove his prick to the hilt in her shaking cunt.She even imagined she could hear his voice right now, telling her how beautiful it was, how exciting to watch, how kinky. How he was going to love being married into this family... Christine gasped. The dream ended with a breathtaking suddenness. She lifted her head from between Robin's spread, quivering thighs and turned it. Her eyes took a moment to focus again. When they did, they saw him.Not Carl.No, not Carl. Carl was dead. The man walking towards them with the lustful grin on his face wasn't Carl. Carl would never be unbuckling his pants and pushing them down to free his straining. " But, us," he said, not knowing what to say."Like I said, you are only the second man I have made love to." I don't know what to say, Mom," he mumbled."There is nothing to say," she went on, still sipping on her wine.Both of them sat staring into the other's eyes for several moments, before she finally spoke."I love your father," she said softly, "and I love you. I suppose if a woman must have two lovers, she couldn't ask for more." I wish I could have been your first lover," he fussed softly."Impossible," she laughed softly, "how could you have been my first lover if it took my making love to create you?" Just jealous of Dad," he pouted."But strangely, I feel more, uh, more, I don't know, more at ease with you." Really?" I don't know why. Your father and I have had twenty-five wonderful years together," she went on, filling her glass again, "But we don't seem to share the same intensity of emotions that you and I seem to possess." God, mother, I love you," he growled, reaching for.
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