Even I flinched at my harsh tone, but he didn't."Allow me to rephrase. What specifically did I do to make you believe that?" His tone was polite, curious; not irritated by my attitude, for which I should have been thankful, and wasn't. It seems I want a fight.I sighed. "You called me a monster, Alistair. You walked away. And your face ... Maker, the expression on your face. I can see it still, in my mind. You made it quite clear I disgust you."I looked away; I didn't want to be discussing it. Not when now I knew I wanted him back, and yet couldn't have him. I scrunched my eyes shut, trying to banish the hurtful image. The silence stretched, and finally I risked a glance in his direction. He sat, perfectly still, looking forlorn. His eyes were glistening suspiciously, and his lower lip quivered just slightly; it was painful to watch. Almost painful enough to overwrite the image of his disgust.Finally he spoke. "Sierra, I ... Void take me, but I'm an idiot. Everything I do is just...". The moment stretched, and I thought I could detect an involuntary nibbling of mom’s pussy lips on my penis tip. Then she lifted her hips just enough to dislodge the cunt/cock contact, and I went back to sawing away at her crotch.I was more excited, by the thought that I had tasted the forbidden fruit of sex with my mother, than by the fact that she and I were connecting at a level of physical intimacy all but short of actual intercourse. At any other moment I would have cherished and love the fact that I was stripped bare and in the erotic clenches of my equally unclad mother. But I had one thing only on my . . . mind, and my brains were all in my dick-head tonight!Soon enough our movements were getting rambunctious in our growing passion, and I began a gentle ramming down into the saucepot of her pudenda. Now, as I began to dip, she would pause to let me get just a little deeper than a moment ago. So it began a gradual progression of entry, stroke – stroke & slip/dip; . ..
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