Mousy mom submits to son, Then sets up her friend to fall

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Oh my God, I thought. What do I do? I kept moving my thumb side to side on his thigh. I nuzzled my head against his chest and sighed. What am I doing? I asked myself. I could hear my own breathing getting shallow as my ears began tuning out the noise from the TV. I could feel and almost hear David’s pulse everywhere that our bodies were touching. It felt so powerful. I knew every heartbeat was delivering more and more blood to my son’s dick. Holy shit..

“Do you like the show?” David asked quietly, and he inhaled in the scent of my hair and kissed the top of my head.

“Mmhmm..” I breathed sharply, my pitch higher than normal. “It’s good, baby,” I whispered. As my thighs started to squirm, I realized I was getting wet. After a while of this, my face was starting to feel hot, and I could feel distinct prickles of perspiration on my forehead, then between my shoulder blades. I rocked my elbow out a little and could feel the cool air make contact with my underarms.

I needed to leave. My rational brain was screaming at me, but it seemed so far away and my body was just responding automatically. I noted with anxiety that my hips were rocking slightly, almost imperceptibly. I could feel that my cotton panties were fucking wet.

Why is this happening? I needed to get up and leave.

The music on the TV swelled up mercifully and then the credits starting playing.

“I’m falling asleep, baby,” I lied. “I’m gonna go to bed.” I lifted the blanket off slowly and I took a mental snapshot of our laps in the dim room. He had an obvious and huge tent in his pajama pants and the wetness from my cunt had made the bottom of my cotton shorts noticeably darker. Through the material, you could easily see my camel-toe. It was embarrassing. I stood up quickly, hoping to preserve some dignity and kissed my son’s temple.

“Goodnight, baby,” I said as I scurried out into the kitchen and up the stairs to my bedroom.

“Goodnight, Mom,” he softly called out, his voice deep and calm.

I felt so embarrassed as I walked up the steps in my wet boyshorts as my slippery pussy lips slid against each other. I looked down at my nipples, which were hard and more than noticeable even with the built-in shelf bra. I took a deep breath as I stepped into my bedroom and stepped out of the damp panties immediately and flung them against the wall with my foot.

Calm down. Nothing happened, I told myself and tried to control and slow down my breathing. I looked into the mirror and as ashamed as I felt, I thought I looked great. My cheeks were flushed, pupils dilated. My top hugged my tight little cougar body and stopped just high enough to show off my flat sexy belly. You could barely even see my old C-section scar anymore. It was right above where my pubic hair ended and was just a line of lighter skin.

With my shorts off, I could also see clearly that my labia had gotten engorged and parted of their own accord with my arousal. My skin was glistening from the light perspiration. I raised my arm and checked how I smelled. My body odor was very light, feminine, and inoffensive, but it was there. Mixed with the light and flowery scent of my body wash and the trace of perfume that still lingered, it felt somehow brazenly sexual. I wondered what I smelled like to David. I thought he smelled amazing. Was that weird?

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