I fidget. By no coincidence, there is nothing in the room to occupy me save my thoughts. The noise from the other room are helpful hints just in case my mind dares to wander outside of the designated topic. Sex. The fail safe is about as necessary as clothing on a whore. See, even my metaphors are coming out kinky.<br/><br/>Of course, I am placed at a disadvantage. One that stretched back several hours, to the singular point when I investigated the alert on my phone in class and found an email with a picture of my mother naked. And utterly delighted to be in such a state. That, more than anything else, sowed the seeds of incest. Imagine a woman - the most beautiful one you can hope to see - lying prostrate on a table ravaged by the ecstasy of an orgasm. Her eyes unfocussed. Mouth agape. Nipples taut. And toes curled. Would you not want to pursue her? Would you really be able to rise above your basest impulses? If so, well, you're missing out.<br/><br/>SLAP.<br/><br/>The sound startles me, but I recognise it immediately. I've heard it often enough over the past few weeks. An upturned palm on bare ass. Immediately my mind pictures Andi striking mummy. There is no premeditation to it. It seems to have taken me no time to reconcile my desire for the woman who has cared for me all of my 17 years. In my mind, that is all the more reason to bed her. A way I can give back for all the time she's invested in me. A way I can repay her for all the sacrifices. A way for us to be more than just mother and son.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://media.tumblr.com/b75cd00ca7265c9477ab5dabe829fb3d/tumblr_inline_mtci4yhLuU1rr6ht5.gif)</div>I understand such wants are nothing short of abominable. I appreciate that there are rules that should never be broken and incest is probably at the top of that list. I still get undeniably hard thinking about mummy's mouth around my big, hard cock. Whatever happens next is simply human nature. Or at the very least mine.<br/><br/>Long fingers curl around the thick shaft. Slowly and gently, they work up and down. Precum pools at the tip as I lean back against the massage table. I feel it twitching, as if self-pleasure was the abhorrent thing. Images of what awaits me soon spring up. Wandering hands and ragged breaths and feral screams. I stroke myself harder, a little moan spilling out, my body arching out. "Oh God..."