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?Oh, the head of your cock is so fucking red, it reminds me of something!? She stood up. ?Now, let me remember where I put that. Oh,yeah.? She walked over to her closet and reached up on the top shelf. She pulled out a box that looked like a fishing tackle box. She brought it over to the bed and opened it. ?Here it is,? she stated as she pulled out one of those tomato shaped pincushions and sat it down on the bed. She pulled out a crotchet needle and sat it next to it, ?Oh, we can use this, too!? She then shut the box and sat it on the floor. She held up the pincushion next to my dick, ?Now doesn’t this look just like the head of your cock?? I struggled to look. ?A little, I guess.??It’s bigger, of course, but if we use the shaft too, I’m sure we can make your cock hold as many?? As she was talking, I realized what she was planning and interrupted, ?Please, DON?T!? ?Please don’t what?? she snarled. ?Please don’t smack your rude, interrupting mouth? Please don’t stab. He quickly tried wiping the bathroom down of all the globs of cum he had sprayed. He tossed his mother’s panties back to the floor. Jon wrapped himself in a nice plush cotton towel and darted for his door. On his way out he could see that his mother’s door was open and he worried if she had spotted him. If she had discovered that her son was a dirty piss loving, incest obsessed boy. He darted into his room and closed the door behind him. Pacing around his room hoping she had not seen him, praying that he would never do this again if he wasn’t caught. That he would change his ways if his mother Jennifer would just please, please not have just witnessed his nastiness.Had Jon not hurried from the bathroom to his own bedroom, he might-might have caught a glimpse of something that would have stopped his heart.After leaving the bathroom Jennifer had coolly walked into her own room and purposely left her door ajar while she began to partake in her own nastiness. Overcome with wicked.
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