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“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh.” The surges of his life-making fluid pushed deep into his mother. He slammed her a few last times and then lay down on her smooth back, his dick still firmly entrenched in her.“I hope ... Sally ... didn’t hear ... that...” Susy panted.“Probably ... not...” Patrick kissed her pale, sweaty shoulder. The whole neighborhood probably heard that. He was sure that his sister had not missed his mom’s wailing. His hips started moving again. The squelch of Susy’s full pussy filled the room.“Oh ... sugar ... again?” Susy looked to her left. She could see her knuckles turn white as her grip tightened again. Her wedding ring glinted at her, half buried in the sheets.“Just ... one ... more ... time.” Patrick lifted himself up, his hands on her lower back for support. “I ... need ... more.”“Oooohhhhh,” Susy squealed.Sally sat on her bed, her back supported by her pillows. She was naked, with her legs spread wide. She worked her love button furiously as she listened to her. Her daughter’s happiness meant nothing. But in spite of this, our love remained strong. I visited her in the dorms and we spent time together. And except for the tears over her mother’s cruel torture, all was love, joy, and butterflies. Lisa felt safe. She felt loved, wanted, and appreciated. She knew she could trust me no matter what happened. She would go home every weekend to have her mother degrade her and threaten her and heap guilt on her head. They threatened to take her car and her money, and tried to convince her that she should listen to her heart. When she said she was, then it changed to never listen to your heart because it is full of lies. Her mother said I was her son for the first time in my life so she could say it was incest. Then she promptly disowned me 1 minute after acknowledging me. Very convenient but it was enough for their pastor to condemn us without even bothering to talk to us or confer with God about it. Each weekend was torture and each time we came.
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