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To her sore disappointment, the incubus was anything but glad to see himself being nursed in the cave of a wolf girl. It was to be expected, Rosalie told herself. In the days when she ran in the forest, excited with the task at hand, she had momentarily forgotten that her blood was despised by every race on this land; it was the reason why she found herself living in a cave in a quiet part of the forest. She even entertained fantasies about the incubus waking up and thanking her and embracing her — and perhaps giving her a taste of the legendary pleasure a woman could experience with an incubus. “I found you dying in the forest,” she said. “I think a bear might have attacked you — it was a bear, wasn’t it? The gash was only something the claws of a bear could make. I took you to my cave, do you remember that? You’ve been sleeping for four days. It’s a miracle that you haven’t died from your wounds, they were so terrible, but luckily, I found you so..." The incubus’s eyes regarded. 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 perversion that she had just a) seen her son and his languid drooping cock swing right before her eyes, that she’d seen it swell and lengthen into a throbbing dong. B) That she had essentially just spread her ass.
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