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"Over," she grunted. "Over. I want you to fuck me . . . fuck me hard." Bobby immediately rolled them over, almost without missing a stroke. He pounded into her with all his might. She began to thrash about under him, throwing herself up and down with abandon, flinging her arms out as she opened herself to his massive meaty shaft. She arched her back to take more of his cock. Her hand slammed against the lamp on the night stand, one of those lamps that come on when the base is touched. Suddenly the room was bathed in light. As she looked into her son's face, she felt the first shot of his cum hit her cervix and felt her own orgasm send chills up her spine, shaking her body into a rapture she could no longer control."Oh my god, no, Bobby, nooo! Oh my god. Ohhh nooo . . . I'm gonna cum, Bobby. I'm your mother and I'm cummming. Ohhhhh god we're fucking and you made me cum! Made me cummmm. Ohhhh Bobby!"As Lisa involuntarily raised her ass off the bed, Bobby buried his cock deep in her. Same as me. Islide out from under the covers as quietly as possible. To my horror. Irealize my chastity and hairlessness are both on display. This just keepsgetting worse. I scurry to the bathroom and squat as is now my custom. As I'm peeing Irealize my ass is pretty sore. I feel even worse. I feel a trickle frommy ass. No please no. I reach my hand to my hole and I feel lubrication.I shudder with the implication. I squeeze my ass muscles and againrealize how sore I really am. I feel a warm fluid ooze onto my fingertips. Looking at it closely it's obviously sperm. I got my ass fucked byGwen last night. I cheated on Sara. God I hope it was Gwen. What if itwas somebody else? I don't even know. I can't remember a goddamn thing. Icheated on Sara. I want to die.I gather my things as quickly and as quietly as possible. I almost makeit when Gwen wakes. I tell him I've got to go home. He understands andfalls right back to sleep. I leave.I see a clock in a bank. The subway doesn't even open.
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“I see,” said Mary, but she didn’t really. Mr. Waite hadn’t mentioned anything about a need for privacy, in fact, he seemed more than willing to answer any of the questions Mary had so far. Mary thought perhaps Mrs. Salt’s own odd behavior might have something more to do with any problems she might have with Mr. Waite. Salt acted more like an adolescent schoolgirl than a woman responsible for the education of a classroom of first graders. “Oh, you must think me a little… well… off,” Mrs. Salt said as if reading Mary’s mind. She started to giggle but cut herself off with a sour look. She flicked a piece of intrusive hair out of her face with her hand. “You have to be a little off to work at Joyhouse Saints, you know. The kids… well, you can see for yourself. Just look at them play. If you can call it that,” she said, her voice dropping low. She pointed one of her bony fingers towards the barren field that served as a playground behind the cafeteria and gym. At first, Mary didn’t know.

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