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She took the dildo in one hand, and with the other lifted one of my legs, then quickly slid the dildo into my tight anus. I fought back tears from the pain and humiliation of it, and she continued to pump the dildo into my ass while rubbing her pussy into my mouth.“Hey! Keep sucking my clit or I’ll have to bust out my 10 inch dildo!”Fear for my anus, I sucked her clit harder and faster than I’d ever done before.“MMmmmmmm.... Yeah, that’s it. Keep going like that!” she cried out.While she was rocking back and forth on my face, she was also letting out some of the rankest farts I’d ever smelled.*BBBRRRRPPPPPP* *HISSSSSSS* *PBBBBBBBBT*They just kept coming, one after another. In between her long, smelly farts she would lean back, shoving my nose right up into her anus and cutting off my air until she had to let another one go. I kept licking her clit like my life depended on it, hearing her moan with pleasure. As she grinded, the glorious globes of her butt kept crashing down on my face,. He was starting to become touchy-feely with her. Hugging her more, always wanting to give her a kiss, offering to give her massages, and putting his arm around her when they would watch tv together. She also noticed that whenever her current boyfriend was around, there was tension between Chris and him. All the signs pointed to one thing. Chris had a definate attraction to Diane. The more she thought about it, the less it seemed to bother her. It obviously wasnt the first time a boy had an attraction to his mother, and besides, she was sexy and she knew it. What normal guy wouldnt look at her that way? It started to flatter her, the more she thought about it. Chris had given up hope of seducing his mom, when one day she came in from work and went straight to her room. He could hear her in there masturbating, so he went to his room and jacked off. He figured that this time he would make no effort to not be heard, since she obviously didnt. Diane could hear her.
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Fucking hell, was I horny? I came so hard on my fingers that my legs weakened, and I only managed to remain standing by holding on to the dressing table with my free hand. The thoughts in my head, the fantasy scene I’d created, had given me the strongest orgasm I’d had for a long time. As I recovered my breath, I felt a light had gone on in my brain. Some friends told me that the best sex is in the head, far more important than the actual physical act. Get horny in your mind and the rest will be fireworks. I’d never understood that, never got it. Sex had always been good but it was saved for the bedroom. That’s where intimacy took place: no build up or fantasies, that never felt right. That had been as much my fault as my husband’s. No, being honest, it had been my fault. Mike tried to titillate outside the bedroom, suggest things and touch me sexually, but I knocked him back, saying, “Not now, it’s not the right place.” Or, “Shush, our daughter may hear.” But, right then, clinging.

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