I move back to the dressing table and pick up the bottle of baby oil. I straddle the back of your thighs, not easy to do as your ankles are still tie... to each corner of the bed, and drizzle the oil over your buttocks. The oil is cold and you whimper a little, your body squirming in surprise. I watch the oil run between your buttocks and down past your pussy. I grip your buttocks with each hand and part them; I can see your anus like a little pink star and you begin to get agitated because. For most of that night I stayed in my room curled on my bed and felt ashamed guilty, and like the worst mother on the face of the planet. I cursed myself for everything I could think of for allowing that to take place. Yet at the same time my mind replayed what had happened over and over again, and I relived every thrilling detail of my son Mark cumming while watching me cum again and again with a fascinated revulsion. Even as every lurid detail rippled through my mind I questioned myself as to. More

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