That sight alone, even through half closed eyes was enough to send me off into another wave of orgasms, my cunt quivering insanely once again, and me ...oaning even louder than before, but by the time I came down from my lust driven high, my son had made a hurried escape to keep me from fully seeing him. 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, even as my slit kept oozing the last remains of my self. "We got this thing set up, the dildo in my pussy and his ass, and we start to do this rocking back and forth, super dirty-talking backward fuck thing, kind of hot, kind of comical, too. I mean, nobody has sex this way. In the midst of all this, I had a thought about Edith Piaf's gown. Views of that gown never entirely left my mind in those days. When Judy was around, or Rachel was, or when I was alone in my house, I would carefully remove it from the velvet garment bag, walk around my bedroom. More

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