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didn't stop running until she reached the safety of her car. She had to get
home, had to get home to the safety of the arms of the one male who cared for
her, had to get home to the safety of her son's arms.
Chapter 6
By the time she reached the safety of the quiet beach house Sheila had
managed to regain some semblance of self-control after her terrible ordeal.
Her experience had been not only a physical ordeal but an emotional one as
well. Not only had she suffered physical torment at the hands of the brutal
rapists, but her image of herself had suffered too.
In the years since her divorce, Sheila had considered herself too good for
the many men who had lusted after her, had considered herself apart from
them. All men were bastards, and she had had no intention of submitting
herself to their desires.
Little had she suspected that even she could succumb to the powerful urges of
her long-denied desires. She had of course been forced to submit to the
desires of the brutal men in the theater, but she had entered the place of
her own free will and she had to admit that she had enjoyed, in a strange
way, the depravity of the situation. Her sex-life had taken a new turn.
She had allowed herself to spy on her son for several days of course, had
even allowed herself to admit that she loved the boy in a way no woman dared
to love her son. She had even climaxed while Terry and Wendy fucked together
on the beach.
But she had lusted after her handsome young son from afar, from the safety of
distance. But now she had allowed herself to be sucked into the whirlpool of
sexual activity of the most depraved kind imaginable. She had sucked a young
boy's cock, had allowed several horny men to fuck her and use her wickedly.
Although the men had filled her with revulsion, she still longed for the
body-racking orgasm that had been so close in the theater.
Now that she had experienced real fucking and sucking again after so long
without it, she knew that her attraction toward her son would pull her to him
until she had what she so desperately wanted, until she had him in a wild
night of incestuous fucking and sucking.
She knew that it was inevitable now, this union with her only son. It was
only a matter of time now. She was powerless to fight the lust she felt for
him. She only hoped that she could make him understand, hoped that she could
make him want her as desperately as she wanted him.
The lights were off in the house when she reached home. Not wanting to
disturb Terry, not wanting him to see her in such a state of disorder, Sheila
tiptoed up to her room. She saw that it was after three in the morning. She
wanted to fall into bed and sleep for days, but she was covered with the
dried sperm of a dozen men.
She had to wash away the last traces of the brutal monsters, had to wash them
out of her mind as well. She stripped off her tattered cum-splattered clothes
and threw them in a hamper. Tomorrow she would burn them.
Sheila walked naked down the hall to the bathroom, being very careful not to
wake her son, whose room was only a short way down the hall from hers. She
stepped into a hot shower and luxuriated in the softening warmth of the
spray. She lathered herself freely and finally felt clean again after her
night of shame and torment. Things didn't look nearly as bad now. Her bruises
would go away. The itch in her recently violated cunt was quite another
matter.
Sheila couldn't resist dipping her sudsy hands between her slippery-wet legs
and stroking the hot gash that had been getting her into so much trouble
lately. She could still remember the feel of a hard thick cock buried deep in
her hot twat, could still feel the animal warmth of it between her legs,
could still feel it rubbing hard against her turgid little clitoris. Her clit
was as hot as a tiny flame burning between the lips of her moist cunt.
She touched her clit. She shivered when she felt the tip of her own finger
against the flesh of her super-sensitive clit. She had to do it. She had to
make herself flash, had to make her cunt burn with the rushing heat of her
orgasm.
Leaning back against the cold shower wall, she abandoned herself to the dark
desires that drove her wild. She closed her eyes and imagined that her son
was in the shower with her. She imagined that her horny son stood before her,
holding his long hard cock in his hand, offering his cock to her, offering
his body for her pleasure.
She imagined herself falling to her knees and taking Terry's enormous smooth
erection in both hands, running her fingers all over the slippery shaft. She
imagined herself looking up at him and smiling her sexiest smile, imagined
seeing his boyish grin spreading over his face as he watched his mother
stroke his hard-on. She imagined herself running her thumb from the root of
his cock to the head, making a drop of pre-cum fluid ooze from the eye-slit.
She imagined herself bending toward the boy and pursing her wet lips,
imagined herself pressing those wet warm lips against the dripping head of
her son's cock.
Sheila's eager fingers worked faster and faster against the silken flesh of
her cunt as she imagined all the wild things she could do with Terry.
She imagined rubbing a washcloth against her son's furry groin, making a
cloud of suds around his jutting cock. She imagined taking his balls in her
wet hands, squeezing them, kneading them gently, weighing the sperm-filled
eggs, making her son groan with excitement. She imagined feeling the boy's
strong young body become suddenly hard when she plunged down over his bulging
cock, somehow managing to get his huge cock-head into her pretty mouth. She
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