The son fucked his mom while massaging her

My breath caught in my throat. This was not right. My son was touching me in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He unhooked my bra, revealing my full breasts. His eyes were fixed on them, his gaze intense and hungry. He reached out and touched one of my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body.

I tried to speak, but no words came out. I felt trapped, both physically and emotionally. He leaned in and kissed me on the neck, his lips hot and demanding. His hands moved down to my thighs, spreading them apart. He then reached for my vagina, his fingers probing gently at first, then with increasing urgency.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “Do you want me?”

I was lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions: fear, shame, and an undeniable desire that I couldn’t control. My body responded to his touch, my clitoris throbbing with anticipation.

“Yes,” I whispered, the word barely audible.

He entered me slowly, his cock thick and hard against my walls. Pain mingled with pleasure as he pushed deeper, filling me completely. I gasped, arching my back into him. He groaned, his hands gripping my hips tightly. We moved together, our bodies a tangled mess of limbs and desire.