LOGINHe finishes inside me. Second time without protection. The shower washes away the evidence but not the reality. We don't speak. Don't need to. The water runs between us, over us, through us.
Outside, Venice continues its morning ritual, indifferent to the small transgressioStarts moving. Withdrawing. Pushing back in. Finding rhythm. The slap of skin on skin.'So deep. So tight. Fuck, Mum.'My cunt's clenching. Empty. Neglected.James is shifting in the chair. Heavy breathing. Can't stay still. His chair scrapes against the floor.'He looks jealous, Mum. Maybe he wishes he could fuck you too? But no. You are for me only, yes?''Yes.'Stefan reaches round. Fingers find my clit. Circles it. Teasing. 'Mum is so wet. Her cunt drips for me. Maybe he can help though. You want to use Mum's mouth? Whilst I fuck her arse?'James practically leaps up. Nearly trips over his own feet getting there. 'Yeah. Yes.''Come. Use her mouth. But remember, she is mine. She is my mother. You just borrow.'James appea
So. Berlin. Three-day holiday. Just the two of us.'Mum and son city break,' I'd told my colleagues at the university. Nobody questioned it. Why would they?The flat's all glass and chrome, sixteenth floor, overlooking the grey sprawl of the city. Rented for the weekend. Nothing like that ancient palazzo.Saturday morning. Last full day here. Tomorrow we fly home and back to our separate lives, back to pretending we're just mother and son who have Sunday lunch together occasionally. Me giving my lectures on Victorian poetry. Him to his job in the City.James is in the kitchen making coffee. Naked. Always naked now when we're alone together. The sex (still taboo, yes) it's become cold, how do I even explain this? We've crossed the ultimate line and n
He finishes inside me. Second time without protection. The shower washes away the evidence but not the reality. We don't speak. Don't need to. The water runs between us, over us, through us.Outside, Venice continues its morning ritual, indifferent to the small transgression in one of its countless rooms. The city has seen it all before.The woman I became in Venice. The one who took both her son and his friend. Who watched and participated in depraved acts. She's the real me. The one I'd kept caged for decades. Would you have the courage to free yours?---[echoes through ancient walls]Same dawn. Same palazzo. Different room. But this part's not my story. It's Maggie's.Maggie wakes to the gentle rock of the building. Impercepti
[steam and secrets]I wake first, the sheets damp from humidity and last night's activities. The distinctive sound of water lapping against the palazzo's foundations rises from below, a gentle percussion that's become the soundtrack to our stay. A distant church bell tolls from across the lagoon, San Giorgio Maggiore marking six, the bronze notes reverberating across the water, seeming to make the air itself vibrate. Beyond the windows, I can smell the peculiar morning scent of Venice, slightly briny, with hints of diesel from the early morning vendors' boats motoring through narrow canals.I slip from bed, careful not to wake my son. The word still catches in my throat. Last night we'd... Christ. I glance back at his sleeping form, sheets tangled around his
Maggie straddles my face, grinding her wet cunt against my mouth. Tan silk thighs smothering me. 'Lick me while your son tongue-fucks you. Always wanted to sit on your face'.Danny is watching, stroking his thick hard cock. 'Fuck me, she's taking it like a mummy fuck toy'.'Call her that', Maggie orders. 'She gets wetter when you degrade her. Don't you, professor?'Moaning agreement into Maggie's cunt as James pushes two fingers inside me alongside his tongue.'Look at her slutty holes, all ready for cock', Maggie announces. 'Which one first, boys?''Flip her over', Danny suggests, voice thick. 'Want to see her arse up, face down'.They untie me only to flip me onto my stomach, re-securing wrists to headboard. Bum raised high, face pressed
British mothers taste forbidden fruit with their sons.WARNING: All characters are 18+ and should know better. This story contains explicit adult content involving taboo relationships. If that's not your cup of tea, best sod off elsewhere.So I fucked my son, and my best friend and her son. There. Said it. Written down. Can't take it back now can I? Venice last week. Of all the places.Shocked? Fair enough. I've gone from analysing Oedipus Rex to living it. Freud would have a bloody field day. Still reading though? Course you are. Want to know how it happened, don't you? It's quite the story.---[that last glass of prosecco]'Found something', James holds up dusty wine bottle on our final night in Venice. 'Housekeeper sa
"You're right. Sorry, Mom," Elayne said once she'd finished coughing and had caught her breath. Her eyes almost imperceptibly flicked over in my direction, but she didn't say anything to me.For my part, my mouth suddenly felt insanely dry. Holy shit. I was right. My sister was wearing a vibrator.
Introduction:In the soft glow of a family dinner, Erik's usual task of grabbing his twin sister Elayne’s grades takes an unexpected turn. Amidst the familiar chaos of her room, he stumbles upon a sleek, enigmatic remote—a gadget that seems to hum with untold possibilities. As his fingers glide ove
Elayne was sitting cross-legged on the foot of my bed, looking directly at me. "We need to talk.""We need to talk."The words sent a jolt of alarm racing down my spine as I closed the door to my room behind me. A series of questions rapidly flashed through my head. What the hell was my sister doin
And then her eyes slightly rolled upward, her mouth opened wide, and her entire body violently trembled. She came, and hard by the looks of it, without making a single sound. The sight was more than I could take after everything that had just gone on and I'm not at all proud to say that I exploded,









