Barbara shot to her feet and muttered a barely intelligible apology as she rushed from the room in a panic. She hurried up the stairs, into her room, and then locked herself into her bathroom. She turned on the shower hotter than usual and got under the spray to wash the sticky residue of her son's c*m off her skin, as if that would be enough to wash away the overwhelming love and desire that went with it.
"How could I let this happen?" she asked herself.
She couldn't regret how much she loved her son or treating him as much like a friend as a son. But then, maybe she'd put too much effort in making herself look good enough to make him proud. Maybe she shouldn't have dressed in ways to highlight her huge, still firm and shapely t**s. And her long, toned dancer's legs and ass. Had all her
