To claim me as his, just like his father had twenty years ago.“Mom,” Clint grunted, slamming his dick into me. His hot cum pumped into my depths. ...last after blast of incestuous seed flooded my fertile pussy. I gasped, my cunt milking him, massaging out every last drop.I groaned as I stared up at my son. Everything had changed. We had crossed the line into rapture. I shuddered as I felt his seed swimming in my depths. A smile crossed my lips. There was no going back.And I didn't want. Over the course of the year Malvern Hill had become quite a bit more accepted in the community, in spite of the efforts of Lynnette Hershberger. If there had been a breakthrough, it had come the last weekend of September when Bert hosted the Malvern Hill pumpkin toss. This involved a little more promotion and organization than just a line in the Courier; it was widely advertised, and Bert had leaned on some of Emily's Chamber of Commerce Festival contacts to flesh out the event, with such. More

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