..Oh, yes!" she breathed again. I started to slide my stiff length in and out, aware of just how unbelievably hard I was. It felt so good to be doing ...his. To be fucking my mother. I loved it, and apparently she loved the thought that she was being fucked by her son. We kept going. My hips moving steadily up and down, her hips moving with mine. I could hear her breathing and realizing that I was breathing hard, too. Again and again my boner moved purposefully in and out of her warm, wet vagina.. The next day was much like the last. Most of the day was taken up with long periods where I was just left alone in the dark with nothing but my own thoughts for company. Then in the evening Sandra would torture me for kicks. That evening she had her Uncle chain me to a post so she could throw a ball for me to retrieve.Every time she tortured and demeaned me what little love I had for her died and rage burned in me. I became more like the animal she thought me. The animal part of me wanted to. More

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