He got the idea and sank his fingers in me as deep as he could. I started moving my hips to the rhythm of his fingers. I looked over at my husband. It...was a good thing the TV was blocking his view. If he could see his son with his fingers deep in his mother’s pussy, I don’t really know what he would do. My whole body was starting to respond to his fingers. Without warning he pulled his fingers out of me. I felt disappointed. That didn’t last long. My son started unbuttoning my dress. He started. The pain was getting unbearable now and I had dried my tear reserve. I opened my eyes again. Being upright I could see myself and Malcolm in the bathroom mirror. He had the expression of a brute stabbing a victim. Vicious and mercilessly stabbing my aching rectum. We locked eyes in the mirror's reflection. Sweat beads all over his face. My face was covered in saliva, smudged eye make-up, duct tape across my mouth, messy hair tangled and matted full of semen. I guess that look really made his. More

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