Beating Mama: Taboo Incest Erotica E-Book

Robin Banks

• Herausgeber: Palimpsest Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Warning: Very taboo. Not for the faint of heart. May include BDSM, incest, and other taboo and forbidden elements. This is a vintage **full length** (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel.

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But, deep down in her guts, she knew why. She was horny. That was the only word -- horny. Sweet, loving, faithful Carla was horny. She was prowling in her son's room, naked, after masturbating, because she was still frantically horny, desperate for sexual satisfaction.

Even from her own son? The thought shocked her to the core, but she couldn't ignore it. Charlie was, after all, eighteen. He was the spitting image of his father. The fact that she was Charlie's mother, had borne him, meant nothing to her, did nothing to quench her aching sexual frustration.

But, God, what would happen if he came home and found her like this? He'd be devastated, alienated. It would rip the two of them apart, would demolish what was left of the family. Charlie was just a kid, psychologically. To find his mother naked in his room, probing into his private belongings would destroy his faith in her, and shatter him emotionally, destroy their relationship.
 

Leseprobe

Beating Mama

Robin Banks

Copyright © 2017

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER ONE

Her nerve fibers squirmed in response to the stimulation. She writhed sensuously on the big bed. Her head was up on a pillow so she could see her reflection in the mirror at the foot of the bed. She tried to ignore the lewd sight of the cigar tube going in and out of her twat, but couldn't. She couldn't take her eyes off her naked body. At forty, with a teenage son, she was as youthfully firm as she had been at his age. But her tits had a mature thrust no teenager ever have. Her nipples, dark and long and erect, were conical, textured buds that had nursed a baby, fed and nurtured a tiny, sucking mouth.

Carla brushed a lock of jet-black hair off her forehead. She continued to move the aluminum cylinder in and out of her ravenous cunt. The folds of her gash, glowing petals of rosy flesh, framed her cunt mouth. The substitute cock slid smoothly in and out, in and out of her dribbling hole. It had none of the ripples and resistance a real cock had.

God! How fantastic Chuck's cock had been. Just thinking about his big beautiful prick and how it had filled her made her cunt contract. It made her eyes sting, too.

"Damn, damn, damn," Carla moaned. "Why'd you have to go and get killed, damm!" she asked aloud. "Damn it all, Chuck?"

In the face of the echoing, lonely silence that was her only answer, she retreated to her masturbation. Parting her cuntlips carefully with two fingers, she tormented the pearl of her clitoris and writhed in the pallid simulation of fucking.

She found a picture of her son forming in her mind. He looked too much like his dead father. Charlie was tall, broad-shouldered, trim-hipped. His hair was the same lush brown shade, had the same sexy waviness. When he smiled, he looked so much like his father it made Carla's throat knot.