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My hand came up her body as I pressed my naked self into her back; my hands came around to the front of the towel. She had ample cleavage, and I toyed with it for a few moments where the cloth met her soft flesh; sticking my finger down between her two breasts, I tugged lightly, and the wrapped towel came loose to fall at her feet. She pushed herself back into me, my cock sliding between her butt cheeks. Pressing in a bit, I was wrapped in warmth as she stood on her toes and came down a few times, stroking me. My hands slid down from her breasts and around her. I took a step back and let my hands slowly stroke her back and drift down, pushing her forward, bending her over the sink. My hand came to the small of her back. Last night I had discovered that she loved when I stroked there just above her ass. I used my palms to apply gentle pressure, rubbing up her back, then down again. My right hand finally came between her legs. She slowly parted them for me as my index finger started. ."He moaned in protest, as I gently pushed him from my nipple, and then turned his eyes up to mine and I smiled."... fuck me again," I whispered, almost begging him. I sat up slightly and moved forward so his cock could enter me. And when I sank down onto him, we wrapped our arms around each other, rocking back and forth, our bodies embracing tightly. Our lips came together and we kissed passionately for a very long time, sitting on the bed of a darkened hotel room having incestuous intercourse. As Mark kissed my neck, he mumbled softly, "God, you're fucking beautiful." I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, sighing happily. As wrong as I knew this to be, it felt so amazingly right, physically and emotionally. I felt as though I had come to know my own son so much better through our illicit act. I felt as close to him as my husband of twenty-one years. I knew him so much better now. There was nothing we couldn't share between us, nothing we couldn't talk about, and nothing more to.
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