The boy just stands there, mimicing a deer that has been caught in a car's pair of headlights, as he feels his mother's eyes on him.

Nor does he move until he feels her hand on him, pulling his own hand away and allowing the gown to fall down over his jutting hardness, leaving a large tent affect.

"Come." She tells him as she pulls him by the hand out of his room and into hers. All the way, he is acutely aware of her large breasts as they wobble inside her gown.

Once inside, she lets go of his hand and takes her usual place on the bed underneath the sheets. He just stands there, watching.

"Come." She says again, lifting up the sheet to allow him to get in. With a now practiced ease courtesy of their previous times together, he is soon laying between his mother's legs, their bodies shielded by the bedclothes. Like many times before, he feels her hand on him as she starts to guide him into her.

Hell! I haven't put on any cream!

He tries to say something when he feels some warm and wet nudge the tip of his turgid erection. Then her hand is pushing on his ass and he groans as he feels himself slide into a tight couldron of liquid heat...