dylan vox

“I love that part so much!” I purred. “The way his knot pulls against my entrance as he's thrusting! Holding him inside so he can't pull away!” I shuddered with arousal, imagining just how I knew it felt as I watched it happening to my own mother instead. “You should play with your clitty, Mom,” I told her. “Brucie's way faster to cum than Daddy is—you probably won't be able to get off on the fucking alone, not unless you help yourself out. In fact...” I thought about it, then moved to act, resting my palm on her mound and using the tips of my fingers to tickle her clit. “Actually, never mind; I'll do it for you this time. You just concentrate on how good it all feels, and try to let yourself cum!”

“Good boy, Brucie!” I moaned, pressing my titties to the floor and rapidly rubbing my fingertips over my clit. “Show Mommy our magic trick, Brucie! Show Mommy how I make that doggie-dick disappear!”

He had never told her what he and Alexis spoke of that snowy morning, never told her the real reason why he had helped her break free of Galvin. If he did, how would she react? Would she become disheartened, accusing him of toying with her for his own selfish desires because he couldn’t let go of the past? Or would she go with it, try to take up the role of his long-departed wife, forsaking her identity, her future, and her relationship with Alexis just to receive his affection? Neither was an outcome he wanted.