A Sticky Situation: Cheating Mommy (2017)

I've been having problems with my son for a long time now, we'e been seeing a psychiatrist for youth counseling. I feel partially responsible for his behavior, I know he got it from me, I have a hard time trying to control my own impulses. I don't try to control my impulses very often, more often I try to hide them, and hiding them means I need to do whatever it takes to lead a separate life.

My life that everyone sees is that I am a devoted wife of an intelligent, albeit troubled boy. I work a part time job, my husband works a full time job where he oftentimes leaves me a lot of room to have fun. I should have fun, right? I got pregnant at a very young age and had to be responsible for years, until he was old enough to look after himself for the most part. Most ladies my age have "lived it up," they went to college and dated guys, partied, and then settled down. It's MY turn to live it up. I'm only got a few more years to look young, so why not make memories? I wear a mini skirt when I go out, I tease on the dance floor, and I shamelessly flirt with guys younger than myself. I do it for me. Don't read this and think I'm a bad person. I'll bet you are judging me, but ask yourself have you ever had the impulse to act on something so dirty it shames you to have the thought? I bet you have, and I bet your judgement is merely jealousy. I'm smart, beautiful, and I have the courage to act on my impulses. Think of it more like my super power.

?Tonight I was going to go out with a guy I've been flirting with at my office. I carefully selected a tight fitting pencil skirt, in scarlet red, and a white bodysuit with no bra,. It's going to be cold in the restaurant and I want him to sit across from me and salivate at my hard little nipples in this nearly transparent white cotton. I slip on my finest jewelry, the gold necklace that my husband bought me for our anniversary. It gave me some pause to wear the necklace, but it really frames my thin clavicle so well; I want to look my best so I'm wearing it. Shameless. I told you I am brave.

I was just about to leave when my keys get stuck in the vent. My bracelet, the gold and white enamel bracelet I've had since High School, got stuck on the screw inside the vent. The bracelet never comes off, it's been a part of my body since I've literally grew into it, it stays on my wrist always. I pull and tug my wrist in every direction trying to break free. I hear the phone ring, it's my beau, if I can get to the phone,he can help! I can't reach it. I sit there, frustrated, sore, waiting until my son comes home.

My son finally arrives 53 minutes later and he does just as I instructed him to, "get Mommy's massage oil, baby, it's in the cabinet." He smoothes the oil down my wrist, my hand, and he pulls me outward, hoping to slide my wrist out of the bracelet, or to oil up the screw to release the bracelet, neither plan works. My cell phone text *bings,* the boy looks at it and sees a penis picture that my beau sent to me! I try to make up some lie, I am an artist of deception, but he digs deeper into my phone, he looks at my photo folder and sees snapshots of me and a different guy. I've always wanted to take explicit sex photos, and I've had them safely locked on my phone with a passcode, but I got stuck before I could turn my phone off. He saw it! He's got a look on his face like I've never seen before, he feels angry, deceived, but his lips are curled in the same way that I curl my own when I am feeling lustful and hot. Is he turned on?

He lifts up my skirt. I panic but try to keep my voice under control. The psychiatrist recommended to always have control over my son by keeping my own emotions under control. I try to hide my shock and horror as he pours the oil all over my butt, he pulls the bodysuit gusset to the side and pours the warm oil over my pussy lips. It feels so good, I try to hide my moan, and then I feel the stinging shock of his hand whipping my ass. The pain following the pleasure of the oil drove me insane, I looked back at my son, I realized that the boy is just like me. He can't control his impulses. He toys with my pussy, fucks me hard from behind, makes me cum twice. I shouldn't like it, I'm his mother, but I do... would you judge my body for reacting from a fuck?

Watch the story unfold..