It was cute. She was about to break into a gushing smile or tremble with fear."Where Sir?" she asked and I smiled.I took her wrists lightly into my fist and applied just enough pressure to move her without bruising. I pushed forward as I stepped and she stumbled slightly, her eyes locked on mine. When the back of her legs hit the table both of us stopped."Where do you think?" I said. My voice fell deep before my smile rose. I reached down and tugged at the hem of her panties till they parted the lips of her pussy, until she rose to her tip-toes, until I heard them begin to rip. Her hands found their way to my biceps and gripped them hard for balance. I tugged harder on her underwear and she yelped, digging her nails into my arms as I drew the torn garment wet from between her lips.I traced them slowly up her torso as though I was drawing her - as though she was a work of art. I told her to open her mouth and she complied. I pushed the panties deep until there was no risk of them. I leaned in close, carefully trimming them. Her swollen labia lay open, revealing the pinkish interior. They gleamed wetly. A whitish fluid oozed continuously from the lower edge of her pussy. The musky pungent aroma of mom’s arousal overwhelmed my nostrils.“Do you remember that time you watched me and your father fuck by the Christmas tree,” mom asked, her voice low and throaty.“Yes mom! I remember!”“I came really hard knowing you watched your father and I.”“Mom! Please!”“It was then I began craving your cock. Back then, I was ashamed for having such thoughts. It made me fell so depraved to watch my son masturbate while your father fucked me. I began to fantasize it was your cock in me instead of your father’s. I came so hard ... so hard!”“Mom you must stop talking like that!”Mom’s hips pumped slowly as I trimmed the last straggly hair.“Tommy?”“Yes mom.”“I’m not ashamed anymore!”“I need to warm a towel,” I muttered as I stood.I realized I was seeing the effects of Cognitive Decline..
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