I'm tucked soundly in my bed in my most comfortable pajamas when I am awakened by someone touching me. I look up to see my son standing over me moving his hand up my shirt. I know you are wondering why I am not stopping him. Well, it's probably my fault this is happening. After my divorce I threw myself into my work and taking the best possible care of my son that I could. I've had no time for dating. But I'm a woman in my prime and my hormones have really been raging lately. I've found myself being extra touchy-feely with my son, giving him really tight hugs mashing my big tits against his chest. I know he's noticed, and he's been looking at me differently. And now it has culminated into this, him coming into my bedroom in the middle of the night to give me what he knows I want so desperately. I try weakly to tell him it is wrong and we shouldn't do this but he knows that deep down I don't really feel that way. I want this. I want him to touch me. I want him to fuck me