Sinkcest

I see the sprayer next to the sink and my recall my very first orgasm in my parent's house. It was late at night and I took the shower handle and placed it between my legs, bucking my hips back and forth against the firm spray of warm water until I came. I know I have time before he comes home, at least a couple hours. "It'll just take a second," I hear my mouth try to convince my body. I peel off my clothes and hop onto the cool, granite counter top. I test the water, it works, and it's warm. I start to wash myself, treating it like a sort of foreplay, I let the warm water run through my fingers, up my arms, focus on the water dancing on my abdomen, my breasts, my nipples, yes-- it feels good, it feels wrong. I feel a pit in my stomach, the same sense of "this is wrong" when I would feel as a teen trying not to get caught masturbating with the shower handle. I smile, reminiscing feels good, I've been so tired lately, but today I feel awake, and shameless. I hear the door open, and my son tip-toe in. I prop my ass up so he could get a view of my body, I point my toes as I let the water wash over my legs, splashing onto the ceramic floor. I know he's watching, and I pretend he's not my son, but a handsome young man like the gorgeous young man I met at a club I hear him walk towards me, and I feel wet.. I'm not thinking, but allowing my body to take over. He walks into the kitchen and I pretend to be surprised. I convince him to take off his clothes, to pretend with me, pretend that I'm not his mother. He predictably pulls down his pants, my young man wants to please me. I smile. I'm letting my body take over, I don't think, I just let it happen. It's been so long. I've been so good. I want to be bad, and why not? Don't judge me, just watch what happens next and you'll understand that sometimes, in some circumstances, you must surrender to your instincts.