Incestuous desires ignite in cramped closet

In the dim light of the closet, the mother's and son's eyes meet, the air thick with unspoken desire. Their bodies gravitate towards each other, the son's hands finding their way to his mother's hips. She gasps softly as he pulls her against him, feeling his hardness pressing into her. "We can't," she breathes, but her resistance is weak, and they both know it. The son's hands slide up her sides, cupping her breasts through her thin shirt. She moans, her head falling back, giving him access to her neck. He takes the invitation, his lips and tongue exploring her sensitive skin, his hands continuing their exploration, pushing her shirt up, eager to feel her bare skin.

• mecon

• Unknown