Barbara shot to her feet and muttered a barely intelligible apology as she rushed from the room in a panic. She hurried up the stairs, into her room, and then locked herself into her bathroom. She turned on the shower hotter than usual and got under the spray to wash the sticky residue of her son's cum off her skin, as if that would be enough to wash away the overwhelming love and desire that went with it.

"How could I let this happen?" she asked herself.

She couldn't regret how much she loved her son or treating him as much like a friend as a son. But then, maybe...