They sizzled and seared inside my virgin flesh, swelling me towards my first true incestuous orgasm.This was far better than grinding on her face like...I did last night. That was masturbating. She was actually licking me this time. Her tongue was teasing all my folds. Her lips were nibbling on my labia. Enough light bled through my window from the approaching dawn for me to see my mother’s eyes. They were glassy with lust, liquid with her passion.“I love you, Mom,” I moaned. I didn’t want to be. Then we isolate that experience and feed it to Keith. He themlives it as the woman did. He feels as she felt and knows what she knows.It all seems like it is happening to him. It doesn't matter the order wefeed these experiences to him. He can be a scared sixteen year old oneminute and then a horrified forty year old the next and then a frightenedthree year old. It doesn't matter he'll feel everything they felt andit'll be just as real to him as it was to them. It doesn't matter if. More

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