Go to mom

With the engine on and the car in park, you sat there with your head against the wheel and tried in vain to push out the pictures of Amber being spit-roasted by two black men with both hands simultaneously jerking off two more men, the ending scene having her laying in a daze as their jizz splattered all over her face, breasts, and stomach. It was even harder to figure out what exactly was the main attraction now when you saw that video: the fact that it was some of the hardest hard-core sex you had seen...or the fact that the person doing it was your mom.

The words that Saunders and Kelly had said in the office had shaken you: your mom was losing whatever grasp on her old personality as she spent more and more time in the body of Amber Knights...or Stephanie Burke...or whomever the fuck it was now. The sweet, prim, and fun-loving woman that you had grown up and knew as your mother was being replaced by a slut and whore, thanks to her new body feeding her the same sluttiness and whorishness that embodied Amber Knights. Was the worst part of it the fact she didn't know this was even happening?

Or was it the fact that you KNEW it was happening, ever since the beginning when you realized she had begun to experiment with some of the old toys and costumes? Saunders' words made sense: it was her body's way of reaffirming its old habits and fighting the subconscious part of your mother's identity and its aversion to such perverseness. With all the anal exploits, experimenting with glass vibes, and the internet displays, this was all old-school Amber Knights. You could've stopped it...or at least stepped in...but you were too busy jerking off to the idea that you knew one of the hottest porn stars on the planet. It didn't occur to you then, but it sure did now, that you were definitely getting off on the idea that the woman who you fapped to often was now partly your mom. Freud be praised.

You looked back up from the wheel and glanced at the house down the way. Inside was the cocktease, the cumslut, the big-breasted whore of a woman that countless thousands of teens jerked off daily to. The idea that you had somehow an inside track on her would've made you an instant celeb in the eyes of hundreds of college frat boys who could've hooked you up with anything: money, booze, cars, whatever you wanted. All you needed to do was just forget that the woman was also, to that point, someone who you thought you had known.