Worry

"Mom!"

You run over to her side, all lewd thoughts gone and the only thing you can think of right now is the ankle she just twisted and her head that slammed against the corner of the still open door.

Squatting down, you instinctively put a hand on both to check the extent of the damages when reality strikes.

You're grabbing on to your still orgasming mother, the light of your life, and the subject of hundreds if not thousands of personal, secret fantasies while you masturbate.

And you *still* hadn't relieved your erection yet!

She continues to writhe on the ground for another fifteen seconds, her pussy occasionally sending out jets of liquid that only makes the hand grabbing on to it and her tit squeeze tighter, and she tries to focus her eyes on you to tell you something.

"G-go, get ou-"

And is rocked by more spasms.

And she produces more moans.

The female body is a wonderful thing.

While her beautiful breasts and ass are jiggling under the **** of the most powerful orgasm of her life, brought on by a combination of pain, pleasure and humiliation, she finally gets enough presence of mind to push you away from where you are staring, awestruck, trying to burn every detail of the moment into your brain while simultaneously internally fussing over her injuries.

Unfortunately, she chose to push you by the stomach, where your dick that had popped free from the elastic waistband of your sweatpants was standing up proudly, and as her hand reached it, her orgasm betrayed her once again and she was wracked by waves of pleasure, gripping hard on to your dick and practically *vibrating* as she continues to suffer her blissful little ****, on the carpeted floor of her room.

Her orgasm lasted two agonizingly eternal minutes, and there came a point about halfway through when she was able to make a coherent thought again that wasn't about her betrayer of a pussy or the thick cock in her hand that she thought it might never end.

And maybe a smaller part in you, that hoped it wouldn't.