Incest Athletic Performance with Mom

[neerathemall]

here's a moment of texting-silence until an image starts to load. It's a picture of Eliza naked from behind, standing in front of the bathroom mirror as she applies cream on her face. This is the same naked body that I've seen countless times in the locker room shower. I know every ripple of muscle, every curve, every tan line that she possesses.
Her nudity is nothing new to me, except in this context I wonder if she had just gotten fucked. God, what a twisted thought. It hurts to think about, or maybe that feeling is something else entirely, a feeling that an ordinary person should never think. My best friend fucked her son. And I'm starting to like it.
Me: I see the image, she's beautiful
Chris: Interested in watching again? I want mom to have a friend who understands, someone she can speak with. I have a plan. Interested?
Me: I might be interested, what's the plan?
Chris: Youll have to come at 9 pm tommorow because mom is busy all day. Im still working on the details. Interested?
Me: I'll be there. Have a good night, and thank you
I put the phone down and ignore the other emails that I was supposed to respond to. This takes precedence over everything. A stirring feeling takes hold of my gut and a fire burns in my groin. I turn the light off and lay in the darkness next to my partner. Part of me wants to have sex, but my mind won't be there. My mind is elsewhere, in Eliza's household.
When I hear my partner sleeping, I reach down and play with myself. Shame can be a powerful aphrodisiac, it seems.
***
By the next night, I'm sitting in my car at 8:51 p.m. down the street from Eliza's home. I'm nervous with my phone in hand, questioning myself. I think of all the reasons I should leave and go home to my family, who think I'm at a social function (which this technically is). I think of all the reasons I should stay and be part of this ill-conceived plan.