Chapter 743 Taking This Pussy:>9

• Guilt. Again.
• When I awoke, guilt seemed to coat the surface of my heart like a shadowy film. For the span of a few seconds, I could hardly comprehend the reason for it, but there it was. Guilt. Shame. Regret. It was as if my conscience never slept, but stood immortally over my shoulder, scowling at me as I slept, meeting me with a severe scowl as soon as I became conscious. When my mind focused to form a coherent stream of thought, I realized where the feeling was coming from.
• I was lying in my bed under the covers, my son's slumbering body draped limply over mine. We were both naked, our legs tangled and his penis glued to my behind, not quite hard, but warm and noticeable. Realization came, remembrance resurfaced and scenes of last night's transgression played in my mind. The shame bloomed as it justified its accusations with evidence from my own memory; with every master stroke of my son's egregious cock that came to mind and every secret, tingling sensation it presently brought to my very core. The shame didn't necessarily grow but rather swelled, as if inhaling, puffing itself up. Truthfully, I'd felt five times worse after the first night we shared a bed. But somewhere deep down I knew the guilt should have been worse.