“I'm sorry!" he whimpered, he looked close to tears at this point, “I'm sorry,

“Don't be sorry! You're getting a wild ride from Molly Minx, everyone's favorite mom! Just relax and enjoy!"

I slammed my hips down on him so hard my pussy was beginning to ache, but I kept going. Beneath me, Paul looked as if he were ready to cry, but I kept fucking him. He wanted it, he'd said he did. What he didn't want was me acting like Molly and that was tough because it was Molly he wanted.

He never wanted Mary, he wanted my slut alter ego. All men preferred Molly to Mary, even my father before I even knew Molly existed wanted his daughter to be a sex toy, rather than a sweet Little girl. I always thought John was different, but then Paul told me even my husband, the one man I'd loved in my life had been no different.

I felt my own emotions rising up within me. John had lied to me, he hadn't loved me for just who I was, he'd wanted that dirty whore too, but was afraid to say it. After all these years Molly had managed to even take my husband from me.

“This is what you wanted!" I yelled in Paul's face, “This is what all of you wanted! Every fucking man I've ever known, this is all I'm good for!" I yelped as I fucked him even harder.

Paul was crying out as well as I fucked him so hard it must have been painful for him as well.

“Come for me!" I snarled, “Come for your mother! Give it to me! That's what I do, I make men come!"

“Please Mom, please you...oh inside me. Paul gasped and I felt his cock jump

“Yes! Come, come for me you little shit! Stop whining like a baby and be a man and fucking come for me!"

Paul whined pathetically and feeling his cock twitching, I hopped off him, slid between his legs and took him into my mouth. His cock erupted and as Paul whimpered and moaned, I sucked him deeper into my mouth.

I took every drop he had, licking and sucking, expertly milking his cock while keeping every drop in my mouth. When I couldn't coax any more from his spent cock. I slid him carefully from my mouth and stared at him.

Paul looked as if he were an accident victim in shock. His eyes were wide, but dull and he was looking at me as if he wasn't sure of what just happened. Keeping my eyes on his, I opened my mouth and slowly let his cum spill out and form a puddle on his stomach. I spit the last few drops onto him and sitting up on my knees gave him my best made for porn purr,

“Hmm, thanks for the ride, baby boy, you made your slutty mommy very happy." A nasty smirk spread across my face, "Is this where I say, Oh, honey, you're not just my son you're everything to me. I'm so in love with you."

"Get the hell away from me." Paul whispered, tears in his eyes.

“Well, then." I stood up and shrugged, "That wasn't in the script."

Paul sat up staring at sticky mess on his stomach, then looked at me an expression of such disgust, that even as far gone as I was, I couldn't pretend it didn't hurt.

“I hate you." He said, his voice quavering, “I fucking hate you." "Good." I said, my own voice breaking, "That makes two of us."

Turning away from him I walked out of the room towards the bathroom. I was completely naked, but it was a little late for modesty. I envisioned the view from behind, my ass, red from my son smacking me, swaying back and forth.

The camera would zoom in on it getting a view of my glistening pussy from behind, The director would say, ‘Fade to Black’ and the picture would slowly fade away.

I entered the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I turned the shower on as hot as I could stand it and methodically cleaned myself as if after a shoot. After all, that's what it was to some extent.

The final ride of Molly Minx and the one that would cost me my son. It had to be done, I had to show him how wrong it was, didn't I? When I was done washing I stood under the water, then gave in to the trembling in my legs and sank down on the shower floor.

Whether it was rage, the alcohol, all the stress of the last few months, whatever had caused me to lose my mind was wearing off and now a quivering mess, I drew my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them put my head between my knees. As I cried softly, my tears mixing with the hot water running down my body, one thought kept racing through my stunned mind.

I had just raped my son.

I lay on my side and saw the clock change from twelve fifty nine to one am. Just as I'd seen it change to ten, eleven and midnight. I'd cried myself out hours ago, but had continued to replay the horrific scene from earlier over and over.