I stood in the shadows, observing Jeanne Catherine LaMonica as she busied herself in the kitchen. Her grey hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her eyes, though worn, held a quiet beauty. I had chosen her carefully for this… arrangement. She was the perfect pawn in my game.
My gaze drifted to her son, Anthony, sitting at the table, his youthful face filled with an unhealthy obsession. He was the key to unlocking Jeanne’s desires, and soon, they would both surrender to the taboo pleasure I would provide.
I approached Jeanne, my raven hair cascading down my back. “Mrs. LaMonica, I brought dessert,” I said, handing her a plate of chocolate mousse. My eyes locked with hers, my expression a perfect blend of innocence and seduction.
Jeanne’s cheeks flushed as she took the plate, her eyes dropping to the decadent treat. “Thank you, Rhea. You’re too kind,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.
I smiled, my intentions clear. “Please, call me Rhea. We’re friends, aren’t we?” I purred, leaning in close. My fingers brushed against her arm, sending a shiver through her aging frame.
As the evening unfolded, I expertly guided the conversation, seeding the grounds for what was to come. Anthony’s arousal was palpable, his eyes glued to his mother with an unwholesome longing. Jeanne, oblivious to the trap I had set, busied herself serving dinner, her back to us.
I reached out, my hand resting on Anthony’s thigh beneath the table. His sharp intake of breath was music to my ears. “Perhaps we should play a game tonight, Anthony,” I whispered, my voice dripping with suggestive intent. “Something to… bring the family closer together.”
Anthony’s face lit up, his eyes wild with excitement. “Whatever you say, Rhea,” he breathed, his hands fidgeting with anticipation.
As the night wore on, I orchestrated the final act of my plan. Jeanne, lulled into a false sense of security, was caught off guard as Anthony abruptly pulled her into his embrace, his mouth crashing against hers in a passionate kiss.
I watched, a satisfied smile on my lips, as Jeanne’s initial shock gave way to a burning desire. Her hands roamed over Anthony’s body, her touch firm and needy. The air was thick with the scent of lust and taboo as I guided them to the couch, where the son eagerly shed his clothes, exposing his young, virile form.
Jeanne’s eyes widened, but she made no move to stop him as he positioned himself between her parted thighs. I knelt beside them, my hand reaching for Anthony’s hardened cock. With a tender caress, I guided him to Jeanne’s eager mouth.
“Open for me, Mom,” Anthony cooed, his voice husky with need. Jeanne complied, her lips wrapping around his throbbing member as if starsved for the taste.
As she sucked, her eyes met mine, filled with a primal hunger I had awakened. I watched, mesmerized, as she pleasured her own son, her hands roaming his body, exploring the curves and contours of youth she had once known.
Anthony’s hips bucked, driving his cock deeper into Jeanne’s mouth. I reached down, my fingers finding her wetness, stroking her clit in time with her son’s thrusts. Jeanne’s moans grew louder, more desperate, as her orgasm built. I could feel the tension coiling in her, the release imminent.
With a final, powerful suck, Anthony pushed Jeanne over the edge. She convulsed, her body arching as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her son’s seed shot down her throat, and she swallowed it greedily, her eyes never leaving mine.
As the haze of ecstasy lifted, Jeanne collapsed back onto the couch, a satisfied smile on her lips. Anthony lay beside her, his chest heaving with exertion. I sat between them, my hand resting on Jeanne’s knee, a silent acknowledgment of the forbidden pleasure we had shared.
In that moment, I knew I had succeeded. The taboo had been broken, and the lines of morality blurred. Jeanne and Anthony, forever changed, would now seek out this dark, twisted bliss together, their secret bond strengthened by the depraved act I had instigated.
And I, Rhea, the manipulative temptress, would bask in the knowledge that I had orchestrated their downfall, guiding them down a path of incestuous desire that would consume them both, body and soul. The game was won, and the prize was their eternal despair.
Rhea Stephens
888-750-4746 ext 868
https://thesincenter.com/rhea