Roberto and Fabio, two sins may be enough for me

This story would find its rightful place in the ‘confessions’ section, but it is still a story, and it is also good to warn readers that this is about incest. Know, however, everyone knows that the lines they will read are as if they were those of a diary: the diary of a whore and her bizarre fantasies. In the end, instead, a real diary will appear. But everything has its time, and I don’t want to anticipate anything.

Our bedroom has always been hot: Roberto has always been banging me there, almost every day, for a couple of hours. We have never skimped on games, and it intrigues me to climb to smorzacandela on him, and spread my thighs until I feel his cock in my throat while his hands touch my lush pear-shaped tits that I have, crazy in my long hair and ravens. When I’m on top of my man, I love to feel his hands squeeze my boobs as if they were two tasty sins to flesh out. I love it. If then his big hands also pass on my hips and furrow my ass, and I feel swearing and I feel like a whore in all ways, I undertake a series of orgasms so long and close together that you would not believe it! Roberto and I got married when I was twenty-three, but our bedroom began to get even hotter when I reached the age of thirty-seven. Because? It is easy to say: at that time my son began to invite his first friends over to the house. Not bad, don’t think, it just drove me crazy, in the afternoon, to fuck Roberto for fear that my son or one of his friends could suddenly open the door and find us there. The taste of danger, that’s all; it is known, however, that there is no pity that soon another one is not immediately added. When my son reached eighteen (I was forty-five) he was truly in his splendor: lean, thin, tall, he was pampered and pampered by all the girls in his class’ but he was as shy as ever. Not that he didn’t have sex drives: his underpants often contained easily identifiable specks, only he was shy; too shy. At that time, in the afternoon, he still hosted his friends at home: the games had been followed by badly done homework, but my habits had not changed at all. Not locking the door while we were making love was a luxury I had been waiting for, and for some time I had made Roberto participate in my fantasies, which had at first stunned him then increasingly excited. Often to increase the chances of being caught we would go so far as to keep…