“It's a simple machine.”“Pilot?” I asked, my thoughts reeling from my orgasms. “Yes. Is that really all you do?” she asked, shaking her he...d. “No control? No puppeteering? No attaching?”“Attaching?” I asked, frowning. I blinked at that. “What does that mean?”“Yes, attaching.” Carsina took a step back from me, her movement hampered by her leather pants bunched around her ankles. She pulled the dildo from her cunt, her juices staining the crystal. She looked around and said, “You, lamia, come. I spent long hours looking at myself in the mirror, wondering what my teenage son saw in his old mom - or was he just teasing her, humiliating me in some diabolical charade. I began to masturbate again, having stopped before I was out of my teens - having been horrified at the act after my father caught me, the punishment extreme. But now my sex was wet when I was with my son, when he was naked, and especially when I heard or 'accidentally' saw him masturbate in his room. And I thought of that. More

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