It was almost another hour when Hanna noticed the familiar silhouette of her son leaving the adult bookstore through her own daze of jumbled thoughts and sexual satisfaction. She was amazed at how even after a night like this, she could still feel a hunger building inside her, a hunger for the next time, and the next and the next. Yet she felt so relaxed, like a big blob of jelly.
“Ha! I pretty much am,” she laughed at herself, thinking about how fat she had gotten.
Without even thinking about it, she had followed Pete home, paused a block away, letting him get into the house first so they wouldn’t bump into one another, and then getting home herself. The cold night air chilled her through her damp garments as she practically sprinted into the house.
Closing the door behind her, she listened intently for a few seconds before finally hearing the tell-tale sounds of Pete in his basement apartment below her. Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed upstairs, making only a small detour to snatch a cup and cheap bottle of sweet tasting wine from the pantry. She barely made it up the stairs, she was so exhausted from her brief activities in the gloryhole.
Hanna was thirsty and craved the soothing distance the wine would give her from the manic thoughts in her scrambled brain. She cut the foil over the screw-on cap with her teeth, got the cap off and filled her plastic cup to the brim before chugging half the contents with a burp and a hiccup. She managed to take off her sweatshirt and weakly tossed it towards the hooks on the back of her bedroom door and began to try to wrestle her way out of her now crusty bra. The wine was creating a warm sensation in her empty belly, well, empty except several ounces of semen (even a little of your son’s, woo-hoo!) (quiet, you!) as she collapsed in a heap on the floor, struggling to remove her shoes and leggings.
She lay back to remove her panties, and sitting up, held them before her, inspecting them with considerable fascination. They were still wet with her own juices, both from when she had gotten wet while wearing them, and later, from when she had tossed them aside and subsequently doused them with her juices again when she came (several times, yay!). She examined the panties, noticing where they had been splattered several times with semen, oh, and here she had accidentally torn them while struggling to get dressed after her episode of debauchery.
Something wet dripped onto her hand holding the underwear. What was that? There’s more! Hanna reached up to her face to find herself crying. The whole night, the whole situation must have finally caught up to her. She saw herself as from the outside, a fat middle-aged woman, sitting naked between her dresser and bed, damp and crumpled clothing scattered around her, a torn pair of panties in one hand and a plastic tumbler of cheap wine in the other. She looked like hell, her hair, face and body were sticky with drying semen and her skin was blotchy and flushed with excitement and wine.
“Ah, god, I’m a fucking wreck!” Hanna laughed and cried to herself. Yet… through the clarity that usually followed tears, she realized she was happier than she’d been in years.
She knew she was a wreck, but she didn’t want to have it any other way.
Hanna gathered her soiled garments and tossed them in the hamper, laundry would be done before her husband, Don, got home next week. She topped off her cup before fairly limping into the bathroom. All she wanted now was to grab a shower and crash in bed for days.
(to be continued…)
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/a19ry1/hanna_family_secrets_pt_5_ms_mf_incest