For as long as I remember, I had always been under the impression that I was her legitimate child. It was not just me that was fooled but everyone else was as well. Whenever we walked out on the streets, we would often be mistaken for sisters because of our striking resemblance despite the hefty twenty-eight year age gap. However, there was a memory in the back of my mind that niggled at me. Perhaps she had told me before and I had just forgotten about it or just didn’t want to believe it.

But why did it matter anyway? Whether or not we were related by blood no longer mattered at this point. Furthermore, perhaps not being related by blood was even better for my conscience, if I still had any by this given point of time, as I stared at my elegant ‘mother’ of twenty-two years getting ravaged by multiple cocks at once.

Cocks were not exactly a foreign entity to her, but rather a favorite pastime of her's, behind closed doors, where no one else could see this uninhibited side of her. That’s why that delicate mouth of hers which had uttered words of concern and encouragement to me had no issues with the cock sliding in and out of her mouth like a piston, threatening to perforate her throat. Her whimpers were nothing but music to my ears.

An unsightly amalgamation of drool, semen, and precum dribbled down the side of her pink lips onto her small yet shapely breasts. They had been decorated with cum from various men which made her skin shine underneath the pale lights. Despite being almost fifty years old, her delicate teats had yet to show any signs of sagging along with the rest of her body as well.

Her arms were crossed, held together by one of the men lying beneath her as she rocked her hips back and forth on his dick that was buried far inside of her soaking wet vagina decorated by her silky black pubes.

Her brown areolas, just the size of a ten-cent coin, right in the middle of her swaying breasts were decorated with fascinating hard brown tips that circled around due to the motion of the man behind her, eagerly ramming into her defenseless anus. How many guys had already taken their turns with her? I had lost count at this point of time.

The pool of semen flowing out of her crevices and the warped expression of ecstasy written across the entirety of her flushed dazed face were evidence of the men’s hard labor. Nothing was left of the woman that I knew for the past twenty-two years. What I was staring at was but a hollow husk that had been broken apart. A shadow of what remained of the prim and proper woman that I once knew.

So how did things become like this, or rather how did things spiral out of hand, way beyond my control? I could only blankly stare at the screen reflecting my mother being used as a sperm toilet by the men. This is my story, the tale of how I first got sexually attracted to my mother and just how desire and lust had changed our lives.