Chapter 4

Hayle's personal history and strong opinions lessened Amy's objections, but some were still present. Jim felt justified in his desires and feelings. He was about to remark, "You see, Mom? However, it seemed like the psychologist was about to return the session to its clinical roots as she blinked away her tears, shook her head as if to clear the air, cleared her throat, and turned to face his mother.

What is it about your son that appeals to you, Amy?"

As the blonde responded, a flush spread over her cheeks. "His looks. The man he is. His thoughtful and loyal relationship with his girlfriend. He purchased flowers and presents for her. That is so cool. How I long to be the lucky recipient.

Are you using the past tense when you say 'was' or 'bought'? This woman is no longer in his dating life.

To which the parent responded, "No."

"Why did you end things with your girlfriend?" Hayle asked Jim. " He responded with confidence, saying, "I want to be with Mom."

The striking resemblance between Jim and her late son moved both Amy and the psychologist.

As the mother cleared her throat, the therapist noticed a change in Amy's expression—as if she were ready to say something mischievous, and she seemed to relish the opportunity to say it.

"Also, I liked the way he made love to her."

"You observed your son engaging in sexual relations with his girlfriend?" the therapist inquired, taking Jim and Hayle by surprise with the final detail."

With a playful smile, the ex-spouse nodded.

"Did you see Daisy and me?" Jim asked. His timbre was slightly loud, a mixture of surprise and arousal. He continued the inquisition. "At the house? On what date?"

The psychologist's thoughts raced with anticipation as the intensity of the situation increased. Instead of licking her lips in anticipation, she decided to uncross and cross her legs so her smooth thighs could rub against each other, a temporary measure to calm the growing heat between them.

"Yes, it was at the house," Amy added. "It was the 4th of July weekend."

"That sounds like a crazy moment," Hayle teased.

At the double entendre, the blonde rejoined, "There were more fireworks inside the house than outside on the street." The two women laughed it off.

"Extremely shocking? As a joke, the redhead asked.

As the psychologist comforted Amy, Amy maintained her mischievous expression and nodded, saying, "Ah, uh."

Hayle questioned, her nipples throbbing, "Did you see 'it'?"" She looked dreamy, which she showed her kid and then the clinician. "Oh yeahhhh," she said with confidence and a hint of sexiness.

It was more of a personal than a therapeutic desire that Hayle had for Amy to describe her son's penis.

A divorcee's fantasy comes true! It's exactly seven inches long. Neither is it excessively thin nor massive. It is both long and wide. I thought it looked like a plumb bob on top.

Jim, on the other hand, was utterly bewildered, shocked, and aroused. While he deceived his partner with yet another incredible MILF, his beautiful, horny, and voyeuristic mother described his instrument. A trauma center-level surge of blood is currently being administered to that instrument.

"However, Hayle, it was actually his tongue," he said, his tone shifting from "Dr. Connor" to "Hayle" as the mother reminisced about her son's indiscretion with a girl. This both shocked and entertained the doctor.

"What do you mean?" Hayle asked with a slight hint of innocence.

"I started spying on them when he was just finishing eating out Daisy. From the vantage point from which I observed him, his tongue was diligently licking her pussycat. It was like he was enjoying an ice-cream cone. Forget 'enjoying.' He was obsessed with lapping at her and sticking it into her, just like a dick. She screamed things like, 'Oh yes, Jim! You eat my pussy so fucking good!' Between her moans and the way she was writhing around, I figured my son would be an oral expert. I didn't even get a chance to rub my cunt. Watching my son eat out his girlfriend gave me an orgasm—and I didn't even touch myself!"

With an alluring tone, Hayle looked directly at the single mom and asked, "Do you enjoy being devoured?"

Amy barks out, "Ohhh, yesss!" before adding, "You too?" in her own raspy voice.

With her eyes fixed on the mother, the psychologist whispered, "Yes!"

There was an overwhelming amount of moisture in the jeans.

Hayle was the object of the desiring parent's nonverbal expression of her wish to proceed.

"Go ahead, Amy."