mom in love with son begins at 3:17 a.m. in a hotel suite. City glow through half-open blinds stripes her restless body. She can’t sleep, so mom in love with son becomes her lullaby. Slow, almost lazy circles over silk panties gradually soak the fabric dark. In mom in love with son, she pushes them aside instead of removing them—impatient, perfect. Two fingers, then three, stretching, curling, until the headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall. When she finally comes in mom in love with son, it’s with a muffled scream into the pillow, whole body shaking so hard the mattress springs sing. Dawn finds her asleep in tangled sheets, panties still twisted to the side—proof that mom in love with son worked better than any sleeping pill.