“Never pick up hitchhikers, certainly not at night. I thought it would be ok. My son was in the car with me and the man seemed normal. At first his compliments seemed nice. He called m

“Never pick up hitchhikers, certainly not at night. I thought it would be ok. My son was in the car with me and the man seemed normal. At first his compliments seemed nice. He called m “Never pick up hitchhikers, certainly not at night. I thought it would be ok. My son was in the car with me and the man seemed normal. At first his compliments seemed nice. He called me pretty and he called my son handsome. I got quiet when he told him ‘I bet you have a nice cuntfucker there’ but I told myself the man was just strange…not dangerous. It all went wrong at the secluded rest stop. It was all a blur, gun in my face and the man shouting at me ‘get in the back, take your clothes off…let me see you two fuck.’ I screamed the whole time ‘he’s my son! he’s my son! he’s my son!’ but the man didn’t care. He kept the gun pointed at me the whole time until my son came inside me…and then he left. The man got what he wanted. He saw his sick, depraved mother/son sex show…and then he left before he could get in trouble. We don’t even know his real name. We’re probably just another perverted jack-off memory for him…but for us? I can’t stop thinking of it. I can’t stop thinking of my son on top of me, or his cock inside me…or the fact that I never got to cum on his cock…more and more I keep wishing I had…”

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