That moment when you're reviewing quarterly reports and suddenly get hit with the memory of how my son's cock felt slamming into me from behind last night. The way he grabbed my hips, pulled me back onto him, and filled my pussy until I was dripping. I had to excuse myself to the restroom just to catch my breath. No spreadsheet can compete with that kind of bottom line. Being a boss means control, but being his mother means surrendering completely to the most intense pleasure. He's ruined me for any other kind of satisfaction.