It was a warm summer night and thirty-one-year-old Jason was in his bedroom with his door closed. He was angry. He was lonely. He was horny. He was sexually frustrated. After spending time with his mother talking, playing Scrabble, watching a movie, and then having supper, spending more time with his 54-year-old mother than any son his age should, he needed some alone time.
With him sitting across from her, he was horny from seeing down blouse flashes of his mother's long line of cleavage and her low cut bra that showed the tops of her meaty breasts every time she leaned forward to make a Scrabble word. She had nice, firm, natural tits, a C cup rack, and tits that didn't jiggle. With him sitting on the floor and with the Scrabble game perched on the hassock, and with his mother sitting on the couch, he had a great, unobscured view up her short skirt. Horny from seeing up skirt flashes of her bright white, cotton panties, he needed to masturbate over all that she was flashing him and over all that he saw of his mother. As if a non-stop looping video, the image of her cleavage, bra, and panties played through his mind endlessly. With her reminding him of that song by Sammy Kershaw, She Doesn't Know She's Beautiful, not looking her age, his mother was a MILF and she didn't even know it.
Wondering how she couldn't know that she was flashing him, he wondered if she was deliberately flashing him. Even though he knew that she wasn't deliberately flashing him, it sexually excited him to think that she was. Wondering how she couldn't know that he was looking, staring, and leering, he wondered if she knew he was looking. He wondered if she'd be masturbating in her room over all that she was showing him in the way that he'd soon be masturbating in his room over all that he was seeing of her. Only, he didn't believe that his mother masturbated over him in the way that he masturbated over her. Moreover, he couldn't even imagine his mother being horny enough to masturbate.
Donning his headphones, his headset quieted the hum of the air conditioner so that he could listen to his music without unduly disturbing his mother while masturbating himself. An understatement, while trying to make the best of a bad situation, masturbation was his personal, beloved escape from his dire reality. After all these years, still masturbating over the thoughts of her naked and of him having sex with her, he couldn't believe he was still sexually lusting over his mother. Admittedly, without him finding some sexual satisfaction in pleasuring himself, without his hand around his cock stroking himself, it was going to be a long, hot, lonely summer.
With him being not very hard to read, he was as sad as he was angry that he had to move back home after he lost his job, his wife, his house, and his life. Living back in his own, old room, totally depressed, he felt like such a loser. Normally during the summer he'd be inviting his friends over for barbeques and impromptu pool parties. Now, alone with his bad self and his troubled mind, he was miserable. Who wouldn't be unhappy living back home with their mother?
With his mother and father separated for the most part, now he was just as depressed as his mother obviously was. Never thinking about it before, he thought about it now and wondered if depression ran in his family. Now with time to think about such things, he wondered if his failed marriage was more his fault than he realized and admitted. Yet, still young and with the promise of a fresh start and a new day tomorrow, he was starting his life over now that his bitch of a wife was off of his back and finally out of his life. Good riddance to her.
"Bye bitch, bye!"
Yet, a big change living back home with his mother, he was glad that he had little to do with his father. Even when his father was there visiting, staying for a meal, or picking up something from the cellar or the garage, ignoring his mother as much as his father ignored him, his dad wasn't part of the family anymore, not that he ever was. Always detached and aloof even when he was living there with them, his father lost interest in life and changed when he developed Diabetes and lost the ability to have an erection and make love to his wife. Just as he hoped that depression wasn't hereditary, Jason hope Diabetes wasn't heredity because he didn't know what he'd do if he could no longer masturbate.
Not that his father having sex with his mother was a frequent thing, as he was always cheating on his mother before his erectile dysfunction. Yet, now, he was more of a miserable bastard that he could no longer be a man. With his Dad not able to get it up anymore, it wouldn't surprise him if his father was into some perverse fetishes that his sweet and innocent mother would never contemplate doing. He always knew his father was a pig and was always chasing after younger women, hookers, whores, and strippers. What he did with them now that he couldn't get and maintain an erection was anyone's guess. Maybe he just liked to watch.
Now barely just going through the motions of being a husband and a father, he's not the same man that he was before. Content to hang around with his drinking buddies more than he interacted with his family, his father did his own thing and his mother took care of everything else. Besides, with his father always viewing Jason as a loser, even though he wasn't, it didn't help the image that his father had of him with him moving back home. Better that his father was seldom home and bunking with a friend, it was better than Jason had little to do with his father and more to do with his mother.
Suffice to say that he never got along with his father as well as he did with his mother, an understatement. His mother was the light of his life, a real saint, and his best friend. In his eyes, she could do no wrong. He wished he could find a woman who looked just like his mother, busty, shapely, and wicked pretty. He wished he could find a woman who acted, just like his mom, kind, loving, and caring. He wished he could have sex with his mother.
As it's always been then and as it still is now, it was just him and his mother from day one. She was always there for him. Moreover, with her big tits, shapely body, pretty face, and with her looking ten years younger than her age, his mother was his personal definition of a MILF. Yet, sometimes embarrassed by his sexual attraction to his mother, his mother was his personal fodder for his daily masturbation sessions. His sounding board and his voice of reason, he could always talk to her about anything and, as it so happened and as he was about to discover, he could even talk to her about masturbation.
* * * * *
Part Two: With Jennifer Nettles of Sugarland singing in the background, Mother Mary catches her son, Jason, masturbating in time to watch him cum.
Not looking forward to spending a summer and possibly longer living back home, hoping his stay was only temporary, he needed to relax. He turned his stereo higher, readjusted his headphones, and closed his eyes. Making it known to all of his friends, he loved country music, especially when sung by a hot, female singer, such as Jennifer Nettles from Sugarland. If only by her singing and if only by all of the posters of her that he had still hanging in his room from nearly ten years ago, when he was living at home, he still had a crush on Jennifer Nettles, who wouldn't? She was gorgeously sexy and giftedly talented. When he wasn't jerking off over Jennifer Nettles, he was jerking off over his mother. Sometimes he even imagined his mother looking like an older version of Jennifer Nettles.
No doubt, if judging him by his erection, an observer could say that he was imagining Jennifer singing to him in his bedroom. With his fingers unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his zipper, if only in the way that he was staring up at her poster, obviously he imagined Jennifer's fingers unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his zipper. He slid his pants and underwear down to the top of his knees and fondled his cock while listening to her twanging voice sing her songs as if she was singing only to him.
"Sing it baby. I love you Jennifer. I'd love to kiss you," he said stroking his cock. I'd love to make out with you. I'd love to make love to you before fucking you," he said stroking his cock faster. "I wish you were here with me right now to suck my cock while I played with your tits," he said out loud and for no one to hear.
Damn, she's sexy. Damn she's so hot. God, he'd love to do her is what he told all of his friends about Jennifer Nettles, especially when he was drinking. Being that he told his friends at the bar the same things when full of beer as he did when sober, he'd loved to meet a woman who looked like Jennifer Nettles, the complete opposite of Angela, his short, bitchy ex-wife. Without doubt, his next woman will look more like Jennifer Nettles and be more like his blonde, green-eyed, busty mother than like his short, chubby, busty, bitch of an ex-wife.
"I wish I had a hot girlfriend to parade in front of my ex-wife and her damn boyfriend," he finally admitted to his friends after having one too many beers and before being driven home last night. "I wish I had a woman who looked like Jennifer Nettles to take to the beach. I've love to swim in the ocean with her while kissing her and feeling her everywhere."
Water under the bridge, once he made his decision to leave his wife and his old life to start a new one, it wasn't like him to talk about the past or about his ex-wife. Yet, any time he was drinking, he always talked about the past and about his ex-wife cheating on him with a guy she met from work.
"Bitch, dirty, nasty, whore of a bitch," he said stroking himself harder.
The last straw was when she took off to go to the beach with her boyfriend right in front of him and with him still there in the house. Not wanting to spend his summer in jail for hitting her and beating her boyfriend, she always had a way of emasculating him. It was humiliating to watch his wife driving away with another dude to go to the beach. Granted, he was glad to see her go but it hurt him for her to so disrespect him by carrying on with another man in front of him while they were still married and only separated while living in the same house.
Obviously by her actions going unchecked and with his love blinders now removed, he finally saw her for who she really was. She was such a bitch. She was such a slut. She was such a whore. Willing to flash her big tits at the bar to anyone who'd buy her a drink and not slapping away the hands of any man groping her, she was the sexy siren for any man but for him. Now, alone with his bad self while living back at home, sadly depressed, here he was in his old room masturbating again. What else is new?
It's just so strange how life sometimes goes in a circle. God must be in Heaven laughing at him. Yet, hard to break old habits, from the time he discovered that it felt good to rub and stroke his penis, he's been masturbating every day, multiple times a day, ever since. Back to where he was more than ten years ago, all that he has is his mother and masturbation. Is it any wonder why his mother was his sexual fodder for his masturbation? A time when he had nothing else, is it any wonder that he was lusting over having sex with his mother again?
"Sing to me Jennifer. Sing me a song," he said fondling his cock before slowly stroking his cock and singing out of tune with the music. "I wish you were here with me right now to give me a hand job," he said stroking his cock faster. "I wish you were here with me right now to suck my cock. I wish I could kiss you while making love to you. I wish I could fuck you," he said with his eyes still closed while sexually fantasizing about doing Jennifer Nettles of Sugar Land.
Obviously having a good time with himself and by himself, getting ready to cum, he stroked himself faster and harder. Knowing he was ready to cum and about to cross that bridge of no return where he couldn't stop himself from ejaculating no matter how hard he tried, it wasn't very long before he felt the familiar feeling of sexual excitement. Only, taking it slower, not wanting to cum yet, he stroked himself slower but to no avail. Almost past the point of no return, he was going to cum and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Turning his body to face his bedroom door, he reached for a couple of tissues on his nightstand in preparation of cumming. As soon as he turned, his bedroom door opened and his mother stood there in his doorway with his laundry while staring at his totally exposed and totally engorged prick.
"Mom," he uttered as if he was dreaming her staring at him and his exposed prick. "Oh, my God."
He could only imagine what his friends at the bar would say if ever he told them that his mother caught him masturbating, which he never would tell them. As if they were deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, they froze while staring at one another. Jason stared at his mother while she never removed her eyes from his exposed penis. He couldn't believe his mother saw him masturbating himself. If he didn't feel like a loser before, he certainly felt like a loser now.
Then, as if planned and as if he was a porn star doing the money shot or a CFNM stripper giving his mother a private X-rated, personal show, something unexpected happened. In the way of a cinder cone volcano erupting, unable to stop it from happening, Jason ejaculated a huge volume of cum that shot up in the air and landed with a splat on his chest and stomach. Even while it was happening, he couldn't believe it was happening. As if happening in slow motion, and seemingly fascinated by the sexy sight of him cumming, he watched his mother's eyes widen while watching his cum shooting high into the air before landing on him.
With the action slowed down enough to watch his mother's bodily reaction to his ejaculation, he watched her stroke back her lush, blonde hair before running a slow, involuntary tongue across her lips. If he had witnessed this particular body language of a young woman at the bar, he'd think that she wanted him but this wasn't some drunken slut; this was his mother. Perfectly timed, a long time sexual fantasy come true, if he had wanted to expose his cock to his mother while masturbating and cumming, he never could have arranged for this to happen.
"Shit, shit, shit," he said wiping cum with a tissue before sticking his prick back down in his underwear. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. Oh, my God, I'm so embarrassed."
* * * * *
Part Three: Two can play this game of exhibitionism and voyeurism.
If someone else was in the room with them that day, they may have said that Jason deliberately ejaculated because he was so aroused that his mother saw his exposed, erect cock. Perhaps with him knowing that his mother would be opening his bedroom door to deliver him his laundry, they may have said that Jason had planned the whole thing in the hopes of exposing himself to his mother. They may have said that Jason was glad that his mother opened his bedroom door at that very moment to watch him explode his load of cum high in the air and all over his chest and stomach. They may have said that Jason, perhaps enjoying flashing his mother his cock and, encouraged by her lustful stares and by her sexual body language for him to continue flashing her, was slow to put his prick away.
Perhaps encourage by her positive reaction to seeing her son's prick, he was hoping that she'd lend him a hand or her mouth. Perhaps inspired by her body language, he was hoping that she'd reciprocate and masturbate herself for him to watch. Perhaps with him realizing that he's always been sexually attracted to his mother, he was hoping that his exposed cock and his little masturbation show would be the start of a sexual, incestuous relationship. Perhaps, in the way of some of his sexual fantasies, he hoped that she'd stay, sit on his bed, and allow him to explore her shapely body while she explored his cock with her hand and with her mouth. Yet, nothing more than a sexual fantasy, now that it was over and now that he ejaculated, back to reality, he was more embarrassed than he was sexually excited.
His mother saw his cock. His mother saw his erection. His mother saw him masturbating himself. How embarrassing is that? Could he be anymore humiliated? His mother watched him cumming. How sexually exciting is that? Could he be anymore sexually aroused? Talk about being a loser, he was such a loser. Living at home and masturbating in his own room as if he's a teenager instead of a 31-year-old man, no wonder why his wife wanted nothing more to do with him. No wonder why his wife had a boyfriend, a real man instead of a boy of a man.
If someone else was in the room with them at that point in time, staring at it and never removing her eyes from her son's big prick, they may have said that his mother not only wanted to see her son's prick but also was enjoying seeing his big prick. They may have said that his mother, suspecting that her son was in his room masturbating while wearing his headphones, waited to open his bedroom door at that very moment when he was about to cum. Further with her unable to break her stare, seemingly liking what she saw, she was obviously mesmerized by his big prick. Whatever anyone said or anyone thought, it was obvious only to Mary if she opened her son's door purposely and at the very moment when she hoped that he was about to cum. Obviously, two peas of the same pod, no doubt, she wanted to see her son's prick as much as her son wanted to show his mother his prick. The extra bonus, something so unexpected or perfectly time, however one was to deem it, was him cumming.
* * * * *
Part Four: Was her seeing his cock and watching him cum an accident or a deliberate action on her part?
In all the years he lived at home and with all the times that he masturbated multiple times a day as a young adult, oddly enough, his mother never caught him playing with himself. Perhaps it took his father to leave her for her to be lonely and sexually frustrated enough for her sexual feelings to surface, boil over, and to manifest with her son enough for her to want to see his cock. His mother always gave him the respect, the privacy, and the courtesy of a knock before opening his bedroom door before. If she did knock at his door this time, he didn't hear her through the headphones, over the intrusive hum of the air conditioner, and over Jennifer Nettles singing to him while masturbating.
If only he knew that his mother was listening at his bedroom door while waiting for the precise moment to turn his doorknob and open his door, wouldn't he be surprised? If only he knew that his mother had grown as sexually attracted to him as he was sexually attracted to her, wouldn't he be surprised at that too? If only he knew that his mother knew that he was masturbating and was hoping to surprise him and catch him at that exact moment when he was cumming that would be so hot. If only he knew that she didn't knock but quietly and slowly opened his bedroom door in the hopes of watching her son masturbating, he'd wonder how her obvious sexual desire for him and his for her would change things between them.
If surmising that his mother wanted him as much as he wanted her, he wondered if that would change their close mother and son relationship for the better or for the worse. If she was hoping to catch him masturbating, he wondered how long was she standing there waiting while hoping to see something of him that she shouldn't see? With Jason never knowing what his mother was thinking, only Mary could answer those questions for only his mother knew if she was being naughty in hopes of seeing her son's cock or being nice in innocently carrying up his laundry. If only Jason knew that his mother enjoyed watching his impromptu masturbation show as much as he enjoyed his mother seeing his cock and watching him cum, wouldn't he be surprised?"Oh, Jason, I'm so sorry," she said never removing her eyes from his stiff prick. Jason removed the headphones and, while shockingly embarrassed watching his mother staring at his exposed prick, he slowly stuffed his cock back down in his underwear. "I knocked but I guess you didn't hear me with your headphones," she said looking from his cock to look at him before returning her focus to the big bulge now hidden in his underwear.
Obviously now out of the sexual mood that he ejaculated, red faced embarrassed, albeit still seemingly sexually excited being that his mother caught him pleasuring himself, this self-pleasuring exposure was still an awkward moment for the both of them. No doubt feeling like a degenerate masturbating in his old room and having his mother catching him jerking off, he quickly pulled up his pants while his mother left his room and closed his bedroom door behind her. Yet, something he'll probably masturbate over for months if not for years, the fact remained that his mother saw his cock. His mother not only watched him playing with himself but also she watched him cum. His mother stared at his cock in the way that he's always staring at her long line of exposed cleavage and the huge impressions her breasts made in her blouses.
"Wow!"
Not the reaction that he imagined, with her not looking away embarrassed or ashamed, his mother stared at his erection. He couldn't believe his mother stared at his erection. Not only that, his mother stared at him ejaculating. He couldn't believe his mother stared at him cumming. As if she was sexually turned on and interested in seeing more of his prick, he couldn't believe that his mother saw him ejaculate.
Obviously still sexually excited now that he had something more and something new to masturbate over, after she left his room, he retrieved his headphones and pressed play to listen and masturbate to Jennifer Nettles. With his sexual thoughts going from his mother, to Jennifer Nettles, and back again to his mother, he pulled down his pants again and stroked himself faster than he was stroking himself before. Only this time, obviously and without a doubt, he stroked himself to the image of his mother standing there staring at his prick while watching him cum.
Returning to her room after watching her son masturbating himself to ejaculation, Mary closed her bedroom door. Sexually aroused by the sight of her son masturbating himself, she's never been as sexually excited as she was when watching him cum. A real explosion, there was so much cum. It took all the control she had not to lick his cum from his chest and stomach. It took all the control she had not to wrap her fingers around his big cock before taking his stiff prick in her mouth.
Knowing what she so desperately needed to do, she removed her bathrobe and climbed on her bed. Then, as if she was giving herself a gynecological exam, she raised her knees up and spread her legs. She raised up her nightgown high enough for her to cup her already moist pussy through her panty while imagining Jason feeling her cunt. In an instant she removed her panties and tossed them beside her on the floor. Exploring herself in the way she wished her son would explore her, she reach her sweet spot with her finger.
While thinking of her son masturbating her while she masturbated her son, she rubbed her clit while imagining Jason rubbing her clit and while she imagined herself stroking his prick. She fingered her pussy while replaying through her mind the sight of her son stroking his big, stiff prick. She fingered her nipples through her nightgown while imagining Jason fingering her nipples. She masturbated herself while thinking of the quick hand action of her son masturbating himself along with the erotic sight of watching him cum.
She couldn't believe she caught him masturbating. She couldn't believe she caught him just as he ejaculated. She only wished she could have masturbated him. If only she knew he was horny enough to masturbate and if only he asked her to masturbate him, she would have. She would have loved to feel his hard cock in her hand while stroking him. She only wished he could have creamed her hand or ejaculated in her mouth. As long as he pleasured her first, she'd love to pleasure him.
She wondered if deliberately flashing him her bra, cleavage, and panties while they played Scrabble made him horny enough to masturbate himself. She wondered what he'd say if only he knew that she was deliberately flashing him. In the way that she deliberately flashed him, she'd love for him to deliberately flash her. She'd love to see more of his cock.
With her knowing that he was looking at all that she was showing, she couldn't wait to masturbate herself with the thoughts of her son sexually lusting over her if only while he masturbated himself. She wondered if he masturbated over her instead of that damn Jennifer Nettles. She wondered if he masturbated over the imagined thoughts of her naked in the way she masturbates herself over her imagined thoughts of him naked. She wondered if he masturbated himself while imagining having sex with her in the way that she masturbates herself with the thoughts of having sex with him.
* * * * *
She was so hot literally and figuratively. With the last two days of temperatures in the 90's and with tomorrow more of the same, the weatherman forecasted an official heatwave, the third one of the summer. She was experiencing hot flashes but not from estrogen depletion but from her sexually frustrated horniness for the sexual attention of her son. After seeing his cock, she'd love to flash him her pussy. Not quite understanding any of her sexual reactions to her son, perhaps she was lonely, horny, sexually frustrated, and/or simply just sexually attracted to her son. With all of these sexual feelings new to her, just going with the flow, she didn't understand any of them.
"God, I'm so frigging horny," she said aloud.
She wondered why her sudden sexual attraction to Jason, perhaps she was sexually attracted to her son because he looked like a younger version of his father and indeed he did. The same height and the same build, he had the same chestnut brown hair and the same bright, blue eyes that illuminated her when he smiled. When seeing them from the back, but for her husband's grey hair, one would be hard pressed to tell one from the other. So sexually attracted to his father back then when they were first married, Jason now looked how his father looked when they first met more than 32 years ago.
Yet for whatever was their reasons, Mary masturbated herself to the sexual thoughts of having sex with her son while Jason masturbated himself to the sexual thoughts of him having sex with his mother. Strictly forbidden, she wondered how happy they'd be if instead of masturbating themselves in separate rooms, if they could masturbate together. Taking it even further across the incestuous line, she imagined him masturbating her while she masturbated him. Only, if he had his finger in her pussy and she had her fingers around his cock, assuredly one thing would lead to another.
Obviously going through something to have the need to catch her son masturbating himself without having him realize that she had been standing there waiting while hoping to watch him pleasuring himself, she was sexually aroused. She was hoping to catch him masturbating but, a bonus, she never figured that she'd catch him cumming. Interesting enough, never considering him as a sexual man before, now that he was living back home with her and with them alone together a lot, she was sexually thinking more about her son now. Sometimes not thinking about him as her son, she more thought about him as a man and as her lover. Now after witnessing his masturbation show, she thought more about him not as a blood related male but as a man with a very big and a very hard penis.
Now needing to masturbate herself after peeping on her son and in the way she imagined her son masturbating himself over her, she reached up to feel her breasts and to finger her nipples through her nightgown again. She imagined it was Jason's hand instead of her hand touching, feeling, and fondling her breasts. She imagined it was Jason's fingers instead of her fingers pulling, turning, and twisting her nipples. In the way she watched her son masturbating in front of her, she imagined herself masturbating herself in front of him.
Already having crossed the incestuous line in her mind, she wondered if he'd like to watch her playing with her pussy in the way that she'd love to watching him playing with his cock. She'd be intensely, sexually excited to show him how her fingers masterfully pleasure her pussy. Moreover, she'd love to flash him her pussy in the way he just flashed her his cock. She wondered if he'd stare at her blonde, bushy pussy in the way that she stared at his big, hard cock. In the way that he masturbated himself, she imagined him masturbating her. In the way that he masturbated himself, she imagined masturbating him. Whether thinking of him masturbating her or her masturbating him, she was lost in wanting and needing to masturbate herself.
Always suspecting that he did, a real sexual game changer, she took the hint that perhaps her son wanted her as much as she suddenly wanted him. She's always imagined walking in his room to watch him masturbate himself. She always imagined sitting on his bed beside him as he stroked his cock. She's always imagined staring down at his engorged prick while watching him masturbate himself faster. Only, never did she imagine watching him ejaculate. Then, looking deep in his blue eyes in the way that she used to look in his father's blue eyes when he was young, robust, vital, and sexually crazy for her, she imagined herself asking him if she could help masturbate him.
"May I?"
Imagining her fingers poised to take hold of his hard cock as soon as he gave her his permission, as soon as she asked her question aloud, she rubbed her clit and fingered her nipples. She imagined her son removing his hand from his prick and offering his cock to her. With just a smile and a nod, and with both of them on the same sexual page, she imagined Jason giving her permission to stroke him. In an instant, while rubbing her clit harder and fingering herself deeper, Mary imagined wrapping her motherly fingers around her son's stiff, thick prick. While staring in his blue eyes with her green eyes, she imagined fondling the head of his cock before slowly and seductively stroking him.
Something she never thought she'd do in a million years, having sex with another man other than her husband, so wickedly depraved to have the sexual thoughts she was thinking, she now imagined masturbating her son. How could she? Why did she? Maybe she justified to herself that it was okay to have sex with Jason because he was her son and not just some stranger that she picked up at the mall.
With her not having had sex in such a very long time, her sexual frustration manifested itself in lustfully, albeit incestuously and sexually desiring her son. Imagining holding his cock tightly in her hand while stroking him harder and faster, she couldn't believe she was sexually fantasizing about masturbating her son while she masturbated herself. It was just mutual masturbation after all, no big deal. It wasn't as if she was sucking and fucking her son. She was just imagining touching his cock while stroking his cock and while he rubbed her clit and fingered her nipples. What's so wrong with that? Nonetheless how she perceived masturbation as not being incestuously sexual, she couldn't believe she was thinking of another man's cock, even if that other man was her son, especially with that other man being her son.
How dare she have such incestuous thoughts for her son? How could she think of her son in that forbidden sexual way? Having been a long time since she's had a cock in her hand, in her mouth, and in her pussy, missing having the sexual pleasure of a hard cock, she now imagined her son's cock in her hand, in her mouth, and in her pussy. While thinking of her son holding her, kissing her, and touching and feeling her everywhere, she rubbed her clit harder with her finger. While thinking of her son seeing her naked, she fingered her nipples with her other hand. In the way she watched him cumming, she'd love for him to watch her give herself an orgasm.
"Fuck me Jason. I need to feel your cock in my hand and in my mouth before feeling it fill my pussy," she said to herself for no one to hear and not believing she said what she said.
Getting ready to cum, she pulled her nightgown higher and spread her legs wider to better finger herself. Oh, my God, in the way that she surprised him by walking in his room while he was masturbating, she'd love for him to surprise her by walking in her room right now and unannounced while she was masturbating. If only he'd opened her bedroom door now, right now, he'd have a great view of her blonde, bushy pussy. He'd not only see his mother's cunt but with her tits hanging out of the top of her nightgown, he'd see her tits, her areola's, and her nipples too. Practically naked, he'd see his mother naked.
After watching Jason cum, she was already wet, so very wet, wetter than she's been in such a long time, and wet enough for her finger to slide inside of her in the way that she imagined his big, hard cock sliding deep inside of her. She removed her dildo from her drawer and, not wanting to make a sound, she opted for her finger to massage her clit instead of her vibrator. In the way that she knew he was behind his closed bedroom door masturbating himself, even though she'd love for him to catch her masturbating, she didn't want him to know that she was behind her closed, bedroom door masturbating herself. Yet, if only he'd open her door to catch her masturbating, after she feigned her embarrassment, she'd be so happy that he saw his mother's cunt along with her big tits.
* * * * *
Part Six: Just be careful of my nipples. I'd rather you not suck them.
Continuing with her sexual fantasy, she imagined staring at her son's penis before touching her son's prick. While looking up at him, she imagined touching the head of his cock with her fingertips before fondling the head of his cock and before wrapping her fingers around him to take him in her hand. While watching the look of sexual pleasure on his face, she imagined stroking her son's cock harder and faster. Oh, my God, she imagined her hand feeling so good on his stiff prick. Oh, my God, she couldn't believe she was imagining masturbating her son while wishing that he'd masturbate her too.
Tightening her grip, she stroked him harder and faster while she imagined him reaching out his hands to feel her C cup breasts through her nightgown. Cupping her breast in the palm of his hand through the thin, sheer material of her nightie, she imagined him fondling and gently squeezing her tits. Then, as soon as her nipples made their impression through her nightie, she reached her hand inside the top of her nightgown while imagining him fingering them and pulling her nipples out with his thumb and index finger.
"Would you like to see them?" She imagined asking her son a question that she obviously already knew the answer.
While rubbing herself and fingering her nipples, she loved playing this pretend sexual game with her son as her only contestant.
"I'd love to see your tits Mom," she imagined him saying.
As if she was the only stripper on stage, she imagined him watching her undress to expose her topless self to him. She let go of his prick to slide her nightgown straps from her shoulders. She imagined him looking at her with as much sexual anticipation as he had sexual excitement on his face. Allowing her nightgown to fall to her waist, she imagined herself staring at him staring at her tits before looking down at herself to see all that he could see of her and all that she was showing him. With her sitting before her son topless, she imagined that Jason could see the entire shape of her naked breasts, her long line of cleavage, her areolas, and her nipples.
She imagined watching him feel her breasts while she imagined fondling the head of his erect prick. In the way she watched him masturbating himself, she was intent on masturbating him. Willing to masturbate him any time, any place, and anywhere he wanted her to masturbate him, she so wanted to tell him that he'd no longer have to masturbate but that she'd gladly do that for him. She so wanted to feel his cock in her hand before feeling it in her mouth and pussy.
"Go ahead. You can touch them," she imagined saying to her son. "You can feel them. You can fondle my breasts. I don't mind. Just be careful of my nipples," she said. "I'd rather you not suck them," she said while imagining pushing his mouth away from her nipples.
As soon as she said for him not to suck her nipples, calling attention to her erect nipples, he stared at her nipples.
"Your nipples? Why must I be careful of your nipples? Why can I not suck your nipples?"
With her breasts on display of her horny son's eyes, he looked at her with as much curiosity as he looked at her with sexual arousal.
"Please don't," she imagined saying while feigning her resistance to her son fingering her nipples and sucking her tits.
It was one thing for him to see her breasts, touch her breasts, and fondle her breasts while fingering her nipples, but it was quite another thing for him to suck her tits. Something that no adult son should ever do to his mother, and something that she'd love for him to do, she'd feel as if she was having incestuous sex with her son if he dared to suck her nipples. Nonetheless her feelings of forbidden taboo, she imagined him touching her breasts and feeling her breasts before sliding a slow hand across her nipples. As if teasing her with his sexual touch, as soon as the palm of his hand slowly slid across her nipples, they popped out and grew hard.
She wanted him to suck her nipples but she couldn't allow him to suck her nipples. If he sucked her nipples, she'd lose all sexual control. If he sucked her nipples, she'd suck his cock. If he sucked her nipples, she'd make love to him before fucking him. No longer being his mother, she'd be his slut. As if she was his sexual slave instead of his mother, she'd willingly do any and every sexual thing to her son that she's only done with her husband.
"Why must I be careful of your nipples?" He asked her again.
Instead of being careful with her nipples, she imagined him doing just the opposite. She imagined him taking her nipple between his thumb and index finger to pull it, squeeze it, turn it, and twist it. With him watching her heated reaction to him fingering her nipples, doing one, he did the same to the other while watching her sexually squirming and staring down at what he was doing to her nipples. Obviously by the open mouth sexually excited look on her face, she was enjoying what she was imagining him doing to her nipples. She closed her eyes and let out a gasp while the heat of her orgasm slowly grew warmer. Then, without warning and as if she wanted to show him her breasts as much as he wanted to see her tits, she imagined wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to her to kiss him, French kiss him.
After they kissed and kissed, and even though she asked him not to, she imagined him lowering his head to suck her nipples. She imagined him sucking her tits. Her son was sucking her tits. With her finger rubbing her clit faster and harder, it so sexually excited her to imagine her son sucking her nipples that she was getting ready to cum. Oh, my God, she couldn't believe that Jason was sucking her tits. Oh, my God, she couldn't believe that she was about to cum over the thought of Jason sucking her tits while she stroked his cock.
Something he hasn't done in nearly 30 years, in the way that she imagined masturbating her son, she couldn't believe she imagined him sucking her tits. While fingering her nipples, she imagined Jason sucking her nipples. Oh, my God, she was so wet by the thoughts of her nipples in her son's mouth. She lifted her big boobs to her mouth to suck her nipples while pretending that it was Jason sucking her tits. First she sucked one nipple and then she sucked her other nipple.
"Because if you continue doing that to my nipples, you'll sexually excite me," she imagined saying to him breathlessly while consumed with incestuous, sexual excitement. "If you continue fingering my nipples, I swear that I'll suck your cock," she imagined saying while staring at him to watch his reaction to what she just said.
She imagined him looking down at his cock before looking up at her.
"I don't mind if you suck me, Mom," she imagined Jason admitting.
She imagined looking down at his cock with him while wishing his stiff prick was in her mouth.
"No, I can't do that. I'm your mother and you're my son. It's enough that I'm masturbating you," she said while imagining stroking his big prick faster.
She continued imagining him fondling her big breasts while she continued having a conversation with herself. Then imagining taking her son's cock in her hand before taking it in her mouth and sucking him while stroking him as he continued pulling, turning, and twisting her nipples, she couldn't believe she was fantasizing about blowing her son. Imagining him cumming in her mouth, she imagined tasting him and swallowing every little bit of his cum.
* * * * *
If only Jason knew his mother was in her room masturbating herself while imagining having sex with him and sucking him, what would he think? If only Jason knew that if he dared enter his mother's room without knocking at that very moment and in the horny state that she was in, she was ready to have sex with him. If only Jason knew that while his mother masturbated herself, she imagined sucking him. With the imagined feel and taste of her son's hard, hairy cock buried in her mouth, she continued masturbating herself.If he was to open her bedroom door right now without knocking, she wondered if he'd think of her as an incestuous slut or as a wicked whore for masturbating herself. So sexually turned on after watching him masturbating and cumming, she wondered what he'd say if she told him that she thinks about him while masturbating. She wondered what he'd say if she told him that she wanted him sexually. She wondered what he'd say if she told him that she wanted to stroke him before he pleasured her and suck him after he made love to her. She wondered what he'd do if he saw her topless or naked. She wondered if he'd offer her his finger, his tongue, and his cock in the way she hoped he would and in the way that she needed him to do.
"Oh, my God, I'm going to cum," she said while listening to Sugarland's music coming from her son's room.
Wishing she could scream at the top of her lungs to let him know that she had masturbated herself too, while imagining having sex with him, she quietly had her orgasm without uttering a sound while her son ejaculated again, this time in a tissue, while obviously imagining having sex with his mother.
* * * * *
After his mother saw his cock and watched him cum, already sexually aroused, for him to cum again so soon, Jason didn't have to stroke himself very long before ready to cum again.
"Wow that was fast. Where Jennifer Nettles couldn't get me off, just thinking about my mother seeing my cock and watching me cum sexually excited me enough to want to masturbate myself again. Just thinking about having sex with my mother made me cum again," he said.The next morning, Jason awakened with the memory of his mother ogling his exposed cock. With the memory of him cumming in front of her while she watched him ejaculate to shoot cum all over his chest and stomach, he was sexually aroused. Already horny but instead of masturbating himself, which was his normal, early morning routine, brazenly Jason went downstairs for a cup of coffee and some breakfast while wearing his pajama bottoms without underwear. With his cock already stiffening by the thought of his mother staring at his pajama clad bulge, he felt so free. He felt so wicked. He felt so horny.
Daring himself to do so, unless he was hoping for sex, he didn't know why he went downstairs so revealingly dressed like that but he did. Something he never does, always afraid his mother would see his erection bobbing, swinging, and swaying or that his cock may pop out of his pee hole, he always wore underwear beneath his pajamas. Instead of being embarrassed by the thought of his cock popping out of his pajama bottom, he was sexually aroused while hoping that it would make a surprised appearance. Today, waking up horny after flashing his mother his cock and already sexually aroused with the thought of flashing his mother his cock again, he didn't care if his mother noticed his erection. He wanted his mother to notice his erection. If nothing else by her sexy stares ogling his cock last night while standing in his bedroom watching him masturbating and cumming, she'd give him more fodder for his masturbation of himself later.
Curious if she'd look at what he was deliberately showing, he was curious if she'd say anything about last night. With her already seeing his cock, with her already seeing him masturbate, and with her already watching him cum, he didn't care if his cock made a surprise appearance from out his pee hole to say hi and give his mother the one eyed stare. If his cock did fall out of his pajama bottoms, would she look? Would she stare? Would she be as sexually aroused then as he is now? With her walking in his room when he had his eyes closed and while he was wearing his headphones, he wondered how long she was standing there before he noticed her. It all happened so fast when he opened this eyes to reach for a tissue and she was already standing there in his room.
The sexual excitement of his mother seeing his cock, watching him masturbate, and staring as he ejaculated clouded his memory. Unable to remember, he couldn't remember if she was already in his room or if she had opened his door just as he turned to face her. Hoping to give her a longer look at his cock this morning, he needed to know if she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He needed to know if she wanted to have sex with him as much as he wanted to have sex with her.
Already gone way beyond crossing the incestuous line, if nothing else, he wanted his mother to see his prick again. Maybe if she saw his cock again, this time she'd want to touch his cock. Maybe if she saw his cock again, she'd reach out her motherly hand to wrap her fingers around his stiff prick to stroke him. Even if she didn't touch and stroke his penis, never expecting that she would, he'd imagine that she did when masturbating himself later. In the way that he wanted to feel her tits and finger her nipples, never really expecting that he would, he hoped that she was horny enough to want to suck his big prick. Even if he didn't feel her big tits and finger her erect nipples, he'd imagined that she sucked his cock later when alone in his room masturbating.
As soon as he entered the kitchen, he saw his mother sitting at the kitchen table in her red, low cut, sheer nightgown. Perhaps evidence of what was to happen, his mother was drinking her coffee without the modesty of wearing her bathrobe. With his moving, swaying cock at her eye level, he walked across the kitchen in front of her. With his partial, pajama clad, erection clearly visible, as soon as Mary saw her son, her eyes went from his face to the moving and dancing bulge in his pajama bottoms.
With him nervous about not wearing underwear, as soon as he saw what she was wearing or more correctly what she wasn't wearing, her bathrobe, he was glad that he wasn't wearing underwear. Flashing him her big breasts this morning nearly as much as he flashed her his stiff cock last night, subtly exchanging voyeuristic views of tits for cock, Mary sat at the kitchen table with most of her cleavage on display. As if they already had sex last night, in essence they did, albeit not together, they masturbated themselves in separate rooms while thinking of having sex with one another. Unashamed and unembarrassed, with one just as bad as the other, immodestly immoral, Mary sat in the kitchen without the modesty of a bathrobe while Jason paraded himself in front of her with his cock bouncing and swaying.
As if he was the bull and she was a sexy, female bullfighter, a matador enraging his cock by waving a red sexy nightgown in his face, she was showing her son more of her 36C cup breasts than he's ever seen before. Normally modestly moral, careful what her son may see of her, she always wears a robe over her nightgown but not today. Today, in the way that he came downstairs in pajama bottoms without underwear, she sat at the kitchen table in her sheer, sexy nightgown without a robe. Undoubtedly she suspected that he was a breast man in the way he always stared at her big tits. Obviously, in the way that she was displaying her breasts now, she wanted to expose her breasts to him. Incestuously, in the way that her son exposed his cock to her, she wanted him to see as much of her as she saw of him. Tits for cock and balls, no doubt, after the sexy show of him masturbating and cumming that he gave her last night, exposing her big breasts to him this morning apparently only seemed fair to her.
As if needing a closer and more focused look, Jason rubbed his eyes while staring at all that his mother was showing and all that he was seeing of his mother. If he looked close enough at her abundant, exposed cleavage and at the impressions her breasts made in her nightgown, and he did, he could clearly make out the bulbously round shape of her breasts. If he stared long and hard enough, and he did, he could see her areolas and nipples through the sheer, thin material of her nightgown. Only, as soon as he saw the outline of her breast and the darker coloration of her areolas and nipples, his cock hardened enough to tent his pajama bottom. In the way that she was giving him a real show of her tits, he was giving her a real show of his cock. While pretending that he didn't know that his cock was exposed, he only hoped that his cock would popped from out of his pajama bottoms.
With him standing there with his hot coffee in hand and his hot erection in his pajama bottoms, his mother stared at the impression his cock made in his pajama bottoms as much as he stared at the huge impressions her breasts made in her sheer nightgown. With him staring all that she was showing of her breasts, she was staring at all that he was showing of his cock. With him sexually excited to share glimpses of what he shouldn't see of his mother and what she shouldn't see of her son, he was already sexually aroused with incestuous, sexual desire for her. With him sexually excited that his mother was looking to see what she could see of him and with him looking to see what he could see of her, ready to cross that forbidden bridge, they were nearing the point of no return.
Initially, with the memory of his mother seeing him cumming fresh in his mind, as much as he was sexually excited, he was still somewhat embarrassed from last night. What if he misread her and she was more embarrassed than she was sexually excited. What if she didn't sexually want him in the way that he sexually wanted her? What if it was just an innocent accident that she opened his bedroom door at the most inopportune time of him masturbating and cumming? Then again, what if she was standing outside of his bedroom door listening while waiting for the perfect moment to open his bedroom door to catch him cumming? Perhaps he wasn't as quiet masturbating himself as he thought he was and perhaps she wasn't as innocent as he thought.
Yet, as much as he was embarrassed, he was sexually aroused. Again while thinking nasty, incestuous thoughts, he still wanted to put his coffee cup down, reach his hand inside his pajama bottom, pull out his cock, and masturbate himself in front of his mother. He wondered if she'd watch him masturbating this morning in the way that she watched him masturbating last night. While stroking his cock, he wanted to reach down inside of her oh so, low cut nightgown top to feel her breasts and finger her nipples, before removing her breasts from her nightgown. Wishing he could cum on her tits and/or all over her face, he wondered what she'd say if he exposed his cock to her while stroking his cock. He wondered what she'd do if he ejaculated his cum all over her. Yet, feeling uncomfortably awkward as much as he felt sexually excited, he was ready to bolt from the kitchen after grabbing his coffee to return to the privacy of his room.
Nonetheless, a titillating and erotic view, an understatement, he was enjoying seeing so much of the top of his mother's meaty breasts and her long, line of cleavage. Apparently, now that she was sitting there so innocently immoral without the modesty of her bathrobe, he didn't mind having his breakfast in the kitchen while ogling all that he could see of her big boobs. Moreover, with her looking and enjoying the show of his pajama clad cock too, obviously she didn't mind showing her son all that he so wanted to see of her. If only he knew that his mother sexually wanted him as much as he sexually wanted her, he'd make his move. If only he knew that his mother had other plans for him other than just serving him breakfast, wouldn't he be surprised.
* * * * *
Part Eight: "Sit. I want to talk to you about last night."
"Sit. I want to talk to you about last night. I'll make you breakfast," she said standing. "What would you like?"
What would you like? A loaded question of four simple, one syllable words, it was a question that only his mother would ask him. What would you like? Only thinking about what she wanted and what she'd like, those four, simple, one syllable words never came out of his ex-wife's mouth. It was always what she wanted and never what he would like. Leave to his mother to push his buttons of love, caring, appreciation, and understanding by asking him one simple question.
As soon as she asked him that seemingly innocent but sexually loaded question, what would you like, hopefully was the same thing that he so wanted and that she so wanted too. What would he like? He'd like to have sex with his mother but would she want to have sex with him? He'd like to strip her naked but would she be comfortable being naked in front of him as he was with his cock exposed in front of her last night? Yet, being that she's sitting before him practically topless, maybe she wouldn't mind being naked in front of him. Maybe if he made the first move, she'd follow. Yet afraid to ruin the good mother and son relationship they had, he didn't want her to feel that she wasn't safe being alone with him in her own house. Not wanting to pressure her for sex, he didn't want her thinking of him as a pervert and throwing him out of her house.
What would he like? He pondered her question in the way that she no doubt didn't mean for him to take it. He'd like for his mother to do lots of sexual things to his naked body. He imagined him making himself comfortable between her shapely thighs to finger her, lick her, and eat her pussy. His mother's cunt. He quivered at the thought of not only seeing his mother's cunt but also fingering, sniffing, and licking his mother's cunt.
I'd like to eat your pussy and then fuck your pussy before you suck my cock, he imagined honestly replying to her question. He wondered what she'd say if he said that. Only, not wanting to disrespect his mother, he didn't reply in that sexually salacious way. If only he had said that to her, perhaps she would have told him that she'd love for him to finger and lick her pussy long enough to give her an orgasm. If only he had said those incestuous words to her, perhaps she would have told him that she'd love to fuck him and suck his cock. Instead, no doubt, with him as sexually wicked as his dad, she'd ask him to leave her house.
"An egg, two sausages, and two pieces of toast with cherry jelly," he said while remembering that he couldn't remember when the last time his wife made him breakfast.
As if he was watching an X-rated movie, he was stunned with all that he saw when his eyes followed her across the kitchen. With her always wearing her robe, he never saw so much of his mother as he was seeing now. With the only light in the kitchen coming from the rising sun through the window over the sink, even in the dim, morning light, as if she was poised in front of a campfire, her nightgown was totally transparent. Then, when she opened the refrigerator door, seeing her in a whole new light, he could see right through her nightgown as if she wasn't wearing anything at all. As if she was lit up by a dozen Paparazzi camera flashes and as if she was totally naked, he had a clear view of his mother's naked body through her nearly transparent nightgown.
Obviously, in the way he was looking at her, staring at her, ogling her, and leering at her, no doubt, he wondered if his mother knew that she was flashing him her ass, her pussy, and her tits. As if she was wearing nothing at all, she appeared as if she was standing before him naked. Clearly he could see her sexy ass crack, her blonde, bushy pussy, and her big breasts with erect nipples that leaned forward with her as she reached inside the refrigerator to get the eggs, the butter, and the sausages. For an old broad, his mother had a hot body.
She must know how horny he was by the obvious erection he had when he came downstairs and saw her sitting at the kitchen table in her nightgown. She must know how sexually attracted he is to her in the way he's always staring at her tits. When she leaned in the fridge, moving things around, seemingly taking her sweet time, was she deliberately flashing him her tits, pussy, and ass? If only he knew that she knew he could see her as if she was standing there naked, he'd make a move on her. If only he knew that she was sexually teasing him by flashing him her nearly naked body, he take her in his arms and kiss her while touching and feeling her everywhere a son should never feel his mother. With her leaning in the fridge, he wished he was standing behind her with his erection planted between his mother's ass cheeks while reaching up to feel and fondle her big breasts while fingering her nipples. Definitely enjoying the view of her nearly naked body while thinking about doing his mother from behind doggie style, it was at a time like this that he wished he was her lover instead of her son.
Perhaps being that he flashed her his cock last night, if he thought that she was reciprocating by flashing him her nearly naked body this morning, he'd be right. After seeing his cock last night, enough to make her masturbate herself in the way that he was masturbated himself again last night, she was just as sexually aroused as he was. Only this was his mother and not some bar tramp. He didn't think of her sexually wanting him in the way that he sexually wanted her. Yet, if she wasn't his mother, he'd think that most definitely Mary was flashing him her nearly naked body by purposely taking her sweet time while leaning in the fridge.
In the way he thinks about having sex with her, if only he knew his mother thinks about having sex with him. In the way that he masturbates over her while thinking of seeing her naked and having sex with her, wouldn't he be surprised to know that she masturbates over him while thinking of seeing him naked and having sex with him. In the way that he was sexually excited with his mother not only saw his cock but also watched him ejaculating in front of her, wouldn't he love to know that she was as sexually excited seeing his cock and watching him ejaculate. As if she was an audience member in a private CFNM show, wouldn't he be surprised to know that she was sexually excited to see his little masturbation show too. Further, wouldn't he be surprised to know that she'd love for him to watch her masturbate too.
* * * * *
Part Nine: All about masturbation, talking about masturbation
As if she was a short order cook, his breakfast was ready quicker than he could make it for himself. What would have easily taken him twenty minutes to make, she had ready in five minutes. Seemingly eager to have this conversation about masturbation with her son, eager to listen, and to confess her incestuously sexual thoughts, she set the plate down in front of him before filling their cups with more coffee.
"I'm sorry about last night. I knocked but with you wearing your headphones. I guess you didn't hear me," she said looking into his eyes to watch his reaction to her apology.
Then, with her staring down at his breakfast sausages, she couldn't help herself from thinking of his cock. Only, his cock was much bigger than his breakfast sausages. If she had to compare his cock to a slab of meat, his prick was more that size of a big, Italian sausage. As evidence by the erection he was walking around with this morning, he had a real live kielbasa in his pajamas.
"That was embarrassing," he said.
Only he didn't look embarrassed. If he looked anything at all, he looked sexually excited. By his own confession when alone in his room and masturbating himself, he had long been festering the sexual fantasy of exposing his cock to his mother. As evidence by what he did after she left his room last night after her seeing his cock and watching him cum, obviously he masturbated over the thoughts of him masturbating in front of her. Now with her catching him masturbating and with her watching him cumming, with him already living out his sexual fantasy with his mother, it was her turn to live out her sexual fantasy with her son.
Embarrassed? Doubting that he was embarrassed exposing his cock to her, she wasn't embarrassed seeing his cock either. If he asked her, in the way that she was and in the way that he appeared too, sexually excited would be a better choice of words. For her to masturbate herself last night over the forbidden sight of seeing her son's big prick and watching him cum, if anything, she was just as incestuously, sexually wicked as he was. If anything, with her not having sex with anyone but her fingers, vibrator, and dildo, she wanted to have sex with him as she imagined he wanted to have sex with her. Obviously with him willing to talk about what happened last night, as sexually erotic as it was insightful, she probed him to talk more about their game of mutual voyeurism, exhibitionism, and masturbation.
"Why are you embarrassed?" She looked at him shaking her head while hoping to encourage him to talk more about his sexual feelings, hopefully sexually feelings for her. "You shouldn't be embarrassed. Besides, I've seen your penis before. It was no big deal for me to see your penis," she said lying. "I used to change your dirty diaper and give you baths," she said laughing a nervous, little laugh.
Feeling one another out with neither of them wanting to take the first step over the incestuous line even though theoretical they already had with them masturbating over one another, he appeared just as careful as she was in monitoring what he said or didn't say. They were walking uncharted ground here. As if walking on thin ice of a pond, one false step could be their fatal flaw exposed.
I'm not embarrassed that you saw my cock. I'm more embarrassed that you caught me masturbating," he said.
She waved a hand of feigned, uncaring, nonsensical disinterest.
"Don't be embarrassed. You have a beautiful cock," she said seemingly swooning at her imagine thought of seeing his cock again in her sexually frustrated mind. "Everyone masturbates."
With him falling into her little trap, he sipped his coffee while looking at his mother with curiosity written all over his face. Looking perplexed and with the question written all over his face, obviously, he was pondering the thought of asking her if she masturbates. Did he dare ask her the question that would turn this conversation from innocent to incestuous? Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how one perceived their conversation that sparked their incestuous lust for one another, he finally asked her the question that forever changed their close mother and son relationship to an incestuously sexual one.
He looked in his mother's green eyes. They were pretty. Like two glistening emeralds staring back at him, he's always been mesmerized by his mother's jewel like eyes. Most people have brown, blue, or hazel eyes, but she had green eyes. He supposed they were hazel but they always looked greener, especially if she was wearing something green.
Born with the genetic mutation, Distichiasis, that gave her a double set of long eyelashes, they say that Elizabeth Taylor had deep blue eyes that appeared violet. His mother was born with Distichiasis too, a condition that caused men to stare at her beautiful eyes. With some women her age already giving up on their looks and sexuality, letting themselves go and even packing on the pounds, even without her hair done and without her wearing makeup, she was still a very pretty and sexy woman.
An old movie buff in the heyday of Elizabeth Taylor, Katherine Hepburn, and Lauren Bacall, in the way she carried herself and articulated her words, she sometimes reminded him of Dina Merrill, from the original Mission Impossible TV series of old. Only, according to his father, being that she was much bustier than Dina Merrill, she looked more like Lee Remick with blonde hair from the old Paul Newman, James Stewart, and Glen Ford movies that he always watched. Yet, his favorite actress, the one with the best body, his father was fixated on Angie Dickinson when watching her old reruns, especially when she played Sgt. Pepper Anderson in Police Woman. He'd proclaim to anyone who'd listen, especially when he had been drinking, that his wife looked just like her. Admittedly, his mother did look a little like Angie Dickinson, especially when she dressed up as a police woman one Halloween.
Influenced by his father, Jason is a movie buff too. Because of how beautiful his father thought his mother was, when Jason lived at home ten years ago, he'd masturbate himself while imagining he was having sex with Dina Merrill, Lee Remick, and Angie Dickinson instead of having sex with his mother. Easier to imagine having sex with his mother when pretending she was a movie star, he couldn't imagine having sex with his mother then as he's willing to imagine having sex with her now. He wondered if Dina Merrill, Lee Remick, and Angie Dickinson had sons, and if they did have sons, if they were as sexually aroused by their mothers as he was by their mothers and is by his own mother.
Only, this morning, barely 6am, she was wearing makeup and her blonde hair was fixed too. Moreover, she was wearing perfume. Funny how he didn't notice any of that before. Too busy staring at the tops of her meaty breasts, instead of her hair, he didn't notice that her hair was already coiffed. Too busy staring at her long line of cleavage, he didn't notice she had already made up her eyes. Too busy staring at the big impressions her hard nipples made in her nightgown, he didn't notice her lips were painted red. Too busy ogling his mother's nearly naked body when the refrigerator's open door light illuminated her, he just perceived her as he has always done, as his sexy MILF of a mother.
Then, he wondered, duh, why was she wearing makeup and perfume, and why was her hair already fixed? She never does her hair and makeup at this hour of the morning. It was then that he remembered hearing her shower running in his sleep. She took her shower while he was still sleeping. That's odd. Content to lounge in bed while watching TV, until she gets up to make coffee, she never showers that early. Now here she is showered, with her hair fixed, and wearing makeup, something he could get used to seeing, he wished she looked like this every morning.
It was so early, too early for even him to be up, he's not usually up at this hour of the morning, especially on a Saturday morning when he doesn't have to report for work. Only, after all that happened last night with his mother catching him masturbating, he woke up horny. He couldn't sleep. Wanting to masturbate, after hearing his mother walking around in the kitchen, he decided to come downstairs.
He wondered, is she going out? Does she have an early morning doctor's appointment? Or maybe, he'd like to think, that she fixed her hair and was wearing makeup and perfume just for him. A sexual fantasy that took hold of him as if this was his reality, he liked to think that his mother was looking especially pretty this morning just for him. Instead of thinking of her as his mother, he preferred thinking of her as Dina Merrill, Lee Remick, or Angie Dickinson. Instead of thinking of having sex with his mother, even though they're old and/or dead now in the case of Lee Remick, he'd rather think of her as his very own personal movie star. Instead of thinking of her as his mother, he preferred thinking of her as being his older, cougar of a sexy girlfriend.
Only, a long stretch, other than her catching him masturbating and her flashing him her tits at the kitchen table and flashing him her panties whenever they played Scrabble, other than a bit of exhibitionism and voyeurism, nothing sexual has ever happened between them. Other than him always masturbating with the thoughts of imagining his mother naked while having sex with her, this is the first time that they've had a conversation about masturbation and/or about sex. With her big breasts demanding his focused attention, this is the first time she sat at the kitchen table without having the modesty of wearing a bathrobe. This was the first time that he's seeing so very much of her beautiful breasts.
Now with her opening the door with this discussion about masturbation and with her telling him not to be embarrassed because he masturbates, he needed to ask her outright if she masturbates too. Somehow not thinking her human and perceiving her above base sexual feelings such as the self-abuse of masturbation, he couldn't imagine his mother masturbating. While she pulled, turned, twisted, and fingered her nipples, he couldn't imagine her with her nightgown up to her waist, her knees spread, and her fingers inside of her while she wiggled all over her bed. He couldn't imagine her using a vibrator, a dildo, or looking at pictures of naked men.
Unable to go there and unable to hear her, he couldn't imagine his mother moaning while having an orgasm. Putting how saintly he felt about his mother aside, he needed to ask her his question. He needed to know her answer. For him to take the next step across the line of incest and for him to think of her as a woman instead of as his mother, he needed to know if she masturbates too.
This was it. It was now or never. He may never have the opportunity again of asking her sexual questions that he has now with this open and honest conversation about masturbation. This may be the start of something very beautiful or this could be the beginning of something very bad.
Afraid of poisoning the well and ruining their close mother and son relationship by going too far with his probing, sexual question, he had a difficult time treating her as a potential sexual partner which is what he was really hoping to do. Making sense to him, he figured, unless she had an early morning doctor's appointment, if she wasn't interested in having sex with him, she wouldn't have dolled herself up at this early hour of the morning. Right? He figured that if she wasn't as sexually interested in him as he was sexually interested in her, she wouldn't be sitting across from him with her breasts spilling out of her nightgown. Right? Taking a sip of his coffee as if he was taking a sip of scotch for courage, while staring at her long line of cleavage that seemingly continued forever in a valley of sexual delight, he braced himself before asking her his question.
"Do you masturbate?"
She looked at him looking at her before repeating his question.
"Do I masturbate?"
One didn't need to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking. By the sexually aroused look on her face, one didn't need to be a mind reader to know that she does masturbate. With the mere mention of the question, now he was able to see his mother pleasuring herself in her bed and/or in her bathtub. He paused to look at her while imagining his mother masturbating herself. He paused to look at her while imagining her naked. He paused to look at her breasts while imagining having sex with her.
"Somehow, I can't imagine you masturbating," he said nervously while obviously hinting for her to tell him more about her masturbating herself.
Forget about her masturbating, now he couldn't help himself from imagining getting out of his chair to stand beside her. Pulling out his prick, he imagined offering it to her lipstick decorated mouth while he reached his hand down her low cut nightgown to feel and fondle her breast while fingering her nipples. Forget about her masturbating, he couldn't help himself from imagining her blowing him and actually sucking his cock before cumming in his mother's beautiful mouth. No matter if she was Dina Merrill, Lee Remick, Angie Dickinson, or his mother, he was horny and he needed to cum whether by his own hand or by her mouth.
* * * * *
Part Eleven: Mary confesses her personal sexual secrets to her son.
Finally getting somewhere in an intimate albeit incestuous sexual place where she wanted to be with her son, Mary looked at Jason with a sexy smile while imagining herself masturbating him as he masturbated her. As if he was masturbating herself now, she imagined him feeling her breasts, fingering her nipples, and rubbing her clit while she fondled and stroked his cock. A mutual masturbation fest, how hot would that be for them to masturbate one another?
In the way that some women considered giving a hand job or even a blowjob as not really having sex, she wondered if masturbation between a mother and her son would be deemed incest or not really having sex at all. Perhaps masturbation would be deemed incestuous but surely, in this modern and sexually open generation, mutual masturbation wouldn't be deemed as having sex. Would it? It wasn't as if they were licking, sucking, and fucking. They were just rubbing and stroking. If anything, as if giving one another a massage, they'd only be stroking, rubbing, and fingering one another. What's the big deal? Certainly, there's no harm in a mother touching and feeling her son and a son touching and feeling his mother, is there?
"Of course I masturbate," she said eager to discuss her sexual fantasies with him while hoping he'd cross the incestuous line first by discussing his sexual fantasies with her.
Enjoying the warmth of her coffee, Mary held her coffee cup in both hands as if she was holding his cock with two hands and was about to raise his prick to her lips. They remained silent for a long moment with her looking at him and him staring into her eyes before continuing to stare at her exposed cleavage. Proud of her breasts, she loved her tits and she loved that he was staring at her tits while, hopefully, lusting over her sexually. Seldom showing off her breasts to anyone but her husband and now no longer to even him, she was sexually excited to show her son all that he was seeing of her while wearing her sexy, red nightgown.
In the way that he stared at her tits, something that no man has done in a very long time, he made her feel sexy. He made her feel young and sexually viable again. Making her feel like a woman again instead of an old wife and mother, he made her feel alive sexually. After her husband left her for someone else, a much younger woman and a stripper no doubt, after being so rejected by a man who supposedly loved her, she never believed that she could feel sexy again.
While watching him staring at all that he could see down her open nightgown top, Jason's uninterrupted gaze made her sexually aroused. In the way that he looked at her, stared at her, and leered at her made her want to show him more than less. Not covering herself from the leering heat of his stare by moving her hand to close her open top or folding her arms across her breasts to limit his view, instead she leaned forward to show him even more of what he was obviously hoping to see. Enjoying the sexual attention her son paid her, with her suddenly enjoying being an exhibitionist, she allowed him his voyeuristic fun. Enjoying sexually teasing him, she was having fun playing this game of exhibitionism and voyeurism. With much of her cleavage already exposed, she wondered how much of her breasts he could see. She wondered if he could see the tops of her areolas or even her nipples.
Only, a delicate situation, baffled what to do next, she didn't know how to proceed. She didn't know what to do to take the next step to bring this sexual teasing to the next level of them having an incestuous, sexual relationship. With her suddenly showing him so very much of her breasts, sexually teasing him as much as any woman should who's not his mother, she wondered what he thought of her. She wondered if he thought she was hot. She wondered if he was as sexually attracted to her as she was sexually attracted to him. She wondered if he thought she was just a foolish, horny, old woman hoping for one last sexual hurrah.
Just as she could easily and willingly go beyond the reality of him being her son, she wondered if he could easily and willingly go beyond the reality of her being his mother. Being that she was only his lover in her fantasies, in reality, she didn't want him to think of her as a slut or as an incestuous whore. Yet, in deference to her being his mother, she still hoped that he'd think of her as a sexual woman instead of only as his mother. She hoped that he'd want her as much as she wanted him. If his erection and leering stare at his breasts was any indication of his sexual lust for her than this may be the start of something unbelievably good.
Nonetheless their obvious sexual interest in one another, they were both stuck in limbo. Stuck with him showing her his stiff pajama clad cock and her showing him the tops of her breasts and her sexy, long, line of cleavage, she didn't know how she could get him in her bedroom. Even though the distance from the kitchen to her bedroom wasn't very far at all, the road to him being naked and in her bedroom with her naked too was indeed a long road to travel. With her already more than ready and willing, she didn't know how to get him naked for her to get his cock in her hand, in her mouth, and in her pussy. Only, surprising even her, he was about to take the next step for her.
* * * * *
Part Twelve: "What do you think about when pleasuring yourself?"
"Just curious," he said biting his lip. "If you don't mind me asking and you don't have to answer if my question is too personal but," he said with a pause. He looked from her eyes to her breasts before looking back up at her eyes again. "What do you think about when you're touching yourself and pleasuring yourself?"
Bingo! Good question. Now that was a good start to begin their incestuous ball rolling. Wanting to confess that she thinks about him but not wanting him to think badly of her, playing it safe with her being his mother, she wanted him to tell her first what he thinks about when masturbating.
"You first," she said with a naughty twinkle in her eye while looking at him as if he was an available man she met at the supermarket instead of her son. "If you tell me what you think about while masturbating, I'll tell you what I think about when masturbating," she said leaning even more forward to rest her elbows on the kitchen table and to stare in his eyes as if she was having a conversation with the bartender at a bar.
Only, when she leaned forward like that, a well-rehearsed move, with her nightgown leaning forward and opening with her, she knew she was flashing him even more of her breasts. Having practiced this move in her mirror several times before, she knew that he could see the tops of her meaty breasts and her long line of cleavage. Obviously by his stare, unable to stop himself from looking, leering actually, with him an active participant in her game of sexual teasing, incestuous seduction, and exhibitionism and voyeurism, he was staring right down her open nightgown top as if she wasn't even wearing a nightgown at all.
With the lustful heat of his stare, she could feel her nipples erecting, growing hard, and pushing against the thin material of her sheer nightgown. With him obviously enjoying the down nightgown view of her C cup breasts, with the thought that she was so wickedly exposing the tops of her breasts and cleavage to her son, she could feel a familiar sticky wetness between her legs. So long as he didn't take offense to her being salaciously sexy, no longer feeling like his mother but rather feeling like such a slut, she liked the feeling of being an incestuous whore.
Now with her showing him so much of her tits, and with her not having practiced leaning this far forward in her mirror, she wondered how much of her breasts he really could see. Hoping he could, if he couldn't see them before, she wondered if he could see the tops of her areolas now. Hoping he could, if he couldn't see them before, she wondered if he could see her hard, erect nipples now.
"Gees, Mom, I don't know if I can do that. I don't know if I can tell you what I think about when masturbating. I'd be so embarrassed to tell you what goes through my mind when I'm playing with myself," he said taking a nervous sip of his coffee.
Acting as if it was no big deal to her, she rolled her eyes and sighed in her effort to put him more at ease.
"Don't be embarrassed," she said in a soothing and calming motherly albeit sexy voice. "Tell me what do you think about when masturbating? If you tell me what you think about when masturbating," she said giving him a sexy stare. "I'll tell you what I think about when masturbating myself," she said.
As if there was a silent drumroll of suspense, in the way that she thinks about him naked when masturbating herself, she wondered if he was going to confess that he thinks of her naked when masturbating himself. In the way that she thinks about having sex with him when masturbating herself, she wondered if he was going to confess that he thinks of having sex with her when masturbating himself. She only hoped to God that he sexually wanted her as much as she sexually wanted him. Now or never, she'd discover soon if they were embarking on an incestuous, sexual relationship or not.
This was it. This was finally it. Hopefully, her son was going to take the first step across the imaginary line of incest by telling her that he not only thinks about her naked but also that he imagines having sex with her. Jason was finally going to tell his mother that he wants her sexually as much as she wants him sexually. Once he confesses his incestuous, sexual secret, then she'll reciprocate and confess her incestuous, sexual secret too.
"Actually, no big secret, that's an easy question for me to answer," he said with a laugh. "I imagine having sex with Jennifer Nettles. I imagine seeing her naked."
She was crushed. As if her sexual excitement immediately dissipated in the way of a plug coming loose from a wall socket, she could feel the color drain from her face. Thinking that he did, he didn't want her. He wanted Jennifer Nettles, an imaginary figment of his imagination.
Nonetheless, encouraged that he confided in her, yet she was disappointed that he chose someone he could never have over someone he could have right here and right now. Moreover, there was no way that she could compete with the imagined image that he had of a beautiful, sexy, and young, country western singer. Seemingly, other than flashing her tits now at the kitchen table and her panties whenever they played Scrabble, what else could she do to make her son sexually want her?