Gender: Female Age: 57 Location: New York
|Introduction: How will a horny mother deal with her son's masturbation habits?|
My Son's Cum Rag, Part 2
I anxiously checked the clock. Only two minutes had passed since the last time I'd checked. I couldn't believe how keyed up I was-I hadn't been this horny since I was a high school virgin. All I could think about was how much longer it would be before my son came home from school, and whether or not he'd be up for repeating the crazy little game we'd played the day before.
Several times throughout the day I had to question if it had all been a deliciously decadent dream, or had it been real? Since I was holding the small white towel that I'd used to clean up the gobs of warm sperm from my boy's tummy and penis after he'd jerked himself off right in front of me in his bedroom yesterday it had to be real.
I once again sniffed that stained towel as I glanced out the window to see if Nick's school bus was anywhere in sight. The sweet, primal scent of his dried semen sent tingles down my back. I rubbed my crotch, desperate to make myself cum, but I mustered every ounce of willpower to hold off and save it for later. I'd already changed panties twice after having soaked them through and through just thinking about what might happen when he got home from school. I hadn't realized I could actually still produce so much pussy juice at my age!
The whole thing was somewhat silly. I was perfectly aware of how pathetic it was that I was having these outrageously lustful feelings toward my own teenaged son. I mean, it wasn't like I was lonely, or stuck in some kind of sexless marriage. I loved my husband, and we had a satisfactory sex life. Granted, we weren't setting the world afire with our bedroom activities, but I was quite happy with our routine.
So why was I suddenly looking at my son as an object of sexual fascination? What sane, middle-aged mother in a happy marriage would do something as unthinkable as convincing her boy to masturbate in front of her? I wouldn't dare tell anyone that I'd done such a thing, which confirmed for me that what I was doing was bad. It seemed so obviously wrong, but for the life of me I couldn't come up with a good reason just exactly why it was so wrong.
Sure we were mother and son, but it wasn't like I had forced him to do it. Nick certainly enjoyed it. I definitely enjoyed it. It made us both feel good, brought us closer together, and maybe it will help him become more comfortable with himself sexually. I paced around the house aimlessly churning over the pros and cons in my head for the twentieth time since I woke up. There was just one thing I that worried me.
What if he walked through the door and couldn't look me in the eye. Nick was a smart kid, and I was sure he'd spent at least part the last twenty-four hours considering the weird encounter he'd had with his mother. It's entirely possible that once the fever of the moment passed, and he came to his senses, that he realized how sick it was that his mom talked him into whacking off in front of her. There would be shame, and guilt, and doubt. With a clear head, he might even be repulsed by the whole thing. I mean, what boy wouldn't be conflicted about getting off to his mother's boobs? Or worse, he could be angry with me for taking advantage of him for my own perverse pleasure.
I checked out the window again and saw the big yellow bus lumbering around the corner. I felt excited, nauseous, and insanely horny all at the same time. This was it. I tucked the cum rag I was holding behind a sofa cushion, grabbed a magazine and sat down as if it was just another ordinary day.
The wait dragged on, but finally I heard him come in through the back door. Usually this was a noisy affair as his backpack was dumped on the floor, his sneakers kicked off in a careless rush, and him tromping through the kitchen in search of an afterschool snack. I listened, but there was none of the usual ruckus. I tried to focus on my magazine but nothing on the page was registering in my hyped-up brain.
I looked up and saw Nick peeking into the living room with a stricken look in his eyes. My heart fell a little, not knowing how to read that expression.
"Hi, sweetheart. How was school today?"
"Regular, I guess." He was having a hard time looking straight at me. He shrugged his shoulders nervously, and lingered just outside the threshold of the living room as if he wasn't sure what to say or do next.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, casually flipping a page.
"Sure...um, okay then, I'm going to go hang out in my room, I guess."
"Are you going to masturbate?" I said the words without thinking.
He chuckled and looked down at the floor. I had no idea if I was making things better or worse. I tried to swallow away the lump in my throat, but it didn't help.
"I don't know. Maybe." He fidgeted for a moment, then shrugged again. "Probably."
I knew what I wanted to say, but he looked so painfully uncomfortable that I couldn't bring myself to push the issue any further. It might have been what he was waiting for, but I couldn't tell for certain.
Before I could formulate a coherent response, he gave me a goofy salute and disappeared around the corner. I wanted to jump up and chase after him, but stayed put. I couldn't force it, or crowd him. I had to let him figure it out for himself, and-
"Those towels?" Nick's voice startled me. He was back at the entryway. "Those new ones you got me, you know, for ...cleaning up after. Where are they again?"
"Oh, right, I put them in the top drawer of your night stand."
"Okay, cool." He lingered.
"Is there something else you want?" I asked, trying not to sound too obvious.
"No." He ran his hand over his short crop of hair. "I just didn't know if you were going to come downstairs or not."
It was all I could do not to let out a happy squeal. "I could...if you want me to."
Looking down he gave a one-shouldered shrug. A moment later he looked up at me and nodded. I was going to have to change panties again soon.
"Are you sure? You're not having any second thoughts about any of what happened yesterday?" I didn't want to give him an excuse to back out, but I had to at least attempt to exercise a smidgen of responsible parenting. "It's okay if you're not comfortable about it. You can be honest with me and I won't be upset."
"It's not that," he said quickly. "I wasn't sure if you really...if you meant it when you said...um..."
"Slow down," I said and gave him a smile as I stood up and walked over to him. "Just tell me what you're feeling."
"I...I want to do it again, like we did yesterday, but I don't want to be annoying about it, that's all."
"Oh, sweetie." I kissed him on the forehead. "Why would I be annoyed? I enjoyed our special time together yesterday." I gave his ribs a tickle, which got him to squirm and crack a smile. "Enough with the serious face, mister. Let's hurry up and have some fun before Timmy gets home."
I followed him down into the basement to his bedroom. He went to his nightstand drawer, and fetched out a clean towel.
"Should I just take it out, like before?"
"If you want." I couldn't get over how handsome he looked standing there all unsure and excited. "Or you can go ahead and get naked, if you like."
Without hesitating Nick pulled off his t-shirt, dropped his pants and then pulled down his underwear. In a matter of seconds he had on nothing but a pair of white socks. His cock was almost fully hard, and it bounced enticingly as he tugged off those socks.
"Turn around and let me see your butt," I said half-jokingly.
"Let me see yours."
I turned and gave him a wiggle. I was wearing my tightest pair of jeans that I could actually fit into. My butt is almost non-existent, but I think it's still pretty sexy.
Nick laughed at my display and returned the favor. He was the cutest thing alive. His behind was as smooth as when he was a baby, but now there was obviously some muscle in those cheeks. Yum!
"Okay, silly, quit screwing around and let's take care of that hard dick of yours."
He flopped onto his bed and grabbed his erection. I wanted to jump on top of him and ravish the hell out of my sexy young man, but I managed to control myself. Watching was one thing, but taking it any further was out of the question.
Looking down at himself, Nick began stroking. I sat on the edge of his bed, my heart beating like mad, and I greedily took in the erotic sight before me. It would have been wickedly exciting for me to see any man pleasure himself, but the fact that it was my sweet son doing it made it ten times more thrilling. There was no doubt in my mind that there was something deeply immoral about that.
"I couldn't stop thinking about seeing your boobs," he mumbled in a rapid spill of words.
"Is that so?" I asked coyly as a wave of pins and needles played across my skin ending as a happy tingling sensation in both my nipples.
"I had a hard-on practically all day."
"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've seen much better boobs with all the online porn you look at."
"Yeah, but yours are for real." He was blushing.
"So, I'm guessing that means you wouldn't mind seeing them again?"
Nick nodded, wide-eyed and eager. This was going even better than my fantasy! I pulled my shirt off over my head. He stared at my satin, ivory-colored padded bra with rapt anticipation. I reached around back to unfasten the clasp and paused.
"Now, you're sure seeing my breasts will help get you off?" I couldn't help tormenting him just a little. "You won't feel guilty about jerking off to you own mother's boobs?"
"No," he insisted, "I know it's not normal, but you're the hottest mom out of anyone, and I liked seeing you like that yesterday more than anything ever."
Nick earned his prize. I unhooked my bra and let it slide away, revealing my modest breasts. Reflexively, I gave them a squeeze and a jiggle as soon as they were free, pinching my already erect nipples. Nick's reaction was immediate.
My son began pounding his engorged cock harder and faster. His eyes were fixed on my chest, and his breathing quickened. The sound of his fist working up and down his shaft was beautiful music to my ears. I was captivated by the way his balls, dangling freely between his legs, bounced up and down in rhythm with his frantic masturbation. I wanted to tell him to slow down and enjoy it, but seeing him beating off so intently within arm's reach of me was too appealing to interrupt.
"You really do like your Mommy's tits, don't you?" I said, trying to coax him into talking.
"Yes..." he muttered breathlessly.
I cupped my boobs, lifting them and squeezing them together. My thumbs played over my hard nipples. I'd only ever done this sort of thing for my husband. It was a huge boost to this suburban soccer-mom's ego to see the reaction I was getting from someone new (even if it was my son).
"That's it, honey, look at my tits and make yourself cum." I hardly ever talked dirty in bed with my husband, but I didn't feel as self-conscious with Nick for some reason. It was like the more excited I got the easier the nasty words came out of my mouth. "Stroke that big cock, and-"
"Fuck, Mom! uuhhh!" Nick cried out suddenly and began spurting jets of milky goo all over his chest and belly. He thrashed helplessly and kept pulling at his erection. His face was contorted as if in pain, but I knew he was feeling the exact opposite in that moment.
"There you go, sweetie. Get it all out." I marveled at the quantity of cum he was spattering all over himself.
His body relaxed. Seconds later a tremor shook him, and then another came moments after. It had only taken about fifteen seconds for him to orgasm after I bared my breasts for him.
"My, my, that was quick," I said, trying not to drool as I looked him up and down.
"No need to be sorry. I'll take it as a compliment." I gave him a wink and reached for the towel. When I leaned forward to dab up the biggest puddle of near on his belly my stiff nipple brushed against his bare thigh.
My first instinct was to pull away, but instead I pressed forward letting my swaying breast rub against him as I cleaned up his naughty mess. As I reached for the cum that had shot all the way up to his chest, my left tit made gentle contact with his erection. I wanted to rub myself all over his body and hump myself against his developing muscles, but that was much too far over the line.
The head of his cock was coated with remnants of his powerful ejaculation. Nick watched me without uttering a word, his breath slowly returning to normal. I gingerly took his shaft between my fingers like the previous day and carefully cleaned away the residue with the towel. Much to his surprise, and mine, I found myself wrapping my hand around his hard cock, gripping it tight, and pulling upward to milk one last glob of cum out of him. I had an urge to lick up that pearl of semen, but quickly used the towel to wipe it away before I could give in to such an abominable desire.
"There," I said, "all nice and clean."
"That felt good."
"That's why we masturbate."
"No, that too, but I meant I like the way it feels when you clean up for me."
"Oh, well..." I felt my cheeks getting warm, "I suppose that makes sense." I realized that I was still holding onto his erection. It seemed so big for a boy his age that I couldn't get over it. "It feels good for me, too," I confessed and gave his dick a few casual pumps before I even realized what I was doing. A little moan came out of him.
I should have let go. Right that second, I should have taken my hand away, put my top back on, and headed upstairs. But that's not what I did.
"Are you all finished, or do you want to cum again?" I asked as if it was a perfectly normal question for a mother to pose to her son.
"Do you want to do it yourself," my mouth was running ahead of my brain again, "or would you like me to do it for you?" I gave him a couple more easy pulls.
"My arm is kinda tired, now that I think about it." He gave me a sly smirk.
I began stroking him up and down. "It's been a while since I've given a boy a handjob, so let me know if I'm doing it right."
"I will, Mom."
I massaged his cock in my hand, exploring each contour, feeling the virile power in his straining manhood. His sensitive skin slid like a silken sheath beneath my grip. I could feel the ringed ridges of his shaft, and the pulse of hot blood filling every pubescent vein. The edge of his mushroom head met my hand at the top of each stroke, and the soft flesh of his scrotum caressed the heel of my fist with each down stroke. But it was the look of pure ecstasy on my little boy's face that gave me the most satisfaction.
"How's that?" I asked even though the answer was apparent.
"Your hands are so soft..." he whimpered dreamily.
"And you don't think it's creepy that your mother is jerking you off right now?"
"You're the best mom in the world..."
Maybe I was certifiably crazy, but I couldn't think of a time that I felt more contented and loved. I leaned down and let a long trail of saliva dribble from between my lips and land directly on his beautiful cock. Only a few inches lower and I could have taken him into my mouth, but I sat up straight and didn't let myself get carried away. I was already well beyond where I had decided I was willing to go with him. I had convinced myself that looking was okay, but that touching was out of bounds. I smeared my spit around his shaft, and then added a little more to make sure it was good and slick.
Clearly jacking off my son was inappropriate, but how bad was it when you really think about it? I mean he and I touched all the time without it being a crime. Was it really so different from running my fingers through his hair, holding his hand, or giving him a nice hug? Of course it was, but I wasn't about to admit that to myself.
"You have such a nice penis," I admired proudly. "So perfect and hard."
"I'm glad you like it, Mom," he murmured with a chuckle.
"And your balls are just so cute." I ran my hand down and permitted myself to fondle them for a few indulgent seconds. They really were adorable.
"I can't believe you're really doing this," Nick breathed.
"That makes two of us."
By the way he was moving his hips I could tell he wanted me to go faster, but I wanted to make this last. I also wanted him to know the pleasure of delayed gratification. I knew how good it felt to just go at yourself like wild and get off as quickly as possible, but as a mature woman I also knew the benefits of taking things slow and drawing out the pleasure.
My tits jiggled with each stroke I gave his cock. It felt amazing to be so open and uninhibited with my body. Even with my husband after all these years together I could still get self-conscious about being exposed in front of him. With Nick it was unexpectedly different. It was like we were connected in a deeper way that defied the fear of being judged or evaluated. I knew that he would accept me as I was, just like I would love him no matter what. This unconditionally security with each other was unlike anything I'd experienced with any other person in my life.
A frothy foam of pre-cum was gathering at the tip of my son's cock. Without any hesitation I circled the head of his leaking dick around one of my nipples. The soft touch of his engorged cap against my aroused nub evoked a giggle of delight from me. He groaned and arched his back, trying to press himself further. I slapped his prick against my other nipple, enjoying the sharp sensation each strike elicited.
"Holy shit, Mom, that's so fucking good," he sputtered as his eyes rolled with delirious bliss. "So fucking good..."
"I guess I haven't lost my touch," I replied and picked up the pace. "You ready to cum yet? Is my big boy ready to shoot another big load of cum?"
I toyed with his balls using my free hand, and jacked him faster. "I want to see this big cock cum. I want to make my boy squirt all over himself. Come on, Nick, do you want to cum for Mommy?"
"Show me that cum, baby! Cum for Mommy!"
"Yes! Oh, yes! I'm cumming...!"
I pumped steadily at his flaring hard-on, and with a final contraction I watched him erupt in my hand. The cum flooded out of his cock in a spasm of delight and oozed thickly down over my knuckles. With his head thrown back into his pillow he let out a continuous series of moans and grunts of satisfaction. The wet warmness of his fresh spunk trickled along my fingers. I was tingling all over, especially between my legs.
"How'd I do?" I asked, giving his prick one more loving squeeze before releasing it.
"That was awesome, Mom."
I located Nick's cum rag and reluctantly cleaned the semen off of the back of my hand.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." I used the towel to dry off my son's dick, and dab up the few drops of jizz that had ended up in his modest patch of pubic hair. I went about my work very slowly and very thoroughly. Nick seemed content to let me fuss around down there as long as I wanted.
"I came so hard that my balls hurt," he chuckled.
"My poor baby," I cooed and gave his wrinkly sack a tender massage.
I traced my fingernails around his groin, as I absently gazed at his penis. I loved how even after cumming twice he was still hard and at full attention. My hand meandered up to his tummy and I tickled my touch along the faint trail of hairs leading down from his belly button. He lay quietly in drowsy gratification. When I looked up at his face I could tell that he was happily staring at my chest as I caressed him. I'd almost forgotten that my tits were out. I suddenly felt uncertain about exposing myself like this to him. But even this wave of misgiving became a twisted kind of turn on for me as I ran my fingertips along the length of his sticky shaft.
"Is it true what you said yesterday?" Nick asked in a soft voice. "Did you really go up to your room and play with yourself after you watched me jerk off?"
"I did," I confessed.
"Are you going to do it again today?"
I cupped his balls in my hand. "Absolutely. To be honest, all this is probably as exciting for me as it is for you."
"How do you do it?"
"What do you mean?" My hands massaged his strong thighs.
"Like, when you play with yourself, do you just touch yourself, or..."
"Oh, I see." This seemed so unreal. "I mostly masturbate using my fingers, but I have a small vibrator that I use sometimes."
"That's cool," he said. I could detect the nervousness in his voice. "So, do you just use the vibrator on the outside, or do you put it in sometimes too?"
Wow, he was a curious little monkey. And I was glad for it. Talking openly about my masturbation techniques with my son was oddly liberating (and incredibly arousing).
"I usually just use the vibrator on my clit. You know what a clit is, right?"
"The clitoris, yeah," he nodded.
I guess there wasn't much kids didn't know about sex these days with the internet and all.
"To be honest, I also have another toy I use, but it's a secret. Your dad doesn't know about it, but I have a dildo that's shaped like a real penis. I use it when I want to masturbate with something inside me."
"Geez, Mom, I never thought you were so kinky," he teased.
"Hey, you asked," I protested and gave him a pinch for good measure. "Besides, women have been using dildos for thousands of years, so just because I use one every once in a while doesn't mean you can call me kinky."
"How about jerking off your son, can I call you kinky for doing that?"
"Okay, I suppose you got me there." Our eyes met over the expanse of his naked body, his stiff cock lying between us as we shared knowing smiles. I patted his leg, then stood up. I found my bra on the floor and worked my way back into it, Nick unabashedly watching my every move.
"You don't have to go upstairs, Mom," he said as I began hunting for my top.
"I know I don't have to, but I really need to."
"No, what I mean is that you don't have to go upstairs to play with yourself...you could do it right here."
If he only knew how badly I wanted the same thing.
"I don't think that would be a good idea, sweetheart." I fumbled with my shirt, trying to get it turned right-side out while my brain was going haywire.
"Why not? You said masturbating was beautiful, and natural, and that we didn't have to hide it from each other."
"What I said was that you didn't have to hide what you were doing from me. It doesn't work the other way around."
I finally managed to get my top on and tried to come up with a better argument than 'Because I said so.' This task was made all the more difficult by the fact that my darling boy was still completely nude and sporting a never-ending boner.
"Trust me, you don't want to see your mother's old-lady pussy, and you especially don't want to see me playing with myself. I'm sure there are plenty of young hotties on your computer who you'd be much happier seeing do that."
He made his pouty face, the one he always uses when I don't give him what he wants. My resolve was on the verge of disintegrating already, and then that sad face of his. I knew that if he made one more halfway reasonable argument I was likely to give in.
"Are you kidding? Seeing it for real would be a million times better, and you're way sexier than those fake girls on the porn sites. And, plus, you got to watch me do it, so I should get to see you." He was sitting up at this point as he rattled off his list of reasons I should masturbate in front of him. "And, anyway, you already let me see you half naked, so what's the big deal?"
Nick must have detected that I was about to cave. Kids are so damn good at knowing just the right moment to take advantage of a weak-willed parent. I realized that I was fiddling with the top button of my jeans. It was insane that I would even allow myself to fantasize about something as profoundly taboo as pleasuring myself while my son watched me, and yet there I was about to actually do it.
"It's a big deal to me," I corrected him as my top button came undone, "but you-"
We both heard the back door slam upstairs, and panic instantly iced my insides.
"Timmy's home!" Nick rasped, pointing out the obvious in a tense whisper.
"Okay, stay calm." I wasn't feeling anything near calm myself. I turned around and fastened my jeans, hoping that maybe he hadn't noticed I'd popped them open in the first place. "Just get dressed, and I'll go up. Stay down here for a while, I don't want you walking around the house with that hard-on."
"All right, everything's fine, there's no reason he would suspect anything strange is going on just because I'm down here. If he asks, I'll just say I was talking to you about your grades." I checked myself over to makes sure there wasn't any stray cum on me anywhere. "How are your grades?"
"Good. We're good. Right?"
"Chill, Mom! He's going to know you're spazzing out about something if you keep talking like that."
"You're right. Deep breath. Just a normal day. Nothing freaky going on."
I headed for the door, then went back and gave Nick a quick kiss on the lips. I wanted to grab his cock again, but I held back. I hurried upstairs and found my younger son already planted in the living room in front of a video game.
"No homework today and I already brought the garbage barrels in," he rattled off before I could interrogate him about his responsibilities.
"One hour, then turn it off and go outside and play for a while." I waited for an acknowledgement, but he was already too absorbed in the game.
It was just as well. Nick was right. If Timmy was paying any attention to me he'd know right off the bat that something was weird with me. For a split second I considered slipping back downstairs to see if Nick was still naked. It was too big of a risk with Timmy home, and after the shock of almost getting caught I was thinking clearly enough by that time to know better. As I nonchalantly headed upstairs I sniffed the back of my hand.
The scent was still fresh. It would have to be enough. Once safely behind the closed door of my bedroom, I stripped down and treated myself to a wonderful session fueled by the fresh images of my sexy boy and his cock. Only a few days before I would have been satisfied with one good orgasm, but with what was going on it took no less than three to get me somewhat close to fulfilled.
As I lay sprawled out on my bed feeling totally relaxed and basking in the afterglow of my private exertions I started to wonder about the serious consequences of what I was doing. I was risking a lot by letting what had started as a fantasy take me over. I was thinking and doing things that no good mother should. This wasn't who I was. I had always enjoyed sex, but plain vanilla normal sex had always been more than enough for me. Ever since I spied on Nick masturbating that day something had changed. Was this really something new, or had this 'kinkiness' been bottled up inside me all my life?
My rational side was under no illusions that what I was doing with my son was wrong. For God's sake, only half an hour earlier I was playing with his balls and jacking him off with my naked boobs flopping around everywhere. I was using his natural adolescent curiosity and my authority as his parent to manipulate my son into quenching my lust for something I never even knew I wanted.
If anyone found out what I was doing it would be a disaster. My husband would never understand and our marriage would be over for sure. There's no telling what it would do to little Timmy if he found out what his mother was doing to his big brother. I could almost see my mug shot in the local paper, and shuddered at the thought of it. I also had to consider what the effect on Nick might be. He was obviously eager to participate, but that was only his hormones taking control of his mind and body. What was it going to do to him in the long run? I was probably messing up his head in all kinds of ways. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin his chances for having a healthy relationship with women. And what was he going to think of me once he got older and realized that he was actually the victim of sexual abuse?
That last thought sent a twinge through my middle. That was what I was doing, wasn't it? No matter how I tried to justify it, I was sexually abusing my own child. The guilt was suddenly heavy, filling my chest with a dark weight. But even as I struggled with what a horrible human being I was, I felt a renewed sensation between my legs. There was an insistent ache pulsing deep inside my pussy. I didn't understand what was happening.
"I love him and I don't want to hurt him," I whispered as I touched myself down there. "I have to stop sexually molesting my son." Saying the words just loud enough so only I could hear caused my vagina to clench with longing. "I can't let myself imagine what his cock would feel like inside of me." My whole body felt suddenly hot. "I have to stop making him jerk off his big young cock for me." I was rubbing myself hard and fast, my legs thrown open wide. "I shouldn't want to taste his cum." I desperately licked the back of my hand where his semen had been. "I shouldn't let my son see my tits, I shouldn't show him my naked pussy, I can't let him watch me fuck a dildo!" I was probably getting too loud, but I was too far gone to care.
The acknowledgement that I was molesting and abusing Nick was somehow driving me to new heights of sexual ecstasy. I was disgusted with myself, but that additional guilt and shame only stoked the fires more. I twisted one of my nipples mercilessly, and slapped my own pussy hard. The pain lanced through to my core and intensified every sensation of pleasure I was experiencing. I needed to be punished for what I had done. I slapped my pussy again.
What would my parents think if they knew what I was doing with their grandson? The very thought of it terrified and thrilled me. I imagined them standing in Nick's bedroom watching in shocked revulsion as their perfect, obedient daughter beat off her own son's hard cock. I could see my strictly conservative mother's horrified expression, and my father's painfully disapproving scowl. The palpable condemnation emanating from them made me want to jerk him off even harder.
Before I knew it my devoutly Christian younger sister joined the scene and began praying fervently for my damned soul, and the older brother who used to hit me for talking on the phone with boys was there, swelling with fury at the sight of his sister incestuously molesting her darling boy's penis. And all their appalled faces were merely the living representation of hundreds of stoic Korean ancestors looking down on me with accusing disgust, their spirits witnessing my sexual violations and judging the depths of my depravity.
"Bad pussy!" I groaned and slapped my cunt again, then again, and again. "Yes, I admit it," I said to the phantom jury of my family, never letting up on my pussy for a second. "I masturbated my son's cock, and I liked it. I'm a sick fucking pervert for what I did, but it felt so God damned fucking goooood!"
I arched myself up off the mattress. The relentless abuse I was inflicting on my pussy was about to result in a mind-blowing orgasm.
"I did it...I made him cum...I jerked his cock and made him cum...made him cum for me...cum for Mommy...cuuummmmm!"
In my deranged fantasy Nick's cock erupted at the moment I reached climax and the cum streamed from his cock in massive gouts, shooting across the room and dousing my mother's angry face. I directed his cock to the left and drenched my prissy little sister in hot cum. The bedsprings squeaked wildly as I thrashed and bucked my way through an orgasm that seemed to build in a rolling series of intensifying waves.
The fantasy images faded. I opened my eyes to a room that was slowly spinning to a stop. A pleasant dizziness made my head feel like it was floating away from my body. It took a few minutes before my breathing returned to normal and the fuzz cleared from my mind.
"Where the fuck did that come from?" I wondered. The bizarre mix of shame, repressed hostility and illicit desire had all crashed together to bring about a spectacular release. If things were confusing before, they had suddenly become much more complicated. There were forces at work inside me that I didn't understand, and it had become frighteningly obvious that I wasn't even entirely aware of what they were.
I tried to will myself to get out of bed and put my clothes back on, but my limbs remained limp. How could something so disturbingly wrong make me feel so good? I needed to seriously reconsider the entire situation...but not right then.
By the time I got myself together and went down to get dinner started Timmy had already headed outside. I watched him through the kitchen window kicking a soccer ball repeatedly into his practice goal and cheering himself on with simulated crowd noise after each score. He was almost as tall as his brother. It struck me at that moment that with him being fourteen that he had probably discovered masturbation by this time also. I'd always thought of him as the baby, but I couldn't ignore the fact that he was probably well into puberty and all that comes along with it.
The sound of Nick's voice at the basement door made my tummy flutter like a nervous schoolgirl. I was relieved to see he was dressed. "Oh, hey, sweetie."
"Obviously you already, um...took care of yourself."
"Oh, God, please tell me you guys couldn't hear me down here."
"No, but you might want to fix your hair before Dad gets home."
"I'll do that."
I dug a big pot out of the cupboard and began filling it with water. As I reached up to get the spaghetti out of the cabinet over the stove I could feel Nick's eyes on me as he stood quietly at the other end of the kitchen. It gave me a pleasant prickling sensation all over to be the object of his hungry gaze.
"Is there anything you want me to do?" he asked as I put the pot on the burner.
"Wow, volunteering for chores?" I joked.
"Yeah, I don't know...whatever."
"There are a couple things I'd like you to do for me. First, I could use a hug."
He came over and wrapped his arms around me, pressing his whole body tightly against mine. I held him for a nice long time, feeling his warm breath on my neck and the enjoying the feeling of my breasts squeezing hard against his chest.
"The other is that I would really like it if you went outside and kicked the soccer ball around with your brother for a while. He's out there all by himself."
"I hate soccer," he grumbled.
"But you love me, so you'll do it, right?" I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and a playful slap on the butt, before we ended our hug.
"Yeah, okay." He looked like he wanted to say something more, but decided against it and headed outside. While I watched my two young men jostling over the ball the water came to a boil.
My husband Evan and I had sex that night. It began while we were cuddled on the sofa watching TV together. My hand found its way to his crotch and it was only a matter of minutes before I had his zipper down and his cock in my mouth. He started soft and pliable, slowly growing longer and thicker as I sucked. It wasn't something I would normally do right there in the living room, but he wasn't complaining.
I was taking my time, savoring the experience, wondering if it would feel any different if it were Nick in my mouth instead of his father.
I looked up at the sound of my husband's voice and saw him lift a small white hand towel out from behind one of the cushions. Panic almost choked me when I saw him holding up the cum rag I had used to wipe up his son's semen.
"I was wondering where that went." I quickly plucked it out of his hand. "I was dusting in here the other day and it must have fallen between the cushions." I tossed it casually onto the coffee table and quickly went back to his cock, swallowing it as deeply as I could. This proved enough of a distraction to take his mind off of the towel.
Once I got him to cum in my mouth (something else I hardly ever do), I asked him to take me upstairs. He gave me a lovely orgasm with his mouth, then I used my hand and managed to get him hard enough to fuck me. The whole time Evan was on top of me I couldn't stop thinking about Nick. I imagined at first that my son was watching the two of us having sex. Then I pictured him jerking off next to me, the head of his cock against my cheek, then my lips, his precum on my tongue. Then it was Nick on top of me. It was his young, fully hard cock inside me; his lean strong body moving over mine; his hips thrusting between my open legs. I almost called out his name when I came, but was able to bite it back. My husband came also, releasing his spermless semen inside of me. It had been a while since he'd cum twice in one night. With a kiss, he rolled off of me and was asleep minutes later.
I reached down and toyed with my hole, feeling the warm sex fluids from my husband seeping out of me. "Show Mommy your cock," I whispered unexpectedly. I bit my lip and listened to Evan's breathing next to me. He remained sound asleep.
"Show Mommy how you play with your cock," I said under my breath and rubbed my clit. "Masturbate for me, Nick."
I tried to restrain my motions so the mattress wouldn't bounce. It was strange for me to be lying next to my sleeping husband and pleasuring myself when we'd just had some pretty good sex, but I couldn't help myself. And it was downright foolish to be talking dirty to myself about our son, even at a whisper.
"Mommy wants your cum," I moaned and slipped two fingers into my pussy. "Give me your cum, Nick." I added a third finger and fucked myself with my hand as delicately as I could so as not to rouse my husband. "Show Mommy how you make your cock cum, baby." My whole body shivered with silent orgasm, my throat clenched tight to keep the cries of pleasure from escaping.
Instead of getting up and cleaning myself, I drifted away to sleep with my hand still on my warm, wet pussy.
The next day had me running around doing errands, leaving little time to worry over the troublesome situation I was allowing myself to sink deeper into. One thing I knew for sure was that I had to get a handle on whatever perverse psychological demons I had inadvertently unleashed, and dial things back. Not just for my sake, but for Nick's as well. He might think that this was all fun and games now, but he wasn't thinking about what it could lead to and the emotional damage messing around with his own mother was sure to cause.
I didn't want to shut it all off entirely, but I clearly needed to make sure things proceeded in a more controlled manner. Nothing bad had happened yet, and I had to make sure it stayed that way. I went a little farther than I should have with Nick, so it was merely a matter of insuring that we both understood where the boundaries were and being certain that we stayed within the limits.
When I got home from the store I got started on the laundry. Upstairs, I sifted through the hamper in my bedroom, tossing most of the smelly contents into a basket, then went to Timmy's room. I had to gather the majority of his dirty clothes from the floor (there was nothing in his hamper except for a remote control dune buggy and a single sock). I decided that his pillow cases and bed sheets could use a wash as well. When I picked up his pillow, what I found caused me to let out a little yelp of surprise.
There in a crumpled ball were my tiger-stripped panties. What were they doing under Timmy's pillow? Yes, I was so stunned that the obvious answer didn't occur to me until moments later.
I picked them up, and it was instantly apparent that there was dried cum on them. And not just in one spot, it was all over them. I gave them a sniff and the combination of carnal odors was heavy. There was that increasingly familiar scent of jism, but the ripe aroma of my own pussy almost overpowered it. I then realized that these were one of the pairs I'd had to change out of the day before because I'd soaked them through anticipating another jerk off session with Nick.
Timmy must have fished them out of my hamper at some point last night and had apparently whacked off into them at least half a dozen times. That answered the question about whether or not he'd discovered masturbation yet. I just couldn't imagine my little cherub doing such a thing, much less using my panties like this. I sniffed them again, breathing deeply, and found myself getting inappropriately turned on.
I tried to imagine what he had been doing with my underwear. Was he just looking at them? Maybe rubbing his penis on them? Obviously he was cumming on them, but was that all? I undid my pants and began rubbing my pussy through the panties I was wearing. The idea that my innocent baby boy had sneaked into my bedroom and prowled through my dirty things should have been upsetting, but instead it was getting me excited. How long had he been doing this without me knowing?
I imagined him hiding my soiled undies beneath his shirt like a guilty treasure and hurrying back to his room hoping not to get caught. As soon as he closed his door he probably got his stiff prick out and rubbed my dirty panties against it, feeling the satiny material against his sensitive skin. I let out an embarrassed laugh as I stood there in my son's bedroom earnestly working my juicy pussy through the crotch of the white cotton underwear I had on.
My behavior was becoming so irresponsible I had to laugh at myself. My intention was to cool things down and behave myself for one day, but it looked like that plan was out the window. I must have looked ridiculous. A 42-year old woman standing there with her pants down to her knees, sniffing her own dirty panties encrusted with her youngest son's day-old seed, and masturbating like some kind of deranged sex deviant.
"You're a nasty little boy, Timmy," I moaned. "You like jerking off into Mommy's panties? You like cumming on things your mother's pussy has touched? My horny little boy...oh, fuck...fuck, yes...ohhhh, God, yes!"
My legs went wobbly as my orgasm consumed all the energy in my body and converted it into that inexplicably good feeling that bursts brightly for a fleeting moment then fades leaving only traces of the sublime sensation that ebbs slowly into joyful relief.
"What am I doing?" I asked the empty room. Well, if I was losing my mind, at least it felt good.
It looked like I was going to have to have another conversation with one of my boys about his cum rag. This time, I assured myself, that's all it would be: a conversation.
I kicked off my slacks the rest of the way, and pulled down my moistened panties.
But, in the meantime, poor little Timmy might as well enjoy a nice fresh pair of Mommy's pussy-soaked undies. I laid out my damp cotton panties at the head of his bed, then settled his pillow in place over them. I tossed my pants into the laundry basket and carried everything downstairs.
I made it to the basement door before that feeling hit me. I was a bad mother. So very bad. Blatantly leaving a pair of my dirty panties under Timmy's pillow. How could I be playing sexual games like that with my fourteen-year old son? I set the laundry basket down and turned to go upstairs to retrieve the soiled panties from his room. Just as I did, the back door opened and Nick walked in.
His eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open when he saw me frozen there in the kitchen...naked from the waist down.
"Don't look!" I screamed and tried to cover myself.
"Mom, you don't have any pants on!" Nick blurted out.
"I didn't realize how late it was," I said with both my hands clapped over my crotch. I couldn't turn around and get my pants from the laundry basket without exposing my bare ass to him. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not." He closed the door behind him, grinned, dropped his back pack, and walked toward me.
The look in his eye set my nipples to tingling and my clit to pulsing.
I'm such a bad, bad mother...
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