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"Fuck my face," she whispered hoarsely.
She knew he was there. She had come to expect it, indeed she felt a thrill of anticipation whenever she went to shower. She faced the door as she dried herself giving him a full frontal view. She lifted and caressed her smallish, but plump, breasts as she dried them. They were grapefruit sized with large dark areoles and plump nipples. The nipples were firm and erect now indicating her arousal as did the juiciness of her pussy.

She wondered if he was more attracted to her tits or the full bush that capped her bare pussy, the wild thatch of hair she deliberately displayed to his spying eye. She carried things a little further today. She put one foot up on the toilet seat, to better display her twat, as she passed the towel over her thighs. Her labia were puffy with desire as she put on a show for him. A show he didn't know was deliberate on her part.

In the beginning it had bothered her, the fact that her son was peeking at her. Anger at first, but for some reason she didn't confront him; Nor did she try to prevent his peeking by plugging the keyhole. She soon found herself enmeshed in an attempt at understanding. She made excuses for him, telling herself that it was part of a young man's curiosity, but he was twenty years old. Still she made no effort to stop his activities.

She had come to accept his peeking, gingerly at first. A suppressed streak of exhibitionism soon revealed itself. She found herself deliberately displaying herself, even posing, for him. That in turn led to desires she was having more and more trouble controlling.

Why won't you do something besides peek? She sent him a silent message. Don't you know you can have me? That you only have to take me?

She often wondered why he had so few dates. He was no Adonis, but not all that bad looking either. He had a good body, slim; but just a little soft. An image was in her mind. A vision of them having sex. He was on top, her arms held him close. Her legs clasped him.

Her pussy felt empty, needy. It had been so long, so many years. She had not had a man since her husband, his father, died. She had not wanted to give him a bad impression of herself as he was growing up. He was adult now, a man.

There was only the two of them, alone in the house. It had been that way since Jack had died. Jack, her husband. She had decided she would bring up her son to respect her, and his memory. She forswore sex until he was an adult. At first she wouldn't even masturbate, but later her needs drove her to do so. She bought a vibrator after a couple of years and eventually a couple more.

He masturbated, she knew that. She did the laundry after all. And he had snooped in her room. She wasn't quite so sure of that, but a few times some of the drawers seemed to be different than how she had left them. Sometimes a pair of her panties came up missing too. They always showed up again a couple of days later. Occasionally with traces of his cum crusted in them.

She finished drying herself and reached for her robe. She heard the slight rustle as he left the keyhole to scurry back to his room.

Why should I want him? She wondered. After all wasn't peeking at your mother a perversion? But it was just that idea that thrilled her. Was she perverted herself?

She would have to do something soon, she could hardly bear the empty feeling in her twat. Her vibrators were only a temporary fix. She needed a cock. A warm, hard cock and a body. But only his body, she had no desire for any other man.

She often felt like he was there, thrusting his hard cock deep into her wet pussy. It was only a dream. The hard cock only the shaft of a vibrator. Even so those times she fantasized about him were some of her more satisfying masturbation sessions.

She went to the kitchen for her coffee. He would take his turn in the shower. She wondered if she should go peek, like he did. She had, a few times. The results had been only so-so. She was almost sure he had masturbated behind the shower curtain. When he was drying himself he had been facing the keyhole, but his cock was flaccid, not the hard shaft she wanted to see. A hard shaft ready to enter her, to fuck her.

He came down for breakfast, ready for school. He was in his second year at a local college. He was studying engineering and doing well. Her husband had left them comfortably well off, as long as they were careful with expenses. They could not afford a school away from home.

He finished his breakfast, kissed his mother on the cheek and left for his classes.


It was that very day that she found one of the magazines he had hidden away.

It was under the pillow of his bed. The bed that he always made himself, to save his mother work, he said. Still in her bathrobe she had been using the dust mop under the bed. She had accidently disarranged the bedding. While remaking the bed she found the magazine. The magazine and a pair of panties she had worn the day before.

'Chubby Mommies' was the title of the magazine. She sat on the edge of the bed and began to leaf through it. Her fingers were soon at her pussy, at her clit; massaging it, masturbating.

The magazine was filled with picture of young men with older, overweight, scantily clad women. The pictures were lurid. Short narratives accompanied them making it plain that she was looking at mother and son incest.

There were pictures of young men with their hard cock at their mother's pussy; hard and poised to slide into her wet cunt. There were pictures of sons with their cock fully embedded in their mothers' hot pussy. There were pictures of sons eating their mothers' pussies. More pictures of chubby mommies sucking their sons' cock. Sons and mothers naked next to each other both masturbating, or masturbating each other. Sons pushing big vibrators into their mother's cunts. There were even a few of anal sex, but she skipped over them. She didn't think she wanted to do it that way.

The pictures of sons eating their mothers' pussies intrigued her. More than intrigued her, excitement enveloped her. The pictures of mothers sucking their son's cocks were just as stimulating. She felt a need, a need to take a hard shaft into her mouth. These were things she had never done. The idea of them, if her husband had suggested such, would have disturbed her; maybe even caused a feeling of disgust.

My thoughts about sex have changed, she thought. Changed radically. Maybe because of my years satisfying myself. Or maybe because of the displays I've been putting on for him and the desire that has aroused in me.

On another page she found pictures of Mommy and Auntie. The two women were eating each other's pussies as the son watched and stroked his hard cock. In another picture they were in a circle each sucking and licking one of the others. Or still others where the son was fucking one of the ladies while she ate the other woman's cunt. There were more pictures in the same vein on the next couple of pages. She felt a strange thrill as she looked at the pictures of women with women, or threesomes with the son included. Once again something she never considered for herself gave her an unexpected thrill.

Maybe someday, an unbidden thought crossed her mind.

She thought about what she could do.

She took the magazine with her to her own bedroom. She dropped her robe and examined herself in front of her full length mirror. Yes, she fit the pattern. Somewhat overweight, a little soft and flabby, the beginnings of a roll at her belly, a sagging ass. Her tits sagged too, but not much. They were not overly large and she had always worn a bra, even around the house. Her thighs were pudgy and soft. Any other time she would have sworn to get in shape, not this time.

She had an idea, a plan was developing. If it worked it would bring things to a head.

She would confront him. Make him confess. Make him tell her why he peeked at her, at her naked body. Tell her why he took her panties. To sniff and lick them? To taste her juices, her cum? To jerk off in them? To wear them? No longer would she wait for him to take her. She would take control.

In her fantasies she saw him admitting his love for her, his desire to make love with her. She felt herself getting wet from her thoughts. She laid on the bed and got her favorite vibrator from the drawer. She sucked it to feel it in her mouth, to try to imagine how a real cock would feel. It was a new thought for her. She didn't understand why the pictures of mommies sucking their son's cocks should suddenly arouse her.

I don't need to understand, she thought. I never even thought of it before, but seeing those pictures made me realize that I may have missed something with his father.

She had heard of oral sex, it was impossible not to, but it had never appealed to her very much. Not until she saw a picture of a mother, a 'chubby mommy', sucking her son's cock.

And, yes, the idea of a son eating his mother's pussy. Her juices flowed as she thought of him between her legs licking and sucking at her hot, wet cunt.

She fingered her pussy as she sucked at her toy. She was so wet. The vibrator slid easily into her cunt, sliding on the slick film of her juices. It was easy to imagine it as a hard cock; his hard cock, her son's.


She returned the magazine to his bed and put everything back as it had been. She dressed and drove to a lingerie store. She bought a couple of pairs of panties. Silky, with lace trim. One pair was red, the other white. She drove home to put her plan in motion.

She put on the white panties she had bought. Virginal white, she thought. Apt in a way, it's been so long I'm almost a virgin again. Except for my toys of course. She giggled at the thought.

She dressed as she normally would except she didn't wear a bra and wore a dress of thin fabric. Her hope was that he would notice her nipples poking her dress.

She tried to act natural with her son that evening. He had a late class and didn't get home until almost dinner time. Her nipples were hard from the friction of the fabric and anticipation. She was pleased to note that they poked through the thin material like little bullets.

She thought she handled things okay. Her pussy was wet all through the meal. That was what she wanted, for her juices to soak her panties. She caught him staring at her breasts he would yank his gaze away whenever he saw she had noticed his looks, but his eyes always returned.

The evening went as usual. He studied in his room, she watched TV. She decided to retire a little earlier than usual. She knocked at his bedroom door. There was a long pause before she heard him call for her to come in. She wondered if he had been watching porn, maybe masturbating.

He was at his computer, the screen showed a lesson on technical writing. She stood behind him to say goodnight. She leaned down to kiss his cheek, just as she always did. She let her breast press against his shoulder before she straightened up and left.

In her room she laid on the bed and pulled her dress up to her waist. She felt the gusset of her panties, it was well soaked, but she planned to make it even wetter and more aromatic.

She pushed the panties down so they were at the top of her thighs, there was plenty of loose fabric to work with. She pushed the gusset into her pussy and used her vibrator to push it deeper. The silky material was like a sheath over the shaft of her toy. She found her g-spot and came with a glorious rush, and came yet again. Her panties were soaked with her musky juices. They were ready for him now. Ready to let him know there was a woman in heat.

She went to the bathroom and dropped the panties in the hamper. She made sure they were easy to spot. Back in the bedroom she changed into her nightgown. She put on the red pair of panties, to start the process with them. She climbed into bed and masturbated through the fabric of the panties. The silky material felt good against her hard clit, just as the other pair had been especially stimulating when they sheathed her vibrator.

She heard him go to the bathroom and return to his room. There was the sound of his door closing. Sounds she would not have paid attention to before, before finding the magazine. She slept, after masturbating again to visions of him.

She woke at her usual time. She rose and went to the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth, to check the hamper. She waited until last to see if the panties were missing, she enjoyed the anticipation.

They were gone. He had taken them. Taken them to his bed to sniff and lick; to sense her arousal. To masturbate to the bouquet of her heat, her juices of lust.

She went to the kitchen for her coffee. She sat at the table drinking it and anticipating the evening when he would come home to a surprise.

She went back upstairs to shower. She felt his presence at the door, at the keyhole. She gave him an extra show again that morning. She dried herself and tossed the towel away. She fondled her beasts and tweaked her nipples. She sat on the toilet seat and opened her legs to his view. She spread her labia with her fingers and let the fingers dance and twirl over her clit. She came as much from the excitement of displaying herself as from fingering herself.

She stood and reached for her robe. She heard the rustlings as he left the keyhole. She put her panties back on then, the red ones. They would get more seasoning during the day. She left her bra off.

She went back to the kitchen and began to get breakfast ready for him. She let her robe gap open just a little, enough to give him a glimpse of the swell of her breasts, just enough to entice. She tried to look normal when he came to the kitchen. He seemed flustered. She smiled, her little display had worked.

She made sure he got a look at the flesh she had left exposed. She tried to act bright and motherly. He tried to keep hidden the boner in his pants. He left for school as soon as he could, but not before she had asked what time he would be home. She knew, but wanted to be sure since the hour varied.

She didn't dress, but stayed in her robe. She got the magazine from his bedroom.

She looked at the magazine checking for pages that might be looked at more than others. She found several. Two were of mom and son fucking. One was missionary position. In the other Mom was on top riding him. Other pages showed the son kneeling between her spread thighs with his head buried in her wild bush. Or of the mommy with his hard cock in her mouth. There were other pictures on those pages. All were of him eating her, or her sucking his cock.

Does he really want that? Would he eat my pussy like the picture shows. The young man and the mother in the picture both look like they're enjoying themselves. He's certainly hard enough and she has a huge smile. This is something I never thought much about, but it's making me hot and juicy. I think I want to try it, both ways.

She masturbated several times to relieve the desire the pictures, and the captions, had aroused in her body. Her mouth now had the same empty feeling her pussy did. She was delighted to feel how wet the gusset of her panties was.

In the afternoon she prepared their dinner. One that could be heated in the microwave and left it in the refrigerator.

About an hour before she expected him home she took the panties off and put them over her vibrator as she had with the first pair. She pushed them deep into her hot, wet cunt to soak up her juices, to cum on them, to make them ready for him.

She put on a robe, her nicest one. The length was mid-calf, quite modest. She closed it up to her neck. She wore no panties, and no bra; but nylons and a garter belt, just like some of the women in the magazine. She took her newly soaked panties and the 'Chubby Mommies' magazine to his bedroom. She lifted his pillow and retrieved the white panties he had taken from the hamper.

She was fascinated at the idea of her son eating her pussy, or of herself sucking his hard cock. What had been something not to be thought of had become something she yearned for. To be sure his cock filling her pussy was still her first goal.

I wonder how big he is? she thought. Enough to fill me I'm sure. Maybe enough to hurt, but that would only be until I adjust. She had an idea about how big he was, she had seen the bulges in his pants on occasion.

She arranged things on his bed. The new red panties, freshly soaked and scented with her juices, on display in the center of the bed. The magazine just above the panties. She had opened it to the pages she had chosen, with pictures of oral sex. She left the older white panties, neatly folded, next to the display. She stood back and looked. It was just as she wanted.

She went back to her room and closed the door. She would await developments. "

She heard him come home. She listened to his footsteps as he came upstairs and walked past her room to his. There was a long silence. She put her ear against the door to hear better. His footsteps came to her door and stopped. Another long silence. A timid knock. She ran back to her chair, she grabbed the pumps she had left handy and slipped them onto her nylon clad feet.

"Come in," she called out.

He entered somewhat timidly. She noticed that his hands were empty.

"Mom," he started to stammer.

She cut him off.

"You've forgotten something," she said sternly. "Go back and get it."

His faced reddened, he turned and left. He was back quickly. The two pair of panties in one hand the magazine in the other.

"Now sit down and tell me everything," she commanded.

"Mom, I'm sorry," he began.

She cut him off. "Never mind the apologies. I just want to know why, the truth."

He sat on the edge of the bed. He laid the magazine and panties next to him.

"Mom, I love you," he stammered.

She wondered how to handle this. She had thought to bring up his spying on her in the bath. Now she thought it might be better not to embarrass him any more than he already was.

"I know you do, My Dear, but please explain."

"Mom, it's been you and I alone together for years. I can only get interested in women who are like you."

She didn't respond, not yet.

"Mom, you're in my thoughts every night. It's you I want to make love to."

She stood and moved to the bed. She stood in front of him.

"Tell me more," she spoke huskily. "Or show me with pictures."

"Mom, do you mean it?"

"Yes, I really do. I need to understand."

"Mom, I want to make love with you," he said again. "I want to be your lover, not just your son."

"Are you sure? Sure that it's what you really want?"

"Yes, Mom."

She reached down for the red panties on the bed next to him. She held them up to his face, dangling them in front of him.

"Show me what you do with my panties."

He hesitated. She grabbed his hand and brought it to join hers holding the panties. He did not resist. She put the panties in his hand and closed his fingers over them. She pushed the hand and the panties into his face.

"Show me," she said again.

He inhaled, shallowly at first, then deeper. She felt rather than saw his tongue lick at the wet gusset. She lowered herself to the bed, next to him. She put her hand on his and together they rubbed the panties over his face. She thrilled as he seemed to accept what she was doing and even opened his mouth to suck he juices from the silky fabric.

"You need to ask forgiveness," she told him. "Kneel and ask for absolution."

She pushed him from the bed, not roughly. Again he made no show of resistance. She felt sorry her him. Sorry for what she was putting him through.

He lowered the panties from his face.

"Please forgive me, Mom."

She lifted her robe and spread her knees wide. Her pussy was on display for him. Her very hot, wet pussy.

"Show me. Show me that you want to make love with me."

He moved between her plump thighs. He was fixated on her bare pussy. On the halo of wild hair that surrounded her puffy labia. He felt her hands on his head urging him closer. He resisted as she drew him closer, he wanted to inhale her scents, her pheromone laden musk.

It was real now, no longer a dream. It was happening. He inhaled her bouquet, musky, ready; she was wet from anticipation. Her labia were slightly parted a sliver of red showed between them. A tantalizing glimpse of her inner pussy.

She brought him closer. He rubbed his face on her wild, untamed pubes. She lifted her legs over his shoulders. His tongue flicked out to lick at the dewy drops of her juices glistening on her labia; puffy with lust, those lips. Her heels pressed on his back, urging him closer.

His tongue slid between the lips to savor her inner heat, to push deep into her, to fuck her with his tongue as his nose pressed her hard clit.

To the clit with his tongue, to lick it, to draw it between his lips, to suck it as she came with wild gasps and pressed her nylon sheathed thighs against his face. Her hands twisted in his hair to hold him close.

He was exulted when she came. Her juices flowed, coating his lips and chin. She pushed his head back. It was time for more, time for her pussy to be filled.

"You can't be my lover with all your clothes on," she told him.

He stood and kicked his shoes off. She untied the sash of her robe as she watched him. The rest of his clothes followed his shoes until he stood nude with his cock hard and erect. It was as she thought. He would fill her, fill her as her empty belly needed.

She rolled onto her back and let her robe fall open. Maybe she was rushing things, but she wanted him. She wanted him inside her, fucking her, so she could be sure. Be sure it would really happen.

Her nylon sheathed legs opened to him, splayed lewdly; inviting him. Her pussy wet and ready, glistening with her juices. She held her arms up to him.

"Come to me, make me yours."

He joined her on the bed. He knelt between her thighs and leaned down to her for their first kiss, the first as lovers. She tasted herself on his lips, on his tongue as it danced with hers. Her hand groped for his cock and guided him into her. He slid into her hot, wet pussy with a sigh of achievement. An echoing sigh came from her. She relished the feel of his rock hard shaft stretching the walls of her vagina. The pain was nothing, the fullness was all.

They kissed again. He sucked at her tits. More kisses, wild, wet, mindless.

Months of desire, of fantasies, had made her ready, she held him as she had in her dreams. Her arms and her nylon clad legs clasped him. She came and came again. So much faster than she remembered from her married life, stronger too. Waves of pleasure tore through her body. She mouthed incoherent wild cries as her lips ground against his.

She felt his warm, slick cum gush into her. His cry of pleasure pleased her. It had been wonderful, wonderful and fulfilling.

They laid together afterward. Kissing often. He was naked, her robe open wide exposing her body for his caresses and kisses.

They retrieved the magazine.

"Show me," she whispered hoarsely. "Show me what you like, what you want."

"Let's show each other," he responded.

They leafed through the pages. He paused at a spread about Danny and his mother Mary Ann. It was mostly about oral. He eating her pussy. She sucking his cock.

"I've never done that," she said softly. "You were the first to do it to me."

"Did you like it?" he asked. "Do you want more?"

"Yes, oh yes."

He pushed her onto her back, she complied willingly. He kissed her hungrily before he moved down to lie between her spread thighs. It was one of his fantasies, one he had masturbated to. He loved the wild, untamed and untrimmed thatch of hair that crowned her pussy. He had often dreamed of rubbing his face in it while his tongue probed and licked at her fragrant pussy. It had all come true now.

His tongue slid into her heat. He licked at the inner lips, at the clit. He tongue fucked her tunnel tasting the cum he had poured into her belly. He sucked at her hard clit. It was big, sucking it was a pleasure. Back into her tunnel tasting again his cum blended with her juices, a savory and exotic blend. She came with a squeal of pleasure. Orgasm followed orgasm, racing through her body. Her hands gripped his hair, holding him close. Her legs clasped him, her pudgy thighs closed against his head. Her nylons rubbed sensuously against the flesh of his shoulders. Her heels drummed on his back. One of her pumps had fallen off, lost somewhere in the bed. The other was still on her foot as it drummed against his spine. Repeated cries of "Don't Stop" urged him on.

She was cumming almost continuously when she could take no more. "Stop now," he heard her say. Her hands pushed weakly at his head.

He lifted his head from her cunt. He moved to lie next to her again. He held her as she recouped her strength.

"My God," she said at last. She repeated herself several times over the next few minutes.

"I never knew, never thought anything could be so wonderful, so fantastic." She told him.

"I'm glad," he responded.

They rested, their sweaty bodies entwined. They inhaled the scents of each other. She hadn't removed her robe. It was open, her body exposed. She had kicked her other shoe off.

They kissed and licked each other. She discovered her juices on his face. She kissed and licked his cheeks, she sucked his tongue and licked her juices from his mouth and face. She had never tasted her pussy before, she found the taste erotic. Erotic enough that she was soon fondling his cock wondering how he would taste.

They looked at the magazine again. There were a couple of pages where the son was wearing his mother's panties while he licked and sucked at her pussy.

"Is that exciting?" She asked him.

"In a way, Mom." She kissed him hard. She didn't know why the idea excited her too.

He was soon hard and ready. They kissed with mouths wide and wet. They fondled each other until she pushed him onto his back, just as he had done to her earlier. She did not mount him though. She slid down his body raining kisses on his bare flesh. Her lips found his cock, her tongue licked and tasted it. Her lips parted and took it. She marveled at herself. At how she had taken it without a shred of disgust, rather a sense of joy. She would please him as he had her.

"Mom," she heard him say. "Turn around, bring me your pussy. We can do it for each other."

She lifted her head from his cock. "Later, this time I want it to be all for you. Taste my panties while I do it." She was finding the idea of him sniffing her panties becoming more exciting.

She took him again and found that she liked the feel of the warm, hard cock filling her mouth. She didn't know much about sucking cocks, but she did what seemed natural. She sucked him, she licked and kissed it, she let her teeth slide along his hardness. She lifted her head enough to watch him rubbing the red panties over his face as his tongue licked at the juices she had soaked them with. The sight excited her so that her sucking increased in vigor. She grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her head. His fingers twisted in her hair as she sucked him.

She thrilled when he cried out and warm slick cum filled her mouth. She savored it, slid her tongue through its creamy goodness. He pulled at her arm. She let him draw her back to where they were face to face. She opened her mouth to show him his cum. She ran her tongue through it salaciously. He pulled her close, brought her face to his for a kiss; open mouthed, his cum flowed between them. She sighed against his open mouth. A sigh of contentment.

They laid together petting and kissing. They were content, yet wanted more. They talked. They spoke of dreams they had about each other. It might have been too soon for that with most couples, but they were special. They had lived together for his whole life, and half of hers. They trusted each other, and their newfound intimacy made it easy for them.

They got up when hunger drove them to. They donned robes and ate the dinner she had prepared earlier. Both ate sparingly. Back in the bedroom she took her robe off, but left her nylons on when he requested it. He told her how he liked them and the feel against his flesh as they made love.

They looked at the magazine again. They found the pages with the threesomes. He paused and looked at his mother.

"Do you think that's hot?" she asked.

"Yes, Mom, most men dream of making love with two women."

"I'm not woman enough for you?" She felt a wetness in her pussy, but didn't say anything more.

"You sure are, Mom," He hugged her tight as an apology.

She kissed him hungrily. "Can you handle two?" She asked saucily.

"With your help I could," he answered in the same playful manner; seeds were being planted.

They made love again. She straddled his face as he licked and sucked at her sweet cunt. Just like one of the pictures in the magazine. She rubbed her pussy over his face spreading her juices over him, scent marking him for her own.

She laid on her back and urged him to straddle her.

"Fuck my face," she whispered hoarsely. It was a term she hadn't known. She had learned it from the caption under one of the pictures. The picture had excited her. She had to try it for herself.

His body loomed over her as she took his cock between her lips. "Fuck me," she mumbled around his hardness.

He pumped her full of his hardness and then of his warm, creamy cum. She held him there after he had cum with her hands on his ass. Held him until he had softened.

They were spent and fell asleep holding each other.

He woke first, the sun was shining through the blinds. He looked over at his mother next to him. He wondered how she would feel about the night before. He needn't have wondered. She sensed his presence as she began to wake. She smiled even before she opened her eyes to see him.

He saw the smile and knew everything was good.

She opened her eyes to see him watching her. She knew her life, and his too, had found new meaning.

Unbidden a thought came to her. Maybe I can find someone to be Auntie. Maybe she should tell him her thoughts. They would look at the magazine again, she could let him know her hidden desires. Those that had shown themselves to her. She could be alert for a suitable woman too. She had many acquaintances. Perhaps one of them would be suitable, and willing. Yes, willing, and eager.

And his panty fetish, there were so many possibilities there. He seemed a bit submissive too. She'd need to think about that. Should she take charge? Was it was what he needed?
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