A fictional story of mother son incest, of voyeurism and exhibitionism.
Everyone is eighteen or older.
*****
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.
