Chapter 8 - "Do You Have a Favorite Incestuously Erotic Story About Me?"
"Do I have a favorite story about you? Yes, I do," he said without even having to think. "Only, I'm embarrassed to admit it," said Jason removing his hand from his mother's knee, while so wanting to tell her about the brand new story that he had just imagined.
"Go on, tell me, Jason. I'm curious to know, especially after I confessed which one of your stories is my favorite. Tell me which story is your favorite. We're both mature enough and close enough that we can discuss anything and everything, even sex. Don't be embarrassed. We've already openly discussed so much already," she said patting his knee. "Instead of thinking of us as mother and son, think more about us as a man and a woman, Elizabeth and Jason."
When she said, 'instead of thinking of us as a mother and son, think more about us as a man and a woman,' Jason wanted to push his mother down on the bed and mount her, while kissing her. Imagining stripping off her clothes, just once he'd love to know what it would feel like to fuck his mother.
"Well, to be honest, Elizabeth..." said Jason standing on the pretense of stretching.
Nonchalantly, he walked in front of his mother to see if he could see her panties in an up skirt view. Surprisingly, her skirt was short enough, raised up high enough, and her knees were parted open enough that he had a clear view of his mother's inner, shapely, creamy thighs and her bright, white panty. Even when her knees were tightly pressed together, she was a woman with the type of body that, when she sat in a short skirt, there was a triangular opening above her thigh that exposed her panty. Countless times he spied his mother's panties, when she sat wearing a short skirt, Whenever she was sitting in the living room or outside entertaining, he watched the eyes of the other men go directly to her crotch, knowing they were enjoying the same view of his mother's panties that he so enjoyed seeing and that he was enjoying now.
He always wondered if she knew she was flashing her panties. How could she not know? How could she be so oblivious to men's leering looks and stares? How exciting would that be, if she had been flashing them on purpose? How exciting that would be, if she had been flashing him on purpose?
Not wanting her to catch him looking, he stood far enough back that he could see all of her body, along with her big breasts and pretty face, at a glance, and not just her panty. Forcing himself to look away, he made eye contact with his mother, before losing his mind in the impression her pussy mound made in her panty and the impressions her nipples made in her blouse. Only, too late, with his mind running away with his imagination of seeing her naked, she caught him staring at both her panties and nipples. Now keenly aware of her son's antics, she scolded him for looking.
"Jason, you horny Devil," she said closing her knees, pulling down her short skirt, crossing her legs, folding her arms across her breasts, and turning a bright red. "Were you just looking at my panty and the impressions my nipples are making through my blouse and bra? Was Mommy inadvertently flashing you bits and pieces of her body?"
