That comment seemed to remind both of them of what had happened earlier and, for the second time that day, Jane watched as her son's ears turned crimson and he slipped into the sanctity of his room. She felt her own face redden at the unacknowledged reference and hurried into the bathroom, trying to forget what she had seen and focus on drawing her bath.
Laying back in the hot water, steam rising around her in wispy, scented tendrils, Jane lazily ran a sponge across her breasts and down her stomach. The warmth of the water against her soft flesh caused a shiver of pleasure and her nipples hardened in response to the heat, then sudden coolness.
Her eyes half open, Jane peered down at her body.
"Not bad for a 40 year old,"
Jane thought to herself as she took stock. Her pale breasts were still fairly firm, with only a slight sag to the sides from laying on her back. The dusty pink tips were hard and long, from the difference in temperatures, Jane told herself. The slight roundness to her belly was unseen as she lay back, giving her a clear view to the closely trimmed mound nestled between shapely thighs.
Jane had always either trimmed very close or shaved completely, no matter that she was the only one that saw it. She thought a full bush ugly and not very hygienic and always kept it closely cropped. The heat of the water had caused the fleshy outer folds to swell and turn a deep pink, the blood flow causing a gentle throb to make itself noticed.
Jane ran the bar of soap over her breasts, a soft gasp escaping her lips as the slippery sensation caused her nipples to harden even more, sending a tingle directly to her clit. Lifting her hips, she let the bar slide down her stomach and across the fleshy mound just above the pouting lips, then turning the soap sideways, running it lightly up and down her slit. Her nipples hardened even more and she brought her free hand up to lightly pinch them.
She couldn't help the soft groan and let the soap slip from her hand and into the water. There was no use denying it any longer, she was hot and needed to cum. Telling herself that it was only because it had been so long since she'd been with a man, she allowed herself to replay the scene she had witnessed earlier. One hand pinching her nipples, the other parting the swollen folds to lightly tease her hard clit, Jane closed her eyes and remembered the sight of her son earlier that day.
Paul had grown tall, at least 6' and his body was toned and defined, obviously playing baseball in the summer and hockey in the winter helped. A small patch of dark hair was centered on his otherwise bare chest, a few fine wisps circling small, dark nipples. Unconsciously, Jane licked her lips as her mind's eye traveled down her son's hard, young body. His flat stomach wasn't quite a six-pack, but it was taut and hairless, except for a faint trail below his belly button that drew the eyes to a thicker patch.
Both hands were busy stroking and teasing her wet slit as Jane pictured the thick meat her son had been fisting. She already knew he was cut, hell she was the one that had insisted upon it. However, the last time she had viewed her son naked, had been about 10 years ago. He had definitely grown since then. He wasn't very long, perhaps 6 inches, maybe a bit more, but the girth was what had impressed Jane. She doubted she'd be able to close her hand around him, then wondered how he'd feel inside her. It had been so long…
Her clit throbbed with the thought and she groaned again, lightly pinching it before sliding two fingers into her aching cunt. The image in her mind was no longer her son, just a male. To be quite honest, at this point in time, the image wasn't even a male to Jane – just a nice thick, juicy cock. Lost in her fantasy, she plunged her fingers in and out of her hot pussy as the other hand rubbed her clit. She could see the hand stroking the shaft, the head a deep red colour. Faster and faster the anonymous hand moved and faster and faster her own hand went.
Suddenly, her back arced and her hips thrust against her fingers in a sharp series of jerky grinds as she felt her needy cunt spasm around the digits filling it. In her mind she could see the hot piece of meat shoot jet after jet of creamy cum, the sight making her ache to taste it, feel it. A whisper in her mind was what sent her over the edge –
"Oh, Mom! I'm cumming for you…."
A horn blared and caused Jane to blink and shake her head. Waving apologetically at the driver behind her, she hit the gas and continued through the intersection, wondering when the light had actually turned green.
She squeezed her thighs together, hoping to relieve some pressure on her aching clit, wondering what had made her think of that time when Paul was a teenager. It had been fantasy only, albeit she had been a bit ashamed once she came down from her orgasm. However, remembering that time had caused her to become extremely aroused and she knew she'd have to get off when she got home. At least she'd have lots of time before Paul got home from his job.
To be continued…
