As I pulled in to the driveway, I was already hard, because I knew what I was going to do when I got in, to where I lived with my mother. She was working, and would be working for another couple of hours, at least. She never came home before five o'clock, no matter what, so if I put away all her silkies by four-thirty, well, you see what I mean. It may have started with her panties, and her panties, my mother's panties, were always the sexiest, the most beautiful, but she also had pretty silk bras, which felt so empty against my eighteen year-old chest, and made me wish I was beautiful like my mother, and had big beautiful breasts, like she did. She really filled out her bras, but on me they were flat panels of silk. She also wore thick satiny slips, which came down to my knees. They were all on spaghetti straps, and all with lace trimming on the hems. I also discovered something of a secret about my mother. She didn't wear pantyhose like other professional women did. She went out of her way to wear stockings, with garter belts. Every day, at this time, I would have a secret sexual adventure, and dress up in my mother's silkies. First I would put on the pair of panties that looked best to me, then the silk stockings, then the garter belt, trying to hook the stockings with the light touch of a woman. Then the silk bra, hooking it very daintily in the front--as she only wore bras that hooked in the front--and then finally reaching my arms up in the air, and letting her satiny slip fall down my arms, and down my body, until the spaghetti straps fell against my shoulder, the lace of the hem rubbing against my knees, and the satin rubbing against my rock-hard erection. Those were such special times that I spent with my mother's underwear. I had no idea that they were about to lead to something more than I expected. Something I didn't even know I wanted.
Being eighteen, I was taller than my mother. She was about five foot two. I was thinner than she was. Her panties never fit me as well as they must have fit her. On me they were a little tight in places, and a little loose in other places. I knew that on her they hugged every curve of her beautiful bottom, and the soft, secret place between her legs.
My mother was the center of my masturbatory fantasies. It was always the same thing. I would be dressed up in all her silkies, lying on her bed, and suddenly I would realize that I had fallen asleep. I would wake up, and there would be my mother, standing beside me. The fantasy varied from there. Sometimes she sucked me, and I came in her mouth, or sometimes I fucked her in the pussy, or the ass. I guess you had to know her back then. She had medium-brown, permed hair, that was always wet in the morning. She had very large breasts, which looked especially large on such a small woman. She was in her early forties by this time. Her waist was slim, and I had caught glimpses before of her belly, which was trim and smooth. Her bottom was ample, but it was a full bottom, not fatty in any way. Her legs were soft, not muscular, but shapely. I saw her in bathing suits on occasion, even though she always wore one-pieces, so I saw how her legs looked when they were exposed. She had brown eyes that always looked moist, and full lips, that were usually covered with lipstick. When I would masturbate, dressed in her silkies, and my thoughts turned to oral, I would always imagine that as she pumped my cock with her mouth, she would leave smears of lipstick behind on the hard shaft.
As I mentioned, I had just gotten home, and knew exactly what lay ahead ... or at least I was certain that I did. I went straight into my mother's room, and stood in front of her large oak dresser, which was next to the door. I closed my eyes, in the silence, and thought about what was soon going to be touching my body. Then I undid my pants, my eyes still closed, and dropped them to my ankles. I took off my shoes and socks, and put them in a pile, over which my pants went. I had a very hard erection at this point, but I couldn't stand the fact that I was wearing men's cotton underwear, so I quickly took it off my body. My shirt came next, and then my undershirt. I was naked, and my cock was rock hard. I knew exactly which drawer was my mother's panty drawer. I had always known that. I opened it up, and began to lightly touch the folded panties with my fingertips.
I suddenly had the most intense impression that someone was staring at me. I turned my head, and I saw probably the most shocking thing I had ever seen. My mother was lying on top of her bed, in her business suit, clearly just woken from a nap, and was staring at me. She wasn't smiling, but I could tell by her face that she was not displeased. She yawned, and then said in a sleepy, sweet, quiet voice, "Keep going."
I just stood where I was, mortified. I must not have understood her, or known her intentions. She had to repeat herself. "Keep going." I still didn't move. She sighed, and then said, in her delicate, soft voice, while still lying on her side, "I knew right away when you started wearing my things, honey. You were stretching out my stockings, and folding my panties and slips backwards, and really, honey, you have no idea how to correctly fold a bra. Give your mother a little ..." She yawned. "... a little credit." I was staring into her warm, brown eyes, and she was looking right at me, and talking about ... I couldn't believe what was happening to me. My cock was so hard that it was hurting me. I had to double over a bit, it was straining so hard. She repeated for a third time, "Keep going. I want to see what you do every day with my undies."
I just couldn't move. She stared at me for a while, the whole time my cock getting harder, not softer ... so I was really starting to hurt. I had never felt this intense erotic sensation before. She sat up on the edge of the bed, stretching her arms, and yawning. "Okay," she said softly, "I think maybe this is a bit too much for you." She got off the bed and stood in front of me. She reached out a hand and lightly brushed one of my cheeks. It was the most intimate thing she had ever done to me. It sent an incredible thrill through my naked body. "I'll have to help you," she said quietly, and began to shuffle through the panties that were organized in her still-open panty drawer. "Which ones do you like the best, honey?"
I didn't answer. She put her hand on my shoulder and pulled me into her arms. I was so weak, I think I literally fell into her grasp. She held me tight, and through all of this, I stayed very hard. My naked body was pressed against her business suit, my hard cock pushed hard against her left thigh, and I could feel underneath my mouth the milky softness of her large breasts. Just like she always did, whenever she shifted her weight, I could hear silk sliding against silk from inside her suit. She finally stood me up, and said quietly, "Just stand there and let me dress you."
