Somehow managing to keep verbally quiet Peter, upon seeing his mother's naked breasts, responded within an "Awwww, wow!" in his mind. He knew his mom had a rack; he couldn't help but notice. However, this was just the obvious, never viewed through sexually-charged eyes. Now the college student was in awe of Valerie's mammaries. He believed them to be in the 38 inch range, slightly sagging but for the most part still very full. Her puffy areolas and upright nipples were now also visible to him, making him think that he had nursed and suckled on these two beautiful tips when he was an infant.
Valerie kneaded her breasts, over and over again. She kneaded...and was in need. Enthusiastically she caressed the pair of shaking globes. She tickled and gently pinched the teats. Her tongue licked her lips as she manually serviced her excited chest. Her hips undulated as the horny parent soared into ecstasy.
"Oh! Yeah! Hmmm. Yeah, feels so good!" she wantonly crooned, before craning her neck forward to allow her tongue to lave the hard nub she was bringing to her mouth. She licked it like a kitten, then kissed the nipple and areola, then returned to licking. Her hands released that breast to cup the other one and repeat the oral steps for adoring the new peak.
Releasing the breast, Valerie yelled, "Oh fuck!" She quickly dropped her hands between her still-spread thighs. Her left hand pulled aside the sopped bikini bottom toward the inner thigh, thus exposing unknowingly to her son her dewy, aching pussy. Her right hand began to work on the fevered sex. Peter in this moment saw his first mature cunt...and the most taboo cunt of all—his mother's. The lips were pinkish and meaty. They were much meatier than his girlfriend's. They were also moist...very moist. Peter repeatedly blinked, seeing the forbidden nectar seeping out of her actual hole unto the lounger. Above the swollen petals was a small patch of black hair—matted from the wetness.
Valerie moaned in decadent delight as the flats of her fingers caressed her pussy. "Ahhhhhhh!"
After some vigorous rubbing, she repeated what she did earlier: bringing her hand to her face, inhale her own scent—this time quicker than previously—and lick her juices off her hand, also faster. With the bikini panties pushed into her inner thigh, she tasted the one hand's sticky reward while the other hand was busy tending to the vibrant twat. Then the tending hand went to the mouth while the previous one returned to the pubic region. All ten fingers caressed and spread. Both palms massaged. Secretion was savored. Valerie's vagina was in erotic delight, leaking out further sap, while her whole being soared to the heights of arousal.
"Uggghhhhh!" the busty mother groaned as she did another repeat. Using the same middle finger, she once again finger-fucked herself, this time in plain sight of her son.
At the moment Valerie started to pump her finger in and out of her open pussy—quicker and needier than before, Peter also began his own pump. Throughout this entire illicit masturbatory scene provided by his mom, he never touched himself. He was now harder than titanium. When his mother's bent finger began to frig rapidly in and out of her juicy cunt, he began to cum in his pants. His eyes, big as saucers, looked down at his tented jeans and couldn't believe he was ejaculating into his underwear without having touched himself.
"Ahhhhh, yesssss!!!!" Valerie whorishly wailed, her MILFish shape bouncing up and down as her inserted finger was accomplishing its mission: bringing her to her orgasm. Unbeknownst to her this was occurring at the same time her son was also climaxing, thanks to her.
Peter wanted to verbally announce, like his mother, the arrival of his climax. But he literally bit his lip, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the unique experience of releasing his semen into his underwear.
"Yes! Yes! Oh, FUCKING Yesssss!" howled the orgasming stunner. It made Peter open his eyes and view once again his hot, horny and nearly naked mother pump her finger in and out of her spasming, teeming pussy while her luscious hips rolled like ocean waves and her huge knockers danced about.
When it was all over for her, Valerie laid down in the lounger, clutching the arm rests for support as her breathing and vitals returned to normal. So were Peter's. He had just finished ejaculating the last of his hot load into his Calvin Klein's, and knew the show was over. He needed to extricate himself from the area immediately and quietly. He tip-toed backward, occasionally looking over his shoulder to ensure he didn't bump into anything. He reached the front door, carefully turned the handle to open the door, then slammed it shut.
"Anyone home?!"
A smile returned to his face as he heard the lounger scrape against the deck pavement. He could picture his mom hurriedly moving to fix herself. The scrape was followed by a second or two of silence, and then a worried-sounding response.
"Hi, Petey! I, I thought you were going out with Amy."
Standing in place, he yelled back, "She got called to work. I didn't see her text. I am going upstairs to check my email and then hit the pool." He figured to give her some time to gather herself together.
"Sounds good." There was relief in the tone of her voice.
Peter scampered up the steps, his now-deflated penis swaying in his collected muck. Before he entered his room, he retrieved from the bathroom an immense roll of toilet paper from the dispenser. He closed his bedroom door and laughed to himself. He started masturbating when he was 15 and during those six years never came inside his underwear. He took off his jeans and then seemed to marvel at the load in his CK's. He doubted he ever came that much with his current girl or the previous one. He stripped off the ruined jockeys, threw them in the garbage-bagged waste basket, cleaned his cock and balls with the toilet paper, and then threw the toilet paper into the basket. He replaced the trash bag with a new one and threw the now-knotted previous bag into his closet.
Good thing I have an early class tomorrow
he bemused to himself.
These will come with me and get thrown in the campus dumpster.
As he donned his swim trunks, he heard the bathroom door open and close. The sound of the shower soon followed. He knew his mother was in there. Peter left his room, passing by the bathroom with a wicked grin. When he got to the deck, he saw the lounger she had been on. He looked around to make sure no one could see him, even though the deck was private and the bathroom window faced the other side. He bent forward to inspect the lounger. There was no visual evidence of the maternal orgasm, but his nostrils twitched. He inhaled. The devilish grin reappeared. He was about to lick the seat but a pang of guilt hit him. He straightened up and headed for the edge of the pool. He felt very guilty for watching his mother play with herself, for sniffing the lounger and almost taste-testing it. Before he dove in, he recognized that he and his mother had something in common, his guilt not withstanding. They both loved the smell of her excited cunt.
The memory of that afternoon was burned into Peter's memory like a copied CD. The guilt came and went over the next few days. When it was present, its severity ranged. But other, new feelings and thoughts were being born. They centered around two topics: his mother, and his parents' marriage. He had to come with grips that he no longer saw his mother, figuratively and literally, the same again. She was still 'mom,' but her inherent womanliness and attractiveness were made evident. Her womanliness, attractiveness—and sexuality—became a thought process and an awareness of Peter's. Valerie could be standing before him in a parka, wool cap, scarf and mittens—he now knew what was under all that clothing. He never considered before or wanted to know what his mother looked like without clothes. Now? While he felt incredible guilt, he also felt a little curiosity, a little...want, to see her nude form again.
But this was mom.
But she's hot, and obviously horny. It bothered him...yet enticed him, ever so slightly.
In terms of his parents' marital relationship, Peter knew there was a big problem. His father was preoccupied with other things, putting his devoted spouse in second—sometimes third—place. This was obvious in "routine" things like forgetting her birthday (but remembering Happy Hour after work on Fridays). However, after seeing his mother pleasure herself while wishing her husband was doing the pleasuring, Peter deemed his parents' marriage was really in trouble. He couldn't be 100% sure but he didn't think either of them was cheating, though it seemed that eventually, because of being ignored on all fronts especially the sexual one, she would be the first to cheat.
The son quickly concluded that his father was a major dick for what he was doing to Valerie. He felt that way before that fateful afternoon. He felt even more so after it. Peter only had two girlfriends in his life: the current and previous one. The previous one had dumped him, after he spent his teens with a low self-image when it came to women. So he couldn't fathom his father. The man was married to a woman who looked so much like the
Striptease
actress, at the time of the film, and he preferred spending time and money on his barfly buddies?! Now that he saw his mother virtually naked and obviously sexually neglected, he was absolutely dumbfounded with his dad.
A little over a week after Peter spied on his mother's pornographic performance and he was mentally drifting off in business class, a decisive thought came to mind.
