Author's note:- It is my usual practice to compose a complete story in my head before I even touch a keyboard, then I flesh it out as I type. When I was typing out "Ring of truth," an alternative scenario occurred to me. I couldn't make up my mind which one to submit, so I decided on both.
As a result, the lead up to both stories are identical, so bear with me.
The second version is submitted as "Ring of Truth 2 --- Aunt Jess Learns."
I'll leave you to decide which one, if any, you prefer.
*****
Ring of Truth
I was in my room watching some porno after dinner when the phone rang. Mom was in her office downstairs, and had asked me to field all calls, because she needed to concentrate on some tricky corporate law cases she had brought home to work on over the weekend. Hastily pulling my pants up, I bolted down the stairs three at a time, and grabbed the receiver in the living room but it stopped ringing before I could answer.
"Hello, who is this?" Mom's voice coming through the partially open door sounded a bit cross, but then her tone changed. "Oh, hi Jess. Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, but Mark was supposed to be taking the calls so I can get some work done." She gave a dirty giggle. "He is probably in his room spanking the monkey, the filthy swine. You know what sons are like. All hormones and no brains."
She laughed again, and I felt a stab of resentment, partly because of the way she had talked about me to my best friend Wayne's mom, but mostly because she had guessed what I had been doing.
"No, it's OK, I'm glad you rang," she went on. "I needed a break anyway. So what's happening?"
I moved closer to the door, wanting, but not wanting to hear what else she would say about me in the one sided conversation.
"Really? You have to be kidding me? Again? You lucky bitch. That must be what? At least five times this week? If Mark fucked me half as much as you say Wayne fucks you, I'd be over the moon, but I don't think he's interested. It's not for want of trying. Heaven knows I've sort of accidentally let him see my boobs often enough, and when I was doing my yoga the other day, I let my leotard slip so he could see half of my pussy, but even that didn't work. I swear if he ever touches me I'll cum like a waterfall. I'm wet just thinking about it."
I chanced a quick look through the gap in the door. Mom was leaning back in her chair, with her feet braced against the edge of her desk. Her skirt was raised and her rapidly moving hand was pushed into the waistband of her panties, as she spoke breathlessly into the phone. In total shock I fled back to my room, trying desperately to process what I had seen and heard. I couldn't believe what she had said to Aunt Jess -- not really my aunt, but I had known her my whole life, so to me she was Aunt Jess, just as mom was Aunt Hannah to Wayne.
Most of what she had said was pure bullshit, because I had never seen even the tiniest hint of her tits, let alone her pussy. Not that I didn't want to, because I had tried often enough. After all, at five feet seven and a fairly slender forty two years old, with shoulder length auburn hair and green eyes, she was definitely worth more than a casual glance. What I had just seen wasn't bullshit though. Even a blind dog could have seen she was feverishly fingering her pussy, and my cock was standing up like a ship's mast.
Lying on my bed stroking my boner, I thought again about the conversation. Growing up and hanging out together, Wayne and I had often joked about how hot each other's mom was, and no doubt he had fantasised privately, and maybe even jerked off at the thought of seeing mine naked, just as I had about his, but hearing that he had actually fucked his own mom had floored me completely. The whole idea was inconceivable, and even more inconceivable was the fact that she had boasted about it to my mom, even though they had, like Wayne and I, been best friends since childhood.
The strangest thing though, was that I was not nearly as shocked at hearing mom confess that she wished I would fuck her. It was almost as if I had fantasised about it so much and so often, that she had somehow picked up on my thoughts, and felt compelled to admit she wanted it as much as I did. Of course, being mother and son, neither of us felt we could admit our carnal desires to each other, so she had confided in Jess. Perhaps, I told myself, it was meant to be that I was in the right place at the right time, to overhear her conversation.
With the image of her fingering herself still fresh in my mind, my hand flew up and down my cock, until a powerful jet of cum splashed over the front of my tee shirt.
I slept late on Saturday morning, and picking up my cum stained tee shirt, I took it into the laundry and buried it under the clothes in the half filled washing machine. Mom was squatting in the lotus position on the living room floor, and I took a seat on the couch facing her, trying in vain to make out the outline of a cameltoe in her tight leotard. I had no better luck with her nipples, which were flattened by the lycra fabric.
She saw me studying her and smiled. "A penny for your thoughts?"
I shrugged, hoping she hadn't noticed exactly where my eyes were focussed. "Nothing much mom, I was just thinking how nice you look."
She gave a tinkling laugh. "All boys say that about their mothers, even if most times it isn't true. Even Wayne says it about Jess. I must admit though, they are very close."
