A Depraved Viewing

Hello reader.

Just trying out a short story, here.

I have an idea in mind for a second part, so depending on how this is received I may just write it :)

Hope you enjoy!

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There are some things a mother is never meant to see. One fateful Friday, I saw one such thing that easily falls into this category.

On this particular Friday I was meant to work a late shift at the office, but an hour into my overtime I had had enough. I needed to escape, so I shut off my computer and got the hell out of dodge. The few remaining accounts I had to appraise could wait until Monday.

I felt a sense of relief when I stepped outside into the cool early evening air. The sun was just setting on a fine summers day. I just wanted to get home, pour a glass of wine and get into bed.

It's rare that I would be so keen to get home. At the age of forty-seven I was single, having divorced my childhood sweetheart a year and a half ago. My job was a welcome distraction from the constant loneliness I felt. It was also a distraction from my raging horniness. It was year and half since my divorce, but it was almost two years since I had had sex. The final six months of my marriage involved no nudity, never mind any physicality!

A frequent masturbator I may have been, I still longed for the touch of a companion. Hell, I longed to gaze at a naked cock and balls in the flesh! All I wanted was to see a nice long one. Not too much to ask, I felt.

The drive home only took me around twenty minutes. I pulled into the drive and noticed that no lights were on. I was sure that my son, Simon, was meant to be home. Even at the age of twenty he still deemed it necessary to let me know if he was going out or not.

'Perhaps he had forgotten to tell me?' I thought. 'No, that's not like him.' Perhaps he had gone to bed? I looked at the clock on my dashboard: it was only 8:32. My son was not an early bird. I'd lost count of the number of times I'd be getting up of a Sunday morning and he was just going to bed!

It was dark inside the house. All the downstairs lights were off. "Si?" I called out. No reply. I slipped off my heels and hung my coat up on a hook next to the front door. All I could hear was silence; such a large house could be eerie when it is was so quiet. I headed down the opposite end of the hallway to the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs I saw my first sign of life: a dim glow was lighting the upstairs landing. "Si?" I asked again, and again no reply came.

By now I was becoming somewhat concerned. A faint glow from upstairs but no sign of my son. I reached the top of the stairs and the source of the glow became clear, it was coming from the far end of the landing from Si's room. 'Oh, he must have popped to the shop and left his TV on.' I thought. A small twenty-four hour supermarket was just down the street from our house, a ten minute walk at best. Si must have nipped out to pick something up.

My mind now at ease I headed for my bedroom, it was the door just the other side of Si's room. I was itching to get out of my work clothes and into bed. As I approached my door, I thought I'd poke my head in just to confirm Si had left his TV on, so I could then later scold him for wasting electric...

A cold sweat washed over me. My stomach dropped. 'Oh, God.' Si had not gone to the shop just down the street. He had not left his TV on. The glow was coming from his laptop, that was placed at the foot of his bed. The bright glow from it lit him up. He was on his bed, large headphones covering his ears. He was naked. My son was full frontal nude. And he was masturbating. My baby boy was slowly and rhythmically pleasuring himself.

I was frozen to the spot, like a rabbit in the headlights; my mouth agape. The head of his bed was positioned right next to his bedroom door, so he could not have seen me, but I could see him. All of him.

I should have looked straight ahead and gone straight to my room. I didn't, though. I just stood there. I stood there and watched.

I knew that I shouldn't have been watching. I knew right away, but I didn't move, I couldn't! All I could do was stare. I had been hypnotised by his slow up and down rolling motion. This was wrong, that was plainly obvious. How could it not be wrong? A mother is never meant to witness her child during such a private and intimate moment, but here I was, seeing what was never meant to be seen. My eyes crept along his body, along his toned torso and down his long and muscular splayed legs. I had stumbled upon something forbidden, something taboo.

Soon my thoughts and focus were purely on my son's hand and the long taut shaft it was pleasuring. 'My god, he's got a big cock.' The thought just popped in there, out of nowhere. Interestingly, I didn't use the word penis, no I used the word cock. An undeniably sexual word. I had described my son's genitalia in a sexual manner. And I had an opinion on its size. A mother should not have an opinion on the size of her son's penis.

But I did. In no way should I have been but I was even impressed with what he had. It was comfortably more than a handful. When he gripped it at the base, a good inch between the top of his hand and below his helmet was still visible. And it was thick, too; it bulged outwards. It's horrendous but I was internally applauding the length and girth of my son's cock.

I hadn't seen a penis in so long. The last one I'd seen was that of my now ex-husband. I'd been yearning to gaze upon a nice long cock for so long. I would never have been able to predict the next one I saw would be that of my son.

I must have been stood outside his door for a good few minutes before I even bothered to take note of what he was watching on his laptop. Obviously it was porn. I quickly deduced that it was a younger man and an older woman and the pair were having rough and sweaty sex. Pretty standard fair.

The colour on the screen would occasionally change and brightly illuminate the room; it was at these moments I could see the bright gleam of my boy's hulking helmet. At first sight, my breathing became a tad laboured.

Despite the rather intense anal sex that was now happening between the older woman and the younger man, my focus remained on my son and his big swollen cock. My eyes were glued to it as his hand ran up and down his shaft. Like a show jumping judge I observed his technique: he didn't furiously beat it, no he took his time; he varied his methods. Every few pumps he would roll his foreskin up over his tip and then pull it all the way back down on descent. He would squeeze and twist it at the base. He would pinch his tip and gently rub his thumb over his third eye; a low moan would escape his lips when he did that. Sick and disgusting as it was I had become engrossed in my critique of my son's pleasure session.

So engrossed that I had not noticed my nipples were straining against my blouse. 'What is wrong with you?' I scolded myself, in some desperate last gasp attempt to get myself moving, but it was futile, I continued to watch my only son wank. I felt as though my rational self had now been consumed by some primal self, and that I saw this not as my son, but as a piece of meat to be enjoyed. Almost involuntarily I unbuttoned my blouse. I felt like I needed air on my skin. I felt hot.

I could soon hear a gentle squelching sound. He was leaking pre-cum. His slow and methodical pace was bringing him close to climax. My breathing had intensified. 'Oh, Lord.' The tingle in my knickers was unmistakeable. Si continued to pump away and I still stood and stared, like the awful mother I am.

The porn continued playing; the older woman was now devouring the younger man's big, juicy cock. I watched her enviously. I wanted to be in her shoes, I wanted that juicy meat in my mouth. I looked back to Si's throbbing cock. 'Fuck, I want that in my mouth!' I couldn't believe the thought crossed my mind, but it did, and it lingered. I wanted to take my son's big, swollen tool in my mouth and pleasure him. In moments of heat like this I think we just regress to animals, and bonds such as parenthood cease to matter. At least that's what I continue to tell myself.

I felt as though I were perspiring uncontrollably, in my heat I grabbed inside the cups of my bra and pulled downwards, my ample tits spilled out. The cool night air soothed my aching nipples. What a mess I had become.

Si continued to work his length up and down, up and down. I continued to imagine him inside my mouth, poking my tonsils. The tingle in my knickers had been replaced with the feeling of my underwear now glued to my slick vagina. I was wet. I was wet watching my baby boy masturbate. I desperately wanted to scream. I desperately wanted to shove my hand into my panties and frig myself into oblivion.

He started to grunt more frequently. I could sense the end was near for him. By now I was so hot I wanted to see what he would produce. I wanted to see an avalanche of cream gush from him. I grasped at my nipples and pulled on them. I let out a small gasp and bit my lip before my gasps became too loud.

The light from the laptop illuminated him once again, his head was now swollen massively, it was bright purple. The veins of his shaft bulged. His balls looked so tight they could have easily fit in my mouth. Jesus, all I wanted was to swallow his balls and work his shaft. I wiped sweat from my brow; I'd not been this heated in years, my pussy was throbbing. It was wrong, so so wrong, but it felt so so good, and so so naughty.

More pants and groans came from my son; he was edging closer and closer. I twisted my nipples and bit my lip so hard I could soon after taste the sour metallic taste of blood. This was torture. Si began pumping faster. 'Go on, baby.' I egged him on. I wanted to see it, I wanted to see this through. Faster still he went. The faster he went the more sodden my knickers felt like they became.

Suddenly, his legs thrust out and his heels dug sharply into his mattress, pushing him upwards. A loud and guttural grunt burst from deep down inside him and my boy erupted. I had never seen so much semen emerge from a penis before, it was like a volcano, thick white ropes of magma jetting from the tip of his cock. Wave upon wave spewed out of him, crashing onto his torso, his thighs, his bed, everywhere. I was panting and licking my lips at the rivers of cream he produced. I wanted to have it splash onto my face, onto my tits and over my cunt and ass. I wanted to fall onto my knees and lick it all up. My God, I had never felt so depraved.

He gently squeezed out a few final drops and his body relaxed; he crashed back down to his mattress and let his cock flop onto his belly. My pussy was a mess, my whole body was. I needed a release, I needed to let this caged animal inside me out.

Si exhaled loudly. It snapped me into life; he could have turned around at any moment, he clearly needed to clean himself up, so I had to get to my room without alerting him. As quietly and as softly as I could, I made the few remaining steps to my bedroom door and, as quietly and softly as could, opened the door to my room and snuck inside.

Relieved that I had safely made it to the sanctuary of my bedroom, I slunk my blouse off my shoulders and onto the floor, unclasped my bra and let it fall and eagerly yanked down my work trousers and my absolutely soaking wet knickers.

I flopped onto my bed, threw my legs up in the air and I fingered myself silly! I didn't tease myself, I blasted my clit. And all I could think about was my baby boy's big stiff rod. I wanted it in my mouth, in my pussy and in my goddamn ass! I wanted that huge eruption of cum to engulf me. I wanted to writhe in it!

I pressed on, my hand now a blur in-between my thighs. I needed to cum, I needed to squirt my own juices all over my sheets. I needed relief.

It didn't take long.