For some reason the next morning I woke up particularly horny. I always thought that when I started to have a regular sex life (or rather sexual relief in this case) my hormone level would subside and that I wasn't going to think about sex all the time. Now I was starting to realize that the contrary was the case. The more and better the sexual encounters were getting between me and my mom, the more I thought about them and the hornier I was – almost all the time.
As it was Saturday I didn't bother to get dressed so I walked into our kitchen to have some breakfast clad only in a t-shirt and my boxer shorts. Mother was already there, wearing a nightie and a robe while making coffee.
"Good morning sweetie!" she greeted me. "Sleep well?"
"Like a baby, mom!" was my instant reply.
We had breakfast as usual, chatting about the weather, plans for the summer, etc, a typical conversation between mother and son. But that was only on the surface. While I was watching her, sitting on the chair, getting up to fetch something from the fridge, crossing her legs or tucking them under the chair, her robe opening revealing the flimsy nightie she wore, my arousal kept growing until it reached the point where it actually hurt. However our little daily get together in the bathroom lay hours ahead. It seemed that I urgently had to find relief on my own.
Once I was finished, I stood up and carried my plate to the sink. As I passed in front of the table on my way upstairs to the privacy of my room where I could replay my fantasies, I saw that the tent in my shorts had caught my mother's attention. She must have hesitated at first because she didn't call to me until I was in the middle of the stairs.
"Simon, wait, I want to ask you something!" she called and walked into the living room.
I turned around, my hard-on out in the open as embarassment was a thing of the past.
"Yes mom, what is it?"
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Eeeh... in my room, upstairs." I answered.
"What are you going to do there?"
Normally my initial reaction would be to lie, to make something up, like "going to get dressed", or "lie down", "read a book" or the even less believable "do my homework". But my intentions as I was standing in front of my mother with my stiff cock in my shorts pointing at her, were so self-evident that I thought it was pointless to lie. Of course I wasn't going to say the truth – I wasn't so bold yet – but I kind of hoped she would understand without having to spell it out for her.
Thankfully she did it for me.
"Are you going up there to jerk-off?"
I was shocked with her boldness but compared with what I experienced the last few weeks, it was a mild shock.
"Well, I guess so ... I mean, probably yes." I replied. "Is that OK?"
"Of course it is OK, I am the one who told you that this is the most natural thing in the world. It's just that, you know, I thought you had realized by now that you don't have to do it secretly any more. I mean unless you want to." she said and I could swear she was blushing, something I had never seen her doing.
"What don't you come down here and show me how you do it, sitting comfortably for once and taking your time?" she asked sheepishly. "Maybe I could give you a tip or two."
How can I say no to that? My legs started moving towards the couch in the living room. This numbing sensation I had every time in the bathroom overwhelmed me again. I sat on the couch with my mother in the armchair opposite from me. Slowly, she crossed her legs showing off her perfect little toes, nails painted red and lit a cigarette. Once she exhaled (My God, she did that sexually as well!) she motioned at me.
"Come on, what are you waiting for?"
I took off my shirt in a rapid motion and then hesitantly, I hooked my thumbs in my shorts and started lowering them. All the time I kept looking at her in the eyes, waiting for her to call it off and send me upstairs with a scolding. But then I took my boxer shorts completely off and suddenly I was naked in front of her.
I put my feet up on the couch and opened them a little bit. My penis stood prominently before her, arisen to full mast. I lowered my right hand but resisting the urge I felt I didn't grab it and started beating away. Instead I started caressing the rigid shaft with my one hand, while cupping and caressing my balls with the other. Of course all the while gazing at her.
