All characters engaged in sexual acts are of legal age. 'Ellen' is 39, her son 'Joey' is 18.
*****
Ellen Crosby was proud of her figure, although she was dreading the approach of her 40th birthday. She stood naked in front of her bedroom mirror, drying her hair, giggling as her 36D tits jiggled and swayed. Further down was the very beginnings of a matronly tummy. It never had been flat, but now there was a slight paunch. Still further down was a thatch of dark brown hair which she kept meaning to trim. She wasn't Jungle Woman yet, but she figured it was three weeks since she last trimmed and shaped it. Watching as she did, she ran her fingers through the short bush: Careful Ellen. Any pressure -- mmm, there! -- and it might get interesting!
A noise from the front door broke her solitude -- Joey was home from work and he would pass her open bedroom door any second. She threw her wraparound dress on quickly, without underwear, just in time.
"Hi mum. Nice day?"
"Yes, honey. Had a few drinks after work. Yours?"
"Pretty good. I got good marks for my exams -- only two more years and I'll be a qualified sparky!"
"That's great son! How about Indian takeaway to celebrate?"
And so 90 minutes later, well-fed and content, they retreated to their usual spots -- each had an armchair at 90 degrees from the other with a long couch in the middle. Ellen was feeling very naughty. In her haste to beat the evening rush she'd immediately phoned their order through and she hadn't put underwear on. She had to admit to a slight arousal at her boldness. The voice in her head spoke: Ellen Crosby, are you tingly because you're commando with this fine young man in the room?
Joey really was a fine young man. Tall, athletic, broad shoulders and solid thighs in those tradesman shorts, biceps bulging under his t-shirt.
Jesus girl, yeah you've drunk too much, but he's your son! Quit it!
The dress she wore was cotton, yellow with a floral design, each side overlapping at the front with a waistband tie to keep it in place. Only for her, with tits like that, 'in place' meant constantly worrying about flesh spilling. The garment was designed for her to sit in privacy at her dresser brushing hair or making up, not for on-the-lap dining with a hormonal 19-year-old. Especially her own son. But she had to admit the scenario was quite arousing.
The humidity of the midsummer evening made airconditioning essential, and the combination of cool air fanning her body, the insistent naughty feeling, and the fabric on her bare flesh had an effect. Her nipples stiffened.
Ellen blushed and tried to adjust the wrap, but it was useless. Her blush became a flush, and another problem arose. She felt her body heat rising and inevitably it meant sweat, and that held the danger of damp spots and sticking fabric.
Joey glanced up from the menu he'd been studying for next time they used that takeaway, then immediately looked away. His mother's erect nipples were obvious and she was clearly flushed. She pretended to be engrossed in her phone while she hoped for two things -- one that her son wouldn't notice her arousal, and two that it would go away so she could confidently stand and walk past him to put something appropriate on.
Joey couldn't resist. He looked back. Those nipples drew his gaze then it fell to his mother's legs. The wrap had fallen either side and bare thighs showed almost to her arse cheeks. Nevertheless he marvelled, not for the first time, at the smooth, lightly-tanned thighs, well-defined calves and delicate feet. But the magnet of her tits drew his eyes back. He looked for two or three seconds then suddenly realised she was looking right at him.
His eyes met hers, and she was flushed pink in embarrassment. He tried to stammer an apology.
"It's OK honey. It's my fault. Should have put on a bra in this flimsy thing. You're not freaked out?"
"Oh no mum. Sorry I stared, I just... Well..." He grinned at her and exaggeratedly wiggled his eyebrows and said: "Hubba Hubba! Pretty impressive, mum!"
She laughed with him and it lightened the moment; but the problem remained. She had hard nipples which were quite visible to her son, he knew it, and she still had to get past him to change. She bit her bottom lip: "Honey, look away? I need to change."
Still grinning and loving the power of the situation, he said: "And what if I don't look away?"
He thought she would plead with him, but he was taken aback when his mother simply stood, put her hands on her hips, jutted her huge tits outwards and then with a wicked grin of her own walked past him to her bedroom, tits jiggling, delighting in the dropped jaw she left behind.
Joey's mind imprinted the sight, with an unexpected result. His cock stirred in his shorts. His mind spoke: Fuck! Is mum hot or what? Those tits!
A minute later she was back, in the same dress, presumably with underwear. She sat with her feet on the seat and grinned at herself for her blatant tease, pretending once again to look through her phone. She was aware that Joey was just looking at her. She assumed he was checking out her tits again, but when she looked she saw his gaze was lower down. She realised he was looking between her legs, and figured her pretty white panties might be visible.
Still feeling coquettish and thinking it was all just silly girlish fun, she said: "Hey there, son! You looking at my panties now?"
He met her banter in the same spirit: "Well, if you're a-showin' then I'm a-lookin'!"
"I'm not showing! Look away young man!"
"Nope!" He used a phrase from their facourite card game he knew she'd understand: "Double down or fold! Show more or cover up!"
"Joey Crosby!"
But she didn't cover up. So Joey looked again, fully aware she was watching him closely.
In a flash, like a bolt of lightning, the atmosphere in the room switched from teasing fun to erotic charge. Joey was still grinning wildly, now Ellen's face changed to a thin smile as she slowly, deliberately put her hands inside her knees and parted her thighs, all the time watching her son's reaction.
He looked, open-mouthed at the strip of white cotton between his mother's legs. He saw three distinctive creases, which he knew were the outsides of her pussy lips and the cleft between. Where he was conceived, and from where he came into the world.
Ellen's hands slid like silk down along her thighs and back up. Joey watched, looked at his mom's smiling face, then back to her panties. Now he realised little wisps of pubic hair were visible at the sides, and she had her legs so wide apart that the hollowing before her pussy itself was there for him to see.
And one more thing. There was a small, inch-long dark patch in the middle. His mother was showing him between her legs and it made her wet.
Joey looked into her eyes and couldn't help but give a dry gulp. She was still smiling, but he knew her well enough to see some trepidation there.
"Oh mum. Jesus you're hot!"
She closed her legs and put her feet on the floor. She giggled: "And you're very naughty."
"Me? You're the one who..."
"OK, I'm naughty too."
"Why did you do that mum?"
"Didn't you like it?"
"Hell yes, but, well, why?"
Ellen hadn't thought why, it just seemed like fun. Then insight hit her: "Because I'm nearly forty, your dad's long dead, and I'm wondering if maybe I'm gonna, y'know, get big and ugly and miss out? On Fun, I mean. That kind of fun."
"You want another man?"
"No. Yes but no. Oh I dunno. Yes I want fun but hell no I don't want a man, not for keeps anyway. Am I making sense?"
"Well it was fun for me anyway mum."
"Good. Who knew I could be such a brazen hussy?"
"You enjoyed being a hussy?"
