"I'm home," yelled Matt, before charging up the stairs, adding over his shoulder, "I'm going straight to bed."
Anne, his mother, glanced at the clock. It was only just after 10pm, a bit early to be back from a date. She listened intently to Matt as he reached to the top of the stairs. The floorboards on the landing creaked under his weight as they always did. She heard him close his bedroom door behind him, and a few minutes later settle down on the bed. She knew she shouldn't, but she did – she went to the hallway, and then followed him up the stairs.
Matt was lying on his bed, naked. As soon as he'd got to his room and shut the door, he'd stripped off and thrown himself on the bed, looking forward to a good wank. Tonight had been so frustrating – yet again. He couldn't believe that at nineteen, almost twenty, he was still a virgin. He'd had a few hand jobs from girls over the last few years, even a couple of blow jobs, and had got his hands and mouth onto some very nice boobs, but that was it.
For the last three weeks he'd been going out with Sarah, a girl from College who had a bit of a reputation. Their relationship had developed pretty well, and he'd really felt sure that tonight was the night, especially after the not very subtle hints she'd dropped the previous evening, when she told him that her parents would be away. So he'd met her as planned for a drink, walked her home with a raging hard on in his jeans, full of expectation, only to find out that her period had come early.
After that, he couldn't even bring himself to go into her house with her, but had instead make his excuses and rushed home.
"What crap timing," he'd screamed to himself, as he headed home, "Crap, crap, crap."
Now all he wanted was some release. He made himself comfortable, lying on the bed, his back propped up by his pillows. He reached for his cock, stroking it, wondering if his size put girls off. His cock hung quite long when soft, but once erect it grew to just over eight inches, and was thick with it. Did girls talk about that sort of thing? Swap notes? He doubted it – anyway, with his experience (or lack of it!), what was there to talk about?
Anne had crept upstairs by now, being careful to avoid the creaky floorboards. She had made this journey so often over the last three months that she knew exactly where to tread. She stopped outside Matt's room, and after hesitating for only a second dropped to her knees, and peered through the keyhole. As always she felt guilty, but simply couldn't stop herself.
She felt so lonely, so frustrated. The twins had been born when she was only seventeen. Now, at thirty-seven, she felt she was still at her sexual peak. Until four months ago, that had been great. Sex had been great. But then, her husband of nineteen years had upped and walked out, no warning, nothing. Although still extremely attractive – she had always looked after herself - Anne had not met anyone else. For a while her only sources of relief had been her fingers or her toys – until she'd started watching her son.
Her mind wandered, thinking about when this had started. It was just three months ago. She had thought that Matt was still at College. She'd just got back from work, and wanted to get some washing done. She went up to his room to empty his laundry basket, expecting his room to be empty. Instead, he was on his bed, that enormous cock in his hand, a copy of Playboy next to him.
Anne thought back to this, to how red they'd both gone, to how she'd muttered something and had backed out of his room as quickly as possible, but never taking her eyes his cock. But she hadn't gone back downstairs, as she knew she should have done. After hesitating for only a second, she'd gone back, almost in a dream, and had peered through his keyhole. He was wanking again, this time lying back on the bed. What was he thinking? She watched as he came, great gushes of cum springing from his cock and landing on his belly.
After watching him cum, she'd rushed to her room and frantically masturbated, her fingers a blur as she brought herself off in record time, visions of her son's cock filling her mind. After that she couldn't get that sight out of her mind, couldn't get his cock out of her mind, and had crept back to watch again a few days later. Now it was almost every day. Now she needed this release, despite the increasing risks she found herself taking.
With a start she came back to the present, watching as Matt stroked his huge cock with one hand, cupping his balls with the other.
"God," she thought, gasping as she always did at his size, "He really takes after his Dad."
This brought more memories, more urges, flooding back. Without taking her eye away from the door, she slipped her hand up her short skirt, pushing her knickers to one side. She felt her hot pussy, the juices already flooding from her. She rubbed her clit, biting her lip to stop herself from crying out. She slipped her other hand under her top to grasp her naked breasts, to pinch and pull at her nipples.
His actions were becoming faster – too fast, so he slowed, wanting to make this last. His balls felt full in his hand. He rolled them around gently, and then squeezed them, enjoying the pain. He pulled his foreskin back hard, exposing the bulbous red head of his cock, already shiny with pre cum. He smeared the sticky liquid around his cock, running a finger down his length. He stroked his cock from top to bottom, watching carefully as his skin slid up and down.
Anne pushed a finger, then two, inside her hot cunt, frigging herself, wanking in time to her son's movements, slowing down when he did, going faster when he did. Her other hand left her breasts, and slipped into her knickers, rubbing her clit with a circular motion. She felt so close to cumming, but she wanted to cum with Matt, to share with him albeit from the other side of the door, in secret.
She jumped as she saw Matt stand up. He stood at the side of the bed, his cock still in his hand. He took a few steps, and disappeared from her view. She held her pussy in her hand, rubbing softly while she waited for Matt to reappear, to start wanking again so that she could match his actions.
"He must be going to the mirror," she thought to herself.
She loved this. He would stand in front of the full length mirror wanking. She could enjoy looking at him in the mirror, seeing his fit, muscular body with his cock jutting out, and she could look at his firm ass, watching as his tight buttocks clenched together as he came. She rubbed her clit harder, and slipped her fingers back inside her hot cunt, anticipating what was to come.
The door flew open...
* * * * *
Kerry was so frustrated. She loved sex, and hadn't had any for almost a week. She was masturbating three, sometimes four, times a day. While that took the edge off things, it still wasn't enough.
She'd been a bit of a late starter when it came to sex. She wasn't sure why – she'd been brought up in a house were her parents seemed to be at it non-stop. But ever since her nineteenth birthday party, when she'd got off with a neighbours son - who was home from university and up for anything - it was like a dam had burst. She was still choosy about her partners, but once she had chosen and was sure of them, there was no stopping her.
But the last month or so had been exceptional.
It had all started when Jason joined her Psychology class at College. To say that he was a hunk would be an understatement. He was just over six feet tall, and looked muscular and well built. And judging by the bulge in his tight jeans, he was built all over. Kerry had taken one look at him, and had decided there and then that she wanted him – soon.
After class, she had followed him down to the refectory, and had made sure she was next to him in the queue. From there, it wasn't hard to get him to join her at a table. They chatted all through lunch, and got on really well. It was Jason who actually asked her out.
"It couldn't be going better," she thought to herself, as she wandered off to her next lesson, deliberately swinging her hips as she waved to Jason over her shoulder.
That night she took great care in getting ready. She wore her red hair down around her shoulders, where it contrasted sharply with her pale skin. She stood naked, looking at herself in the full-length mirror, liking what she saw. She reached for her breasts, cupping them, enjoying their firmness, knowing they looked good. She looked down at her flat tummy, and at her pussy snuggling behind her red hair. She liked to keep it just long enough to mask her prominent lips and clit, but just short enough to be really provocative.
She decided to wear a tight, white tee shirt that seemed to mould itself to her body, emphasising the shape and fullness of her breasts. She thought about going braless, but decided not to because of the size of her breasts, and what the material rubbing on her nipples would do to them. So she compromised with a thin, seamless bra (and matching knickers) that got over these twin problems. She then wriggled into a red flared miniskirt, and slipped on some high-heeled sandals. A small amount of makeup and she was done.
"Mmm – well I'd want you," she told herself in the mirror, before grabbing her bag and heading for the stairs.
"See you later," she called out, as she left the house, heading for the local bar where she'd arranged to meet Jason.
Jason was early, and was waiting for Kerry when she arrived. They got a drink, and found a booth were they could talk. The evening flew by, as they talked about just about every topic under the sun. By the time it got to midnight they were sat next to each other, kissing passionately, their hands exploring. They left soon afterwards, heading for Jason's small flat around the corner.
Within seconds of bursting through the front door, and kicking it shut behind them, Kerry was on her knees, gratefully sucking Jason's cock into her mouth. His cock wasn't huge in length, about six inches long, but it was so thick it was all she could do to get her mouth around it. She licked and tasted him, loving the pre cum oozing from him, cradling his heavy balls in her hand.
He pulled her to her feet, dragging the tee shirt over her head, deftly undoing her bra. Now it was his turn to gasp as her firm, full breasts were exposed to him in all their glory. He held them, fondling them as he kissed her, their tongues deep inside each other.
He led her to the bedroom, where they stripped each other, savouring each other's bodies. Then they fucked. He wasn't the best lover she'd ever had, but that cock stretched and filled her pussy like no other. She came over and over again, while he pumped his cum into her mouth, into her pussy, and finally over her breasts.
She eventually crept home at four o'clock in the morning, knowing that she would need him again very soon.
Fortunately, she had no lessons at College until after lunch. So, after a lie in and a long shower to wash away the dried juices from last night, she studied her wardrobe, deciding what to wear. She settled on a long sleeved, V-neck sweater, and a loose skirt that finished a few inches above her knees. Her sensitive nipples rubbed sensually against the material of her jumper, very quickly teasing them erect. She slipped on some white panties, but left her bra on the bed, enjoying the freedom, enjoying the feel of her jumper on her bare skin.
