I should probably warn you right now that this is a long story.
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Kristin Saunders walked up the stairs, carrying an armload of clean towels and facecloths. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and she had just brought a basket of clothes in from the clothesline. She loved the way they smelled after hanging outside. She brushed her dark brown hair back over her shoulder and pressed her nose to the towel on the top of the pile, inhaling it's fresh scent. She opened the linen closet door and began stacking the items in her arms on a shelf.
Kristin was standing outside the bedroom door of her son, Alan. His door was closed, but she could hear music and voices coming from inside her son's bedroom. It was almost four o'clock that afternoon. Alan's best friend, Joey, had come over to visit and play video games shortly after lunch, like he often did on weekends and some evenings.
Alan and Joey had known one another since childhood. They lived within a block of one another in Maple Ridge and would both be turning nineteen within two months. Sometimes they were mistaken for brothers, although Alan, like his father, was nearly six feet tall with jet-black hair and blue eyes, unlike his brown-haired friend. Both he and Joey were in their first year at Hampton Technical College.
"Come on, Alan, don't tell me you've never noticed her," Joey scoffed.
"Never," Alan said, sounding earnest.
"But you've got to admit that she's pretty though. Right?" Joey added.
"Sure, she's pretty," Alan replied. "Everyone says that about her."
"Sexy too," Joey chimed-in.
"I guess... I don't know," Alan stammered.
Kristin smiled, listening to the conversation between her son and his friend. She had had not intended to eavesdrop, but when she heard Joey's excited voice above the music she paused and smiled, wondering what girl from school the boys were discussing. She knew fully well what teenage guys were like: preoccupied with sex almost constantly. She stood by the door with a smirk on her face, curious about what else she might overhear.
"She's got nice tits too," Joey remarked. "Don't tell me you've never noticed them."
"Well, it's kind of hard not to sometimes," Alan answered with a quiet laugh, sounding hesitant.
"I bet it's hard!" Joey shot back, drowning out the music playing in the background. "Just like her nipples when she doesn't wear a bra."
"But she usually does -- as far as I can tell."
"I don't think she is today," Joey said.
"No.... ah... I guess not," Alan answered, sounding nervous.
"Man, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but -- she's hot!" Joey exclaimed.
Alan laughed, but never replied.
"Have you ever seen her topless?" Joey prodded.
"Dude, she's my mom!" Alan spat out.
Kristin's heart jumped when she realized she was the topic of discussion -- not some cute girl the boys knew at school. She froze and clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle a gasp of shock, then craned her head, hoping to hear more of the conversation. Kristin smiled to herself. She knew fully well that her son had been lying to his friend -- or at least had been guilty of lying by omission.
There was silence from the bedroom for a few seconds until Joey spoke once more. "Sure, she's your mom, but she's got great tits; she's really pretty too. If my mom looked like that I wouldn't mind being a motherfucker," he said.
Alan gave a nervous laugh.
"So, have you ever seen her topless, Al?" he prodded.
"A couple of times," Alan finally admitted after several seconds.
Kristin's mouth went agape. Almost even before she had realized it, her clit began to swell and throb. She felt herself grow slightly weak as her pussy began to dampen. A flush came over her face and she smiled, recalling the times that she had noticed her teenage son's sapphire eyes linger on her longer than they probably should have.
The times that Kristin had noticed her son's apparent ogling of her she never thought much of it, or concluded that she was over-reacting. Nonetheless, she still found Alan's prolonged gawking and awkward glances at her very exciting, perhaps because of how forbidden it was. On those instances Alan reminded her of her younger brother, Patrick. Since their teenage years Patrick had been in the habit of ogling Kristin; sometimes even leering down the front of her blouse or tank top when she would bend over. Kristin had ignored her brother's improper staring, or at least pretended to. But it always aroused her as much as it probably did Patrick. She began to enjoy the power of being able to get her brother's attention and turn him on. Often these occasions ended with him slinking off to his room, presumably to masturbate. Often Kristin did the same as well -- lying on her bed and rubbing her tingling clit as she imagined being brave enough to either flash her younger brother, or allow him to fondle her. Despite how much these fantasies of illicit contact with Patrick made her horny, Kristin never acted upon them, fearing the consequences.
Kristin clutched a stack of face cloths to her chest, breathing heavier and attempting to over-hear more of the conversation between her son and his friend. Her nipples rubbed over the inside of the thin blouse she wore. She regretted her decision not to wear a bra that day and contemplated going to her room to put one on. But she did not want the boys to hear her and suspect that she had been listening to them. She braced her hand on the door of the linen closet and leaned closer to her son's bedroom door.
"A couple of times?" Joey echoed with excitement. "How much could you see?" Now the conversation sounded more like an interrogation.
"Once when I was walking by her room after she got out of the shower I saw her pulling a sweater on," Alan said.
"And?"
