Learning Through Porn

The golden pink rays of the morning sun fell across Angela and Gus Johnson's bed. Angela opened her eyes, blinking dreamily, feeling that marvelous relaxed feeling of waking up after having been well fucked the night before. A sense of well-being suffused her, warm as the sunlight on her quilt. She looked lovingly at her husband, still asleep next to her, the covers half off of his back. How satisfying last night had been in so many ways.

She was sure that she had truly helped her son, Max. She remembered how horrible she had felt when she had thought that she might have done some irreparable damage to his confidence. And all because she hadn't had the foresight when she stumbled on him jerking off to condone his activities. Well, she had made up for that, no doubt.

And then, to have the supreme satisfaction of passionate love-making with her wonderful husband. It all came together to make her feel how fortunate she was, how blessed, to have this family. She sighed, happily arching her back in a stretch, before getting up and putting her feet into her soft slippers. Confused for a second at her lack of clothing, she recalled how she had disrobed the night before with an amused grin. She grabbed a short robe and put it on over her nakedness before venturing downstairs to get the coffee going.

*****

In his room, Max twisted and turned in his sheets, sweaty and uncomfortable. He had awoken early from a confused dream and had been unable to get back to sleep. Were his memories of last night real? Could he have actually looked at those pictures with his mother? Was it really possible that he had jerked himself off with her right next to him?

If she hadn't been disgusted by what had happened earlier in the evening, how could she help but be disgusted now? The confused and deeply ashamed boy stared up at the ceiling. He was convinced that his mother must think of him as some kind of depraved pervert. And after she had come back to try and help him!

*****

Gus Johnson blinked as the alarm shrilled on his bedside table. Stretching luxuriously, he contemplated the blue sky showing through the window. A smile played across his lips as he recalled the hot sex he had enjoyed the night before. Christ, but his wife had been like a cat in heat, throwing herself on him with a passion he had not experienced in years. He wondered briefly what it was that had brought her to such a state, but part of his mind urged him not to examine it too closely. Be thankful, it whispered slyly. You haven't had it so good in years. And he nodded to himself as he got up to get ready for another day at the office.

*****

By lunchtime, Angela no longer felt so pleased with everything. Although Gus seemed normal and happy when he left for work, giving her a warm kiss and a squeeze of her butt through her robe, Max had seemed even worse than before. His reaction on seeing her was to blush, turn away and scamper out the door. Despite everything, he was further from her than he had been before she went to visit him last night.

The young woman was definitely confused. She had thought that the two of them had established a level of shared intimacy that was rare among parents and children. Had she not been understanding? Had she not even tried to encourage him in his activities of self-pleasuring?

She had managed to get her hair appointment, and was in the mall after having her bangs trimmed. Walking down the main drag with a bottle of water, her eye was caught by the Victoria's Secret store. Without thinking, the pretty mother strolled into the shop. As she browsed among the intimate clothing, her mind returned to the pictures she had looked at last night with her son.

Despite herself, she had to admit that the redhead had looked hot in the skimpy outfit. Would she be able to wear stuff like that? She suspected that she had the body for it, although she had never had the opportunity to compare herself against anything like the girl on the website. Unconsciously, she drifted towards the table with the g-strings.

She held one up in front of her. There was hardly anything to it, and the coverage seemed impossibly small. She wondered whether she had the guts to wear one of these. At the same time, she thought about how aroused Max had been by seeing a girl wear one. Her mind was awhirl, and she felt warm.

"Can I help you with anything?"

The perky voice belonged to an equally perky appearing young saleswoman. Angela looked at her blankly for a second.

"Uh... I was just looking..."

"These are one of our bestsellers, ma'am," the girl went on, as if Angela hadn't spoken. She took the one that she had picked up from her hands. "There really isn't another panty like it to make you feel really sexy, y'know?"

"People actually wear these?" Angela couldn't believe she had blurted this. She sounded so naïve.

"Of course," giggled the girl, who was really very pretty. "I love them, myself. See?" And she hooked a finger into her pants and pulled up a string above the waistband. "Mmmm. Sorry!" But she looked anything but sorry, as she saucily stared at the older woman, and then released the string from her finger. Angela blinked several times in shock, then coughed and turned back to the display. She was suddenly conscious that her nipples were hard and pushing out against her bra. She had to get away from this girl before she made a complete fool of herself.

"I'll take eight."

"Sure! What size?"

"Small, I think," Angela blushed.

"I would have guessed x-tra small," the girl said with a wink, and then expertly sifted through the piles selecting different colors and styles. She led the way to the cash register, and within moments Angela was outside the store holding a Victoria's Secret bag. Despite her blushing, unconsciously she was thinking how much Max liked seeing women in underwear just like the ones in the bag.

*****

Max Johnson was having a difficult day at school. He couldn't seem to concentrate on anything. He was distracted by the memory of his mother's breast against his cheek, or the sound of her sexy laugh as she left his room last night. This morning had been no help, because when he came downstairs to get some breakfast, she was in the kitchen, dressed in a short thin cotton robe which hugged her every curve.

In fact, the first thing he had seen was her ass, barely covered by the robe, sticking out towards him, as she leaned over the counter reading the paper and sipping her coffee. He had stood there transfixed by the sight until she stood up and looked at him, smiling happily. It was at that moment that he realized that he had a steel-hard erection, and he hightailed it out of there before she could realize how perverted he was.

Now, even surrounded by the pretty high school girls, even those girls who had starred in his fantasies every night up to now; now Max found himself unable to see beauty in any girl. They none of them stacked up against his mother.

"Hi, Max," trilled Kitty Clifton. She was a year behind him, and on the cheerleader squad. She leaned up against the locker next to his. She cocked one long leg, her pleated skirt rising up over the muscles of her thigh. With one finger, she twirled her long brown hair. A few feet away, a knot of other girls giggled together, watching.

In the past, this would have been the cue for Max to blush, stammer, and completely ruin any chance of meaningful conversation with the hot cheerleader. In fact, this was the sole reason for Kitty's approach. It had been a game among her and her friends to see how much they could unsettle the young man. Even though he was pretty cute, in a kind of nerdy way, the girl mused.

But instead, surprisingly, he turned to face her without his usual shyness.

"Hi, Kitty," he replied, without the typical tremor in his voice. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," the girl replied. If he wasn't going to rise to the bait, she would have to apply more pressure. After all, she had friends watching. Trailing a finger up her front, she toyed with a button on her blouse between her full breasts. "Hot today, isn't it?"

"I guess," said Max, turning his attention back to his books. He hadn't really noticed Kitty's maneuver as his mind was still taken up with the picture of his mother leaning over the counter. It was amazing, he realized, that her robe had not slipped up and over her ass, considering how short it was.

His lack of reaction caused Kitty's mouth to drop open. That trick always worked, she thought. How could he resist staring? She would have to really turn up the heat. She undid the button and pulled the top of her blouse further apart.

"What are you doing Friday night?"

Max turned back to her. The way her blouse had gaped open, he could see the lacy strap of her bra over the upper swell of her breast, her tan skin soft and golden. Yesterday, he would have died for such a view. But his mind was still miles away.

"Why?"

Either Max Johnson was a doofus, or he was a much cooler kid than she had given him credit for. Either way, she was intrigued and wanted to find out more about him.

"What does a girl have to do to get a guy to ask her for a date," she whispered, staring at him with sultry blue eyes.

Max blinked twice. For the first time that day, his mind slipped off of the image of his mother and refocused on the teen beauty in front of him. Realizing that he was on the brink of something huge, he took all of his courage in his hands. After all, the girl had quite the reputation as the hottest and wildest girl in school. He remembered the stories that surrounded her eighteenth birthday party last month. Of course, he had not been invited. Well, maybe this would make up for it.

"Oh. Is that all? Sure, Kitty, you wanna go out with me Friday?" He hoped his tone was as insouciant as he had planned.

"See you at 6:30, my place." She turned and skipped back to her friends, who surrounded her, with much giggling and whispering.

*****

Angela Johnson had put the bag in her closet without even looking inside. She was not sure that she wanted to know what she had bought. Certainly part of her wanted to try a pair on, but she was scared of what her reaction might be.

She was preparing dinner in the kitchen when she heard her son get home from school. He didn't even stop to say hi, but went right up to his room. She heard the door slam, shaking the whole house. She sighed. It seemed there were still problems that she would have to address. But for the time being, she would let him have some space. Maybe tonight...

Diner was a subdued affair, as each member of the Johnson family was wrapped up in their own thoughts. Max was thinking about Kitty, and about his date with her on Friday night. He had spent the afternoon in his room, staring at his homework, but really worrying about how he was going to manage to stay cool when he was out with one of the hottest girls in the school. He wasn't even sure that he had anything he could talk about with her. Did they have anything in common at all?

Angela was observing her son, who was clearly obsessing over something. She was worried that it had to do with their conversation the night before. He was not even looking at her. Was he still ashamed over those pictures he was looking at? How could she get him to relax about it?

Gus Johnson looked at his wife and his son. He had no idea what was going on. Usually dinner was a talkative affair in his house. But tonight, Angela looked worried and Max looked upset. He resolved to talk to Angela later, but he had a bunch of work he had to take care of before tomorrow.

After dinner, each person went off to their own parts of the house. Gus was quickly lost in his work, spreadsheets and data occupying all of his conscious thought. Max, meanwhile, finished his homework half-heartedly, then dove into a computer game, trying to free his mind. Angela watched some stupid comedy, then took a long hot bath, still wondering how she was going to get Max to accept that it was all right to look at whatever he wanted to.

Later, Gus wrapped up his work and came upstairs to find Angela lying on the bed in a bathrobe. Although she had a magazine in her hands, she was clearly not paying any attention to it, as her gaze was off in the distance.

"What's on your mind, Ange?"

"Oh, Gus. I think Max is still confused about me barging in on him."

"Are you sure?" Gus was surprised. He had thought the issue had been resolved the night before. "He certainly seemed preoccupied at dinner."

"I think he's still worried that I think he's disgusting or perverted, or something."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" He wasn't sure how he would go about talking to his son about this. This was a little beyond the old 'birds and bees.'

"No, no. I think it has to be me who talks to him," Angela replied earnestly. "I'm just not sure how to convince him that I don't mind what he does in the privacy of his own room."

"Well, maybe you have to show him that you're not uptight yourself. After all, we've looked at some pictures together in the past." Gus was astonished at what he had said. Was he encouraging something here? But she seemed so sincere in her confusion, so desperate to help their son. Surely nothing too untoward could come of it.

Angela thought about what her husband had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was her fault. After all, she was always so careful about what she wore or about what she said, especially around their son. And had he ever seen them more than politely affectionate with each other? Maybe he had gotten the idea that because his parents were so proper, he wasn't allowed to express his own needs.

"I think perhaps you're right," she said thoughtfully, then came to a decision. She stood up and went to the dresser, where she hunted around and then pulled out a white lacy baby-doll negligee. Gus watched her, slightly horrified. Was she really going to wear that? Angela pulled out the Victoria's Secret bag and found a matching g-string to go with the lingerie. With a shrug of her shoulders, she let the bathrobe fall to the ground. Underneath, she only had a pair of white cotton panties on. These she skimmed off her hips and stepped out of.

Once again, Gus was in awe of his wife's beauty. Such sweet curves, such smooth skin. She slipped into the baby-doll, pulling it down over her head. With an economy of motion born of practice, she settled each breast inside of its cup. The hem of the negligee reached perhaps an inch or two below the bottom curves of her ass. Now she held up the g-string, apparently assuring herself that the string was in the back, before daintily stepping into it.

As she pulled the string up and over her ass, Angela felt it slip sinfully between the cheeks. She tugged lightly at the string, feeling it settle against her anus, rubbing wickedly against the tender skin there. Running a fingernail under the front panel, she situated it as best as possible over her pubic mound. With delight she noted how well it cupped her pussy, the sheer material holding her like a small hand. Unfortunately, the panel was not quite large enough to cover all of her pubic hair, but she figured that in dim light and with the lacy baby-doll covering her, there would be no way for anyone (Max, her inner voice whispered) to see that.

As she turned to face him, Gus gasped in astonishment. His wife was transformed into a siren. The straps of the baby-doll left much of each breast uncovered, with only a slight lacy cup covering the bottom third. At least the nipple was not in plain sight, he realized, although he wondered how obvious it would be if they were fully aroused. And the front of the gown came up in the middle of the front, revealing a peek at the tiny g-string lewdly outlining her sex. What had he done?

"I think this will show him that I'm not uptight, don't you think?" A saucy smile on her lips, Angela laughed to herself at her husband's gawking. "Don't you worry, Mister. I'm coming back afterwards, and then you can unwrap me!"

*****

Max was sitting in bed, his thoughts on Kitty Clifton. The girl was so beautiful, he couldn't believe that he was going on a date with her. That long straight brown hair, the deep sea-blue eyes, her full lips, usually quirked in a superior smile, the heart-shaped face. Not to mention, of course, the killer body, always displayed to advantage in the sexiest clothes allowable under school rules.

The worst of it was, he had no idea why she had taken the sudden interest in him. Was it just a more elaborate way of yanking his chain? Was he going to show up at her house on Friday and be greeted by a group of jeering teenaged girls?

Or, even more frightening, was she for real?

While he was lost in thought, he heard a knock at his door.

"Max, can I come in?"

His heart skipped a beat as he suddenly remembered the events of last night. He could hardly believe that it had been only twenty-four hours since his mother had stood behind him while he (he thought) secretly jerked off under the desk. What did she want now?

"Uh, yeah, come on in."

Angela opened the door, and saw Max again in the bed, in much the same position as he had been the night before. Once more her heart went out to him. He seemed so vulnerable, so confused. She had to make things right.

If Max' heart had skipped a beat before, it actually stopped for a second at the sight of his mother in the door. My God, he thought, is she actually wearing what I think she's wearing?

Once again, she was backlit, so he couldn't see her face that well, but the outline of her lithe body shone right through the lacy baby-doll she was wearing. With one hand on the doorframe, she stood on her tiptoes.

"Max, we need to talk again," she said, sounding a little anxious.

"Uh, sure, Mom," Max answered. He thought maybe his eyes might pop out of his head as she came across the room and into the light. The skimpy negligee hid next to nothing. Her breasts (he couldn't think of them as tits, it was his mother, after all) swayed provocatively under the white lace of the baby-doll's cups. Her long slim legs were entirely uncovered, and his eyes swept inexorably up their length to where they disappeared under the lacy hem. As she walked, the front slipped back and forth, giving him glimpses of the junction of her thighs where the shadows hid whatever she was wearing underneath.

"Listen, honey," she began, standing next to the bed, looking down at him, "about last night..." Her heart was beating fast, and she fought the urge to put her hands protectively in front of her crotch. She had no idea how much he could see, and it made her uncomfortable, but she schooled herself, holding her hands together behind her back. Tonight was to make Max understand that everybody had sexual thoughts and desires.

"Uh, Mom, I can explain," Max began. He was trying to look anywhere but between her legs or at her chest. It wasn't easy, and she certainly wasn't making it any easier as she stood there bouncing on her toes. He felt himself blushing, and he looked down at where his hands were twisting the sheet.

"No, Max, you don't have to explain anything," his mother broke in. He stole a glance up at her, and saw her smiling nervously. His eyes raked down her body again, taking in the firm breasts, standing with little support, down to that gap in her baby-doll. As she bounced, the light would flick in, and he suddenly saw the little pouch holding her sex. He felt sick as a rush of blood poured into his groin. He knew there was little that would hold him back from getting an erection. And all that protected his embarrassment from his mother was a thin sheet and his boxers. Why couldn't he have worn something tighter tonight?

"What do you mean?" His glance had felt as physical as a caress down her body. She bit her lip as she felt that familiar warmth in her groin. She didn't notice the movement under the sheet that would have belied her son's arousal, caught up as she was in her own.