Milf Deliberately Flashes Son

This is Part 2 to MILF Accidentally Flashes Son. Thank you for the feedback! I am sorry Part 1 was so short it was just a little fantasy I had. My English and grammar is not always perfect so please forgive me for this! There will be Part 3 if people like this.

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In my mind I had planned every small detail perfectly. I curse beneath my breath as I stand in the hallway, the hand towel I am wearing clinging to my wet pale skin.

I was very careful to make sure that the top of my dark pink areolas are visible and that the towel hangs down to my wide hips, but not further, sitting on my hips and plump booty cheeks. It is technically enough, I think, to count as 'being decent' even if a tiny movement or a breeze would make the hand towel slip straight off.

You are 49, not 89. Live a little bit! You used to have fun!

I had convinced myself.

If you regret flashing your son you can claim it is an accident, like last time.

I thought I heard his foot steps outside the bathroom door but it must be my imagination. I had stepped out full of nerves and excitement and determination to find my hall way empty.

I am sure I heard foot steps...

I think to myself, pouting. I sigh and this tiny motion does make the hand towel slip off, so I bend down to pick it up and take it back to my bed room.

At the other end of the hall way my 22 yo son tries not to moan out loud as he watches my bouncy naked body through a crack in his bed room door, his bulbous veiny cock hard in his hand already from peeking on me earlier through the bathroom door keyhole.

"Ohh mom, your ass is so perfect and round..." he moans beneath his breath, his eyes savouring every detail in the few seconds it is still visible before I disappear from view.

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With my dirty plan ruined I try to think properly and push my energy some where else. My New Year resolution was to jog and so I put on a supportive sports bra and thong (yes! It is really more comfortable for me to jog!), sweats and running shoes and promise myself that some exercise would, I think, exorcise my demons.

This is working!

I think happily, puffing my red cheeks in effort. My legs and lungs hurting so bad after 2km pushes away the bad thoughts completely. But I didn't plan my route as a circle properly and now have another 20 minutes to walk home, all alone with my thoughts.

I think about last night, how I'd bumped into my son and accidentally flashed him, but I don't feel embarrassed about it any more.

He was so tall...

I think, remembering how it felt to look up at his eyes as he stared at me.

And so strong...

I gulp, fantasising about his broad shoulders and firm chest.

And so handsome...

I bite my lip as I walk, thinking about his deep blue eyes and chiselled stubbled face.

If he wasn't my son I would-

I shake my head like I always do to shake thoughts away, but my nipples are painfully stiff in the sports bra and I excitedly realise I need to take another shower when I get home.

My son is in his bed room when I get home (playing computer games most likely), so I peel my work out clothes and underwear off and put them in the hamper before stepping in to the shower.

When I step out and dry myself off I wrap a normal towel around my hair and a hand towel around my curvaceous pale body without even thinking about it, the white cotton hugging my big breasts and hips. There is no spare material to tie the towel around my self, only being held in place against my body by my hands.

I chew on my long nails (a bad habit I have never fixed!) as I wait to hear foot steps outside the bathroom door. My plan is to bump in to my son again but after a few minutes of my heart pounding I give up waiting.

Go to his room! You know that you want to...

I tiptoe down the hall way, holding the damp hand towel to my curvy body, and plan what I will do. Open the door, ask if he is okay, maybe apologise for flashing him yesterday and then drop the towel 'by accident'. I can struggle and fail to pick it back up, giving him a good look at me. The thought alone makes my cheeks flush, my nipples stiffen and my pussy almost pulsate with excitement.

I hold his door handle.

Deep breath. Open it in 3, 2, 1...

I open his door and let the towel start to slip, expecting to catch him playing games.

Instead I gasp.

He is laying down on his bed, the sweaty thong I put in the hamper minutes earlier held against his face with one hand as his other hand tightly strokes his twitching, throbbing cock.

"Mom!" he squeals in shock, his eyes wide.

"Oh my God!" I shout.

He tries to cover himself up and also hide my underwear.

"I'm so sorry Matt!" I say, but cannot stop staring at his twitching, thick cock and heavy smooth balls.

He groans, trying not to cum, his orgasm so close to breaking before I interrupted him.

That is when the hand towel gives up and slips off completely, exposing my inch long hard nipples and puffy hairy red pussy.

"Oh fuck, mom, no no no no..." Matt moans, his marble abs shaking and jaw tight, eyes closed, as the image of my nude body pushes him over the edge.

I bend down to quickly pick the towel back up and escape when I hear him grunt.

A long rope of thick cum shoots from his veiny cock and sticks across my shocked face.

"Ughhh! Mom I'm... I'm sorry mom, fuck-" he groans again as more sprays over my bouncy chest and over the floor, his big balls squeezing and emptying no matter how hard he tries to stop.

I pull the hand towel up and freeze in shock, my son's cum sliding down my pale skin.

"Mom it's not what it looks like!" he shouts, horrified, wrapping his bed sheet around himself. It does nothing to hide the outline of his still hard and dripping cock.

"No? Then what are you doing actually?" I ask sternly, unwrapping my hair towel and using it to wipe some cum off my cheek.

He looks sheepish and says nothing.

"Because I think..." I say, gulping, "that you were stroking your big juicy cock, while you sniff mommy's sweaty thong, no?"

He shakes his head but I know that he is lying.

I feel so much tension between us now and I feel like my body is on fire but tiny logical part of my brain wins.

"Clean your carpet before it is stained" I say, almost breathless, pointing to the cum that missed me and splashed on the floor.

Then I close his door, stomach in knots and thighs shaking. I walk back to my bed room in shock -- partly because of what I have just seen! and partly because of what I have just said!

Biting my lip I scoop up some cum that settled in my cleavage and bring it to my lips, dipping my tongue to it from curiosity. The taste is sweet and sticky and I quickly realise I have licked it all up.

If his cum tastes this good just imagine what his veiny cock would taste like...

I'm so aroused I cannot deny myself. I lay on my own bed and rub my nicely hairy pussy with one hand and squeeze my hard nipples with my other. I lift up one breast to lick my nipple and imagine his cock giving me love taps instead of my hand on my clit, and his mouth on my nipples instead of my own.

Your own son's cock, slapping your needy pussy...

Soon my hips are bucking and I am rubbing in fast circles, skin all pink and sweaty.

His huge fat head slipping inside of you, his strong hands holding your wide hips...

I grip the sheets and squeal, whole body shuddering as the first of several orgasms I plan on having washes over me. At the same time as I orgasm it is like a dam bursting mentally.

Imagining it feels amazing but I need more... I need it for real! I need to seduce my son and be fucked by him! I need to taste his sticky cum again...

Like woman possessed I grab my pillow and squat my thighs down either side, grinding and rubbing my pussy against it. In my mind I imagine it is my son's body, not foam I am riding on. My big booty slides back and forward, also rubbing on the pillow in thrusting motions that only adds to my pleasure.

I hear the way he said 'mom' as he moaned earlier in my mind over and over, each consecutive orgasm making me more determined to make this real.

Part of me hope, I think, that he would enter my room to apologise (or with that hard young cock stiff and ready in his hands) and see me humping my pillow, big tits swaying and bouncing as my thick thighs push up and down. When the front door opens instead of my bed room door and I realise he is leaving I care less about looking or moaning sexy and only focus on my pleasure.

I wonder how I can seduce him when he comes back?

I think, biting my lip, as I collapse and roll over with pillow clamped between my thighs, fingers on my aching clit.

"Tomorrow is Sunday and Sunday is for family time, no?" I moan to myself wickedly.