Mom & Son Confess

"Oh Lord, Sean!" Lauren exclaimed, as she looked down at her son's head between her legs. "I've never felt anything so good."

It is said a man is born out of a vagina and then spends the rest of his life trying to get back in. A few desire or fantasize about their mother's vagina and fewer still come to realize that desire. It is no understatement that "It Takes Two to Tango" is relevant in getting back into that forbidden treasure.

SEAN

After an eight year estrangement from my mother, I took advantage of my newly acquired adult status and left dad's home in North Carolina to share a large apartment on Long Island with her.

My small bedroom shared a small wall portion with her bedroom, the wall portion containing an 8 paned glass window that had been painted over. What this window's original purpose was is open to discussion. It was positioned right over the head of

Not legally divorced from my father, but separated permanently by 400+ miles, mom had made a new life. She had a boyfriend and, I discovered quickly, she had no heart-ache fucking him while I was in the apartment. Sleeping? But let's be honest, after an evening of drinking and being liquored-up, raging hormones get the best of all of us.

My "fantasies" began on one such night when you could not shut out the obvious commotion going on in the next room. With youthful curiousity, I visualized the position of my mother's bed and began to scratch the paint off of one corner of the panes, knowing the other side was not painted, and careful not to remove anymore paint than necessary.

Call it luck or fate, but there was a full moon that evening shining through a small, un-curtained rectangle window high on the wall and it eliminated mom's bed quite nicely.

It took a bit of maneuvering on my part but I was soon fascinated by the sight of my mother on her knees with, old, Ben (and I mean that literally as he had to be 12 to 15 years older), behind her popping her ass for all he was worth.

I unleashed a growing erection from my briefs. The moonlight and the reflective nature of the white sheets made mom appear as a perfect animated silhouette. Her tit, the one closest to me and the only one I could see, jiggled rhythmically as her body moved forward and backwards with Ben's thrusts. I could hear her soft moans clearly, and I would not swear to it, but I saw or imagined her nipple being longish and and firm, attesting to her arousal.

Minutes passed as I toyed with my now full erection. I saw her left hand reach between her legs, taking matters into her own hand so to speak, and her body began to shove backwards impaling herself on Ben's cock. The volume of her moans lifted a bit and in a minute or two she buried her face into a pillow to stifle the uncontrollable orgasmic moan. Old Ben followed her a moment or two later. I lost visual contact as I myself shot off all over my pillow.

Lauren

My Saturday was going pretty much the way Saturdays usually when, except now I had more clothes to wash, another room to clean, and one more bed to make.

It was while making that bed that I looked up to see the painted window had a small scratch low in one corner of a pane. Moving closer and peering through, it was quite evident that you could see most of my bedroom through the scratch. I knew for certain that the scratch and not been there long and I pondered the "why" and came up with the only answer I could come up with....my son was spying on me through the scratch.

All day long I steamed and pondered what he might have seen. He had moved in 5 month ago. Could that scratch had been there that long? Surely, I would have noticed it earlier?

I have to admit I had been delinquent in shielding him from my sexual life. But hell, spying on me?

By supper time the steam had boiled out of my madness and I became intrigued with his nerve, assuming I was correct?

"I sacked Ben." I informed him.

"Really! That's a shame! I'm going to miss him. What happened?"

'I bet you are but maybe not as much as you think!' I thought.

"I'm tired of him. He thinks he owns me. It's not worth the hassle for what little he contributes."

"You mean bill paying"

"Yea! Bill paying! Got a problem?" I challenged.

I smiled inwardly as my harsh tone made him slightly

"Not me. I liked him well enough but you deserve better maybe even younger. You need to be a nbit more selective."

"Younger than Ben or younger than me?" I inquired.

"Either one, I suppose. You know your needs more than I do."

Eyeing him suspiciously across the supper table, I decided, most definitely, that I would give the coy, horny little bastard (not really) something to spy on.

The next evening, Sunday, we retired as usual around eleven o'clock. I had worked myself into a lustful mood just pondering what I was going to do.

Entering my bedroom, content to leave the bright overhead light on, I wandered around haplessly gathering and arranging my clothes for work the next morning. I needed to kill some time and give Sean time to get ready for bed.

I approached the full length mirror and stood there admiring myself, I hoped he was spying on me. Yeah, the word "hoped" even surprised me at the time. I began to squeeze and fondle my breasts, pinching my nipples through the fabric.

I knew there was no way in hell anything was going to happen between me and my son. I mean, hell, think about it; sexual intimacy meant being under a man thumb, maybe pregnancy, possible rejection. Also, incest is most likely a one way ticket to hell, but, still, one does not enjoy living in a vacuum and I found it stimulating and exciting to know that he might be watching me.

I slid my hands up under my thin-cotton tank-top. A few long moments of fondling and I removed it and reached behind me to unsnap my bra. I resisted the urge to turn and face the window and flaunt my breasts. There's not enough there to flaunt anyway.

Acknowledging his presence was not my intent and could lead to a serious misunderstanding. I continued looking in the mirror and unsnapped my jeans, pushed them down over my hips and stepped out of them. I was quite happy I had on my pink bikini underwear. They go well with my auburn hair.

I ran my hand between my legs and found the crotch of my panties to be moist. Maybe this was going to be more fun than expected. Careful not to appear to be doing a striptease,

I pushed the panties down, stepping out of them. I rubbed my pussy and ass a brief period, squatting to widen my stance.

I turned and walked casually to my bedside table, opened the draw, and picked up an 8" purple dildo. The slightly curved, firm but jellylike shaft, culminated in a set of rather large balls. My first notion was to lie on the bed with my legs spread directly towards the window, I fought the urge.

I entered the bed and reclined back. I placed the dildo beside me and placed my feet flat on the bed, my knees spread. My eyes closed, I began to rub my right hand over my mound, letting my fingers course through my ample bush, while fondling my breasts with my left hand. For long minutes, I let my fingers toy and probe my pussy before placing my middle finger to my clit, stroking it tenderly.

I never rushed masturbation and certainly did not want to now. Many minutes passed before I reached for the dildo. I brought my head up to watch as I pushed it into me and after a few tentative probes I was able to take it clear up to the balls.

I hoped again, unashamed, that he was watching. I even hoped he was stroking his cock, but it was not long before I was beyond caring as my left middle finger stroked my clit and I pumped the dildo into me with determination.

With long dry spells without a man, masturbation had always been an adventure for me; door knobs, bed posts, bottles, vegetables etc. I always needed something more, so I maneuvered to my knees, gripped the over sized balls of the dildo with my fingers and thumbs to keep it in place and began to ride the dildo.

I had used the technique before and achieved a great orgasm, and the thought of being watched only made me hotter.

I rode my ass off. It was difficult to keep the shaft in contact with my clit, but eventually I was moaning and breathing pretty heavily when the orgasm gripped me. I shoved my ass down hard pushing the rubber shaft deep into me. My body shuddered.

As the orgasm slowly dissipated I dropped forward and rested for long minutes. I hoped, no prayed, that Sean was studying my bare backside. When I finally flipped to my back, it was so hard not to look towards that painted window. I was afraid even to smile as I might give him a notion that I knew he was spying....if he was? It occurred to me...... How was I going to know?

I culled up on my left side, my ass towards the painted window, leaving the bright light on, and went to sleep.

Sean

For the last three months, I had been able to spy on my mother and Ben fucking about a dozen times. Ben was not getting a lot of pussy, at least not my mom. And the lighting was never as good as the first time so that my imagination and what little vocal noises I could discern was the bulk of the excitement.

Now! through the scratch I had numerous times watched my mother in various stages of dress but I had never actually seen her without panties. If I caught her wearing just her panties, I felt fortunate. I wasn't getting a lot of pussy either, so masturbating while watching mom matching outfits and such was all the excitement I had to go with.

Funny actually, I shot my load once as she bent over to pick something up wearing just panties. I could see the fabric outlinig her pussy lips.

As you might imagine, yanking my cock while peeking through that tiny scratch was a feat in itself. But hell, I masturbated at least once a night, using a sock to catch my cum, and if I woke up to pee maybe twice.

Mom was 42 and I can only describe her as a plain Jane. She did little more than a little face powder and lipstick in the way of makeup, removing it promptly if she was home for the night.

At 5 foot seven, her shoulders and arms were slender. With a small waist, she seemed to blossom from the hips down, her ass and thighs appeared to be the bulk of her 143lbs. I use the term "blossom" because I'm describing the female anatomy and it's all good... right?

If she wore anything other than flat walking shoes, she appeared to be struggling with the lower part of her body, but a heeled shoe did give her ass a defined, cute little swish. Her breast, unleashed, I figured, would not be much bigger than a good handful.

Her lightly freckled face, very light skin and dark auburn hair, hanging to her shoulders and heavily curled, did little to enhance her appearance.

All this said, I was very much aware of her sexuality and the glances she got from the opposite sex in public. You could even say I was a little jealous.

This Sunday evening, I was lying in bed lamenting the loss of Ben. I hoped that mom would quickly find another boyfriend but she talked as if she was ready to write all men off.

I rolled my eyes up looking forlornly at the window and saw mom's light still on. What the hell, right?

I quietly maneuvered to my knees and, peeking through the scratch, was instantly aroused by seeing mom with her hands under the front of her black tank top manipulating her breasts. I am pretty sure my eyes widened when she slipped the top over her head and unsnapped her bra, tossing both to the floor.

I had been right in my assumption that her nipples were gorgeously large, appearing strangely out of place attached to those small tits.

We're halfway home I excitedly thought. I fumbled excitedly extracting my cock.

She reached to unbuttoned her white jeans and I gripped my cock hard as she pushed them off her wide hips, lifting each leg to extract each foot, kicking the jeans free. I had never seen mom abuse her clothes in such a manner. I marveled at her protruding ass during this exercise.

I nearly shot my load when her hand slid between her legs, and then I was rewarded with what I had been wishing for so long. She slipped out of her panties and stood before the mirror totally nude.

Home run! My view of her front was from the mirror and only partial, but I could without a doubt see that her mound was heavily forested. Heavily! It brought to mind, a joke about a girl getting a bikini wax and they had to send out for more wax. I found it totally intoxicating.

I felt like I was in a dream when she started to palm her pussy and play with her ass. I know I was feeling my heart pound as she slightly squatted repeatedly to give her hand access between beefy thighs. I pondered if her clit bore any resemblance to her nipples...... if it could be found in that dark auburn forest.

My heart fell when she stopped and walked to the bed table. I got a brief frontal view when she turned towards the bed but my gawk at her bush was negated to second place by the large purple dildo she held her hands, making me feel a bit lacking with its length.

I wish I could have had some input as to the position she took on the bed. I needed to back off of my ever building desire, so I settled to pinching and squeezing the domed head of my cock.

Mom was just getting started so I wanted to stay mildly excited to the end. My attention now was centered on mom's activities and nothing else mattered. The minutes slowed and I pondered what the lady in such a state of arousal would do should I walk in with my rock hard cock.

She picked up the dildo and put that thought to rest. I noted with relief that the dildo was not as thick as my cock and she did not take the length easily. From an onlooker's point of view she seemed a bit uncomfortable with the length, but maybe it was just me.

After long minutes, mom maneuvered to her knees and I happily began stroking my cock in rhythm with her ass as she rode the dildo, pushing deep on the downward thrust.

Long minutes more, then, a moan destined to increase in volume was quickly stifled as her body shook with orgasm. I could tell it was a strong one. With one strong thrust of her ass which I imitated, pushing my cock deep into her pussy, I shot my load all over my pillow again.

I lingered studying my mother's naked body as she slept and felt the pain of cramped muscles when I finally withdrew my eye from scratch.

Lauren

I guess you could say sanity won out and I stopped worrying about actually knowing without a doubt, hearing the confession so to speak, whether Sean was watching me are not.

Oh! Don't get me wrong I continued providing the enticement if he was indeed spying on me. It was a challenge not to give him too much complete nudity and bright lights while masturbating. But I had lots of lamps in my bedroom and I varied the lighting on a regular basis.

Yes. There were innuendos spoken in gray areas, sexually oriented but always shy of admitting anything. I did a lot of silly things like getting rid of my heavy housecoat and not being so careful about near nudity while moving around the appartment. Little things, like asking him to divert his eyes as I rushed by nearly nude. Silly things!

Taking a different tact, I guess you could argue, what is good for the goose is good for the gander, might be seen as proof. Again, Sean would have to confess to that too! Okay! It is still a quandary. Oh! The goose and gander?

After retiring one evening, lying in bed in total darkness.....I didn't preform THAT much! I thought I saw a dim light coming through the scratch.

It is amazing how central that scratch can become in one's life.

Anyway! In the beginning, I actually dismissed that dim light but my gaze kept returning to the scratch until I finally had to get up and get a closer look. The closer I got the more certain I was that there was some sort of light on in Sean's room.

I tiptoed up to the scratch, ever apprehensive that he might be looking back at me. I held my breath and peeked through instantly recognizing the lighted screen of his laptop computer. New to the spying game it took a moment or two of moving my head around until I had the whole picture, the triple X video streaming and my son pumping his cock as he viewed the movie.

You just can imagine the smile on my face as I watched. I was alternately entranced by the action on the screen and critiquing my son's cock. He was thick like his father and maybe a tad longer. I have had bigger and I've had smaller in the time since leaving his father. But the fact of the matter is..... it's what a man does with it that is important.

My hand found its way down the front of my panties, finding this spy game extremely stimulating. You can imagine the pain in the ass my bush is, but most men are intoxicated with it.

Again, I seriously hoped that Sean was really spying on me. And I have to admit, spying was fun.

Sean is a good-looking guy and I had no problem fantasizing about riding his rock hard cock. I soon ignored the video and concentrated my attention on his cock, desiring to see his ejaculation.

I watched his escalating climb up that erotic ladder of lust and it was not long before I was rewarded. His milky white cum shot high, dropping back down on his hand and belly. I lost sight of it as my own orgasm hit. I placed my hand gently on the wall to steady myself, breathing heavily.

I regained sight picture to watch him wipe the cum over his shaft, rubbing it into his own forest before gathering more from his belly.

Had he just glanced at the window? But he didn't. I began lookinng for that dim light, but, no, I didn't spy on him that often. I'm 42. Sure I enjoyed it and wanted it but not as often as a 19-year-old male.

The months turned in to two years.

I knew he wouldn't be around forever. He had his own life to live and talked about heading south again.

I had little desire for a flesh and blood man in my bed. I was content performing for Sean...... if he was "really" there. I came to believe he was!

I knew he was screwing at least one girl on a not so regular basis, but that didn't bother me. Him leaving would bother me. Greatly!

Sean

Sure, the question of "did" she know I was spying on her seeped into my consciousness occasionally. Her sexually colored nnuendos, I could point to, and her loss of modesty in her dress around the house.

When I first moved in, a heavy terrycloth housecoat was her mainstay when making breakfast, moving from bathroom to bedroom. But shortly after my spying began, she began to appear in long or short flimsy nightgowns, clearly outlining her panties, even showing color.

She even asked me a couple times to close my eyes as she ran past me topless from the bathroom to bedroom. Hell yes, I peeked.

A casual sexual banter began to ease itself into our conversations. Smartass remarks like, "maybe I should start hitting the doorbell before I climb the stairs". She actually asked me was I getting enough pussy from my girlfriend. She actually used the word "pussy". I did brazingly say, "No".

They are, you have to admit, pretty strong indicators. Hell, I don't know. Do I even care? It was all a plus for me. I was going to hate leaving.

To be continued