Mom Has Sex with Pierre & Big John

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Mom has Sex with Pierre & Big John

Twenty-two-year-old James catches his mother, Elizabeth, masturbating herself with her vibrator and dildo.

A long, hard day at the office, with her twenty-two-year-old son, James, not home and the house all to herself, Elizabeth relaxed. Seemingly with him a doting son who was willing to do anything for his mother, he was always home and she was seldom alone. Enjoying the quiet time and the privacy, she was glad he wasn't there and she was home alone. With him following her around from room to room, sometimes he more acts like a puppy than her son.

Every time he was around her, he stared at her, leered at her, and sexually lusted over her. Every time he was around her, he undressed her with his eyes. It was her fault for constantly and continually flashing him but, with her an exhibitionist and him a voyeur, she enjoyed showing as much as he enjoyed seeing. Yet, the fly in the ointment was that she was his mother, he was her son, and the flashing games they played were incestuous.

She'd take a relaxing, warm bath if Jimmy was home to help her. She'd have him draw her a hot bath, a soothing bubble bath, pour her a glass of wine, and have him put on some soft, rock music. She had become accustomed to him waiting on his mother. He was such a loving and attentive son.

Then, when she was ready to climb in the tub, she imagined giving him a sexy, flashing show. She'd enter the bathroom wearing nothing more than her short, sheer, sexy bathrobe, her flashing robe, as she affectionately called it. It was a robe that never closed all the way on the top or at the bottom. Whenever she wore that robe in front of him, if she wasn't flashing him her big tits, her areolas, and/or her nipples, then she was flashing him her brown, trimmed pussy. With her horny enough, daring enough, and brazen enough, she'd tease him by flashing him her breasts, her ass, and/or her pussy while he tested the water.

Flashing him was his reward for drawing her bath. As if he was her butler, while slowly, sexily, and seductively removing her robe, she allowed him a quick naked back and side view of her as she submerged herself in the tub of warm water. A quick flash before getting in the tub, something to give her fodder to masturbate over while taking her bath and something for him to masturbate over while she bathed, he was so easy to tease.

Judging him by his ever present and obvious erection, he was so easy to sexually arouse. If ever she was to give her son a hand job, she'd have him cumming all over her hand in just a few minutes. If ever she was to give him a blowjob, she'd have him cumming in her mouth even sooner than it would take him to cum when giving him a hand job. A good son, her special man, while making her flashes appear accidental, he was appreciative all that she deliberately showed him of her shapely, sexy body.

Imagining him at her beck and call and waiting on her hand and foot, as his voyeuristic reward, she'd have him deliver her a glass of white wine with her in the tub and with bubbles up to her neck. As if he had Superman's X-ray vision, she imagined him standing there staring down at her bubbles while trying to pop them with his stare. With him always hoping to see something of her that he shouldn't see, she imagined him engaging her in an endless and frivolous conversation just so that he could remain their longer while she bathed. With her always showing him something of her that he shouldn't see whether in an up skirt, up nightgown, down blouse, or down nightgown, as if he was her loyal, lapdog, she had him trained.

# # # Lady of Erotica # # #

If only he knew his mother was a whore with an erotic need, a sexual lust, and an incestuous agenda, she wondered what would happen then. If only he knew his mother enjoyed showing her tits, her ass, and her pussy to him and to all men, he'd never think of her in the same way again. If only he knew his mother wanted to have sex with him as much as he wanted to have sex with her, she wondered what he'd do. No longer the kind and loving mother he thought she was, she wondered what he'd think of her if he knew the sexual truth about her.

If only he knew his mother was an incestuous slut, no longer the modestly moral woman he thought she was, she wondered what he'd say. If only he knew his mother was an exhibitionist who enjoyed showing bits and pieces of her sexy, shapely body to men, he'd never think of her in the same way again. As long as her flashes appeared accidental, she was able to justify showing men all that they hoped and wanted to see of her. As long as her flashes appeared accidental, as long as her son didn't suspect she was deliberately flashing him, she enjoyed flashing him.

As long as her exhibitionism was quick and appeared accidental, as she did with any other man, she enjoyed flashing her son bits and pieces of her sexy and shapely body that he shouldn't see of his mother. She enjoyed giving him down blouse peeks of her long line of cleavage, the tops of her meaty breasts, and her low cut bra. When leaning over him to serve him breakfast and/or to pour him coffee, with her breasts at his line of sight, she enjoyed giving him down nightgown flashes of her breasts, her areolas, and her nipples.

Then, when sitting across from him, slowly, sexually, seductively, and deliberately crossing and uncrossing her long, shapely legs, she enjoyed giving him peeks of her bright, white panties. Finally, when laying on the couch with the hem of her nightgown raised while parting her shapely thighs just enough, she enjoyed deliberately giving him flashes of her trimmed brown beaver and her glistening pink, pussy lips. She acted like she didn't know she was showing him her bra, her panties, her breasts, her ass, and/or her pussy. A game she enjoyed playing, she wanted him to think that he was the pervert and not her. She wanted him to think that he was the pervert for looking, for staring, and for incestuously lusting over her.

'Oh, my God, flashing her son her tits, her ass, and/or her pussy never failed to sexually excite her,' she thought.

She became more sexually excited by merely thinking about flashing him again. Something that was so out of the question, of course she'd never have incestuous sex with her son. Yet, with him such a willing victim, nothing more than giving him something to masturbate over, it was fun teasing him by flashing him her panties, her bra, her breasts, her pussy, and her ass. It was fun to catch him looking, staring, leering, and becoming so sexually aroused.

With him such a voyeur and her such an exhibitionist, like mother like son, it was all just innocent fun between a sexy mother and her horny and sexually attracted son. If the most sexual thing she did with her son was to flash him her sexy body, what was wrong with that? So what? Big deal. As long as they didn't sexually touch and feel one another, there was no harm in her showing with him just looking and lusting, was there?

In the way that he continually stared at her, as if undressing her with his eyes, he made her feel so sexy, so wanted, and so sexually desired. As if she was the only woman in the world, he made her feel so special with his lustful stares. As if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, he made her want to show him her topless and/or naked body. Only, other than a quick flash here and a quick peek there, she'd never be so wickedly brazen to deliberately stand before her son topless and/or naked and show him her topless and/or naked body. Nothing more than a quick flash to make him wonder if she deliberately flash him or accidentally flashed him, she'd never give him a prolonged stare.

Alas, if only he wasn't her son, she'd suck him dry and fuck him silly. If only he wasn't her son, she'd parade around him topless and/or naked. If only he wasn't her son, she'd have him walk around her naked with his flaccid cock bobbing or erect cock swaying.

No doubt, in the way he stared at her and seemingly lusted over her, he'd have sex with her if she made the first move. No doubt, in the sexual way she thought about her son, if ever he made the first move, she'd have sex with him too. Yet, with him not home and not there to flash, instead of going through all the bother of taking a bath, she decided to get comfortable on her bed and masturbate herself.

# # # Lady of Erotica # # #

She removed her pantyhose and tossed them beside the bed on the floor. She hated pantyhose. Uncomfortably too loose or too tight, they never quite fit her right. It felt so erotically freeing to be relieved of her pantyhose. If she had her druthers, she'd never shave her legs again and wear jeans instead of a short skirt. Yet, there was something so sexy about a woman with long, shapely legs wearing a short skirt with high heels. On the price she paid were tired legs and aching feet.

Instead of removing her skirt, she hiked up her short, pink skirt to her waist. In case he happened to come home unexpectedly while she was masturbating herself and barged in her bedroom without knocking, she wanted to pull herself together quickly. The last thing she wanted was for him to catch her masturbating herself. Ready to masturbate herself, she removed her white panties and tossed them on top of her pantyhose. Now with her skirt hiked to her waist and with her not wearing panties, she felt so wicked. If her Jimmy entered her room now without knocking he'd see her pussy.

'Oh, my God,' she laughed to herself. 'How embarrassing would that be for her son to catch his mother masturbating? Knowing him, he probably thinks she was too old to masturbate and/or to even have a sexual thought. If only he knew his mother was a slut and an incestuous whore,' she thought to herself.

Suddenly, she realized that she wouldn't be embarrassed at all if Jimmy caught her masturbating herself, if anything, she'd be sexually excited. If anything, she wished she could masturbate in front of him while he masturbated in front of her.

'Oh, my God, how hot would that be to watch him stroking himself and to watch him cum? How hot would that be for her son to watch her sexually pleasure herself with her vibrator and dildo? What's wrong with that? It wouldn't be as if she was masturbating him and he was masturbating her,' she thought. 'They'd be masturbating themselves while just watching and looking. What was the big deal?'

She imagined her son catching her with her legs spread with her dildo buried deep in her pussy and with her bra raised over her naked breasts and her vibrator exciting her nipples. She fingered herself wet before reaching in her nightstand drawer to retrieve her two best friends. She removed her vibrator, Pierre, because it was made in France, and her dildo, Big John, because it was made in the United States.

'Oh, my God,' she thought. 'That's such a delicious thought to masturbate in front of my son while he masturbated in front of me.'

When she masturbated, lost in her sexual fantasy of mother and son incestuous sex, she thought of having sex with her 22-year-old son. When she rubbed her clit, she imagined stroking his cock. When she fingered her pussy, she imagined sucking his prick. When she played with her nipples as she masturbated herself, something that made her so very wet, she imagined her son making love to her before fucking her.

God, she was such an incestuous slut. God, she was such a whore for her son. If only her son knew his mother was such an incestuous whore, she wondered what he'd say. Only, nothing more than a sexual fantasy that she used when masturbating herself, she'd never cross the imaginary incestuous line by having sex with her son. Sexually teasing him by flashing him is one thing but she'd never go all the way. Even though she wanted to and wished she could, she'd never stroke his cock while fucking his cock and before fucking his cock.

'Oh, no. I can't do that. That was so wrong. That was so forbidden,' she thought while masturbating herself. 'Sex between a mother and son is illegal in many states and in some countries.'

Only, the mere fact that sex between a mother and son was wrong made it so right. The mere fact that incestuous sex between a mother and son was forbidden made it more intoxicatingly exciting. The mere fact that incestuous sex between a mother and son was illegal in many states and in some countries, made incest much more appealing. The mere fact that sex between a mother and son was forbidden in most religions made her want to play in the Devil's playground instead of being bored in Heaven.

If only her son would make the first move, she'd make all of the rest. Only, just as she'd never have sex with him, he'd never have sex with her. Why would he want to have sex with his old, wrinkled mother when he could have sex with any number of young, hot women his age? It was one thing for him to look at her, stare at her, and lust over her, especially whenever she was flashing him but he'd never have sex with his mother.

# # # Lady of Erotica # # #

She unbuttoned her blouse and flayed it wide open to expose her white, lacy, low cut brassiere. She looked down at her bra and, as if her hands were her son's hands, she felt, fondled, and squeezed her firm breasts through her bra. Sexually exciting herself, she fingered the big impressions her nipples made in the soft satin and cotton material. She loved how her breasts looked in her bra. With her breasts raised where they should be raised, her supportive bra made her look as she did more than twenty years ago, when she was a 21-year-old, young woman before giving birth to her son.

Then, as if raising the curtain on a stripper's striptease show, she lifted the bottom of her bra up and over her C cup breasts. With her big breasts free from the confining compartments of her brassiere, she felt her breasts while fingering her nipples. She loved her breasts. If she had to pick her favorite body part, it was her firm and supple breasts.

She was glad she was born with big, shapely, beautiful breasts. She felt sorry for women not blessed with big boobs and who wished they had a big set of tits like her amazing tits. Yet, even if she was born an A cup or even a shapeless B cup, she never imagined herself getting implants. Although, having no choice, she supposed she would if she was flat chested or if she had lost her breasts to survive breast cancer.

Taking stock in herself by taking an inventory of herself, she loved her lush, long, shiny, mahogany hair too but not as much as her firm and shapely breasts. Yet, if she had a choice to be bald or to not have tits, no contest, she'd be wearing a wig. Her third favorite body part was her bright, green eyes. She loved her green eyes. As if they were electric that turned on when she raised her eyelids, they made such a noticeable contrast against her dark, brown hair.

Where most brunettes had brown eyes, some had blue eyes, and others had hazel eyes, she had green eyes. As if she was their very own cat woman, their very own human pussy, men always commented and complimented her on her green, catlike eyes. They stared as much in her eyes as they stared at her big breasts and at the impressions her nipples made through her bra and clothes.

"Meow," she said while playfully swiping the air with her long, manicured fingernails as if they were claws.

She thought of her son, James, again. She was never sexually attracted to him until when he turned 18-years-old and started dating and bringing home women to meet her. Unless they're ready to marry and ask for his mother's approval, what son brings home a woman to meet his mother? Interestingly enough, as disturbing as it was complimentary, he brought home women who looked like her and women who could have been her daughter and/or his sister.

The women he brought home were all tall, leggy brunettes with big tits, and hazel eyes. If he could find a woman with green eyes, no doubt he'd bring her home too. Yet, green eyes weren't as common as were hazel, brown, or blue eyes. Seemingly, he was attracted to women who looked like her. He was sexually attracted to women who looked like his mother.

She wondered if while having sex with them, if he thought of having sex with her. She wondered if when kissing them, if he thought of kissing her lips. She wondered when they were stroking him and sucking him, if he thought of her stroking him and sucking him. She wondered when they were making love and fucking if he thought of making love and fucking his mother. Maybe the only way he could have sex with another woman was to imagine having sex with his mother.

'Oh, my God, wouldn't that be something if her son sexually wanted her as much as she sexually wanted him,' she thought while touching herself.

With him bringing home women who looked like her, she was jealous. As if she was possessive of him and wanted to get back some of his attention that she felt she had lost, she felt she was losing her son's interest to other women, women who were her physical clones. As convoluted as she knew it was, the jealousy and the possessiveness she felt enhanced the sexual attraction she had for her son. Something she couldn't explain and/or stop from thinking about, it was something that another incestuous mother who was sexually attracted to her son would understand. With him commenting on this woman and on that woman, that only made her want to reinforce her son's incestuous interest in her by flashing him even more.

# # # Lady of Erotica # # #

'Oh, my God, I'm so horny,' she thought. 'I can't wait to masturbate myself. With Jimmy not home for a while, I'll take a bath after I masturbate. Then, I'll wear my short, sheer, low cut nightgown while watching a movie and cuddling with him on the couch. He loves it when I cuddle with him on the couch while rubbing my nearly naked body up against him as if I'm a cat. If only he'd touch and feel me, I'd touch and feel him.'

She imagined herself cuddling up against her son on the couch. Every time they watched a movie together, with her wearing her sexy nightgown, he wore pajama bottoms without underwear. Always sometime during the night, as if taking a bow, his cock made a surprise appearance. Obviously, he hoped she'd reach out her motherly hand and touch him. Obviously, he hoped she'd reach out her motherly hand and stroke him. Obviously, he hoped she'd lean over him and take him in her hand before taking him in her mouth to suck him. Obviously, he'd love nothing better than to make love to his mother before fucking his mother.

'As if that would ever happen,' she thought with a dirty laugh while hoping that it would happen.

Yet, with his cock throbbing and pulsating against her, acting oblivious to his horniness, she pretended she didn't know he had an erection, which he always does whenever she cuddled him. Teasing him, she'd rest her forearm on the head of his prick and when moving her arm, she'd slowly, sexily, and seductively slide her elbow across it. Maybe after she had a couple glasses of wine, with her horny enough and incestuously wicked enough, she'd allow him to touch her and feel her where no son should every touch and feel his mother. Maybe after she had a couple glasses of wine, with her horny enough and incestuously wicked enough, she'd accidentally run a slow hand across his cock.

While thinking of her son feeling and fondling her big tits while fingering her nipples, she felt and her big tits while fingering her nipples. Immediately, her nipples responded by erecting themselves. Then, she turned on Pierre and placed the head of her vibrator along her clit as if she was holding her son's cock and rubbing it against her clit.

'Oh, my God, that feels so fucking good,' she thought.