Only Teasing Pt 01

Only Teasing

by Pan

Note: All characters depicted in sexual situations are over 18.

Chapter 1

Author's note: This tale is a tribute to the magnificent works of JAPA, which are (unfortunately) no longer on the archive.

A small thrill ran through me as I decided what I was going to wear that day.

The more mature part of me told me to wear the slacks. I was just going to be hanging around the house; they were smart, practical.

The obvious choice.

I dismissed that voice entirely, and chose the dress. It's not like it was

particularly

revealing...at least, not unless you wore it without a bra.

I didn't put a bra on. Panties, either.

Nothing wrong with that. After all...I was only teasing.

###

My son Cecil started getting headaches about six months ago. At first we thought it was a problem with his glasses, then his diet, then we were worried about stress...finally, we were referred to a specialist.

He couldn't work out what it was, but he did find a drug that got rid of them entirely. I can't tell you what a relief it was - ever since Cecil's father left, he's been the centre of my life, and seeing my baby boy in pain...well, it was almost as bad for me as it was for him.

Now, Cecil takes the pills twice a day and everything is back to normal.

He's been on the drug for three months now, and it's so lovely. Every time I see him, I can't help but smile.

And every time he sees me, he smiles as well.

That's what made me notice, actually. I was cleaning out the fridge, and I turned around to see Cecil watching me, an odd smile on his face.

"Hey boyo," I said, standing up and turning to face him. For a second - just a second - his eyes flicked down to my cleavage.

Nothing odd about that, of course. He's just a normal, healthy male, and...well, if I'm being honest, I have more than an average amount of cleavage to display.

What

was

odd was my reaction. Normally I'd just let it go, return to cleaning...but at the sight of my boy's reaction to his mother's breasts, I couldn't resist pulling my shoulders back, giving him something to look at.

After all,

I told myself.

It's harmless.

I'm only teasing.

To my delight, Cecil was unable to resist looking at the two perky (if I do say so myself) treats that I put on offer, and a huge grin spread across my face.

For the rest of the day, I was glowing. After all, I was only teasing. It's not like I had lifted my shirt up and showed him my bra...or what was underneath.

Pushing your boobs out slightly? That's totally harmless. Every woman does it.

I'm only 41, but it's been a while since anyone paid attention to my body...especially an eighteen-year old like Cecil. It was nice. It was validating - it showed me that the hours I'd put in at the gym lately weren't wasted, that taking care of my body paid off.

And, of course, it reminded me how much men like tits.

The next morning, making breakfast, I couldn't resist teasing Cecil just a tiny bit more. His eyes were on me as soon as he entered the room, and - just as I had the previous day - I pulled my shoulders back and put the girls on display.

Again, his eyes drifted down to them immediately, and again that warm glow filled my whole body.

I'm only teasing,

I reminded myself with a smile.

It's totally harmless - there's nothing wrong with an eighteen-year old boy checking out a sexy woman.

Sexy woman. I liked that. Me, a sexy woman. I was a sexy woman.

I was a sexy woman, and there was nothing wrong with a bit of teasing.

That afternoon, when Cecil got back from school, I decided to take it a bit further. I'd gone through my entire wardrobe to find the top with the most cleavage, and changed into it just before my son returned. Then, once he joined me in the kitchen, I poured myself a huge glass of milk and started to gulp it down.

A small part of me was worried that milk was too obvious a choice, but as soon as Cecil's eyes were on me, all my concerns faded away.

After all, I was only teasing.

Some of the milk spilled out the sides of the glass, dribbled down my face, and landed on my exposed bosom. I noticed Cecil's eyes widen as the white liquid dripped onto my generous cleavage, and the warm glow grew.

I was a sexy woman. No, more than that - I was a hot bitch. I was a hot bitch, and I could tell that I was turning Cecil on.

Nothing wrong with that,

I reminded myself.

I'm only teasing.

Finishing the glass, I glanced down at my milky tits.

"Whoops!" I said with an uncharacteristic giggle. "What happened there?"

Cecil's smile as I carefully dabbed at my boobs with a napkin kept me glowing all night long.

###

Blood rushed to my cheeks at my son's gaze, and I couldn't resist doing a little spin. The dress had definitely been the right choice - my only complaint was that it was a little longer than I would have liked, ending at my knees. My legs are my second-best feature, and I didn't feel like my current outfit did quite enough to show them off.

Of course,

I suddenly realized as Cecil stared at me,

I could go shopping. I could go shopping and buy some sexier clothes to wear around the house.

There's nothing wrong with dressing sexy for my son. I'm a hot bitch, and it's totally harmless.

Yes, I decided. I was going to go and buy something sexier for Cecil to see me in. After all, I was his mother - it wasn't like anything could happen.

I was only teasing.

Chapter 2

I almost swooned at the power of Cecil's stare when he saw the clothes I'd bought.

At the checkout and for most of the ride home, I'd been concerned that they were too much. As soon as my son laid his eyes on the outfit I'd bought, I knew that they'd been the right choice.

After all, it wasn't like Cecil had told me to buy them. That would have been weird, and wrong. No, I was an independent woman, who had decided - of her own accord - to start dressing sexier around the house.

I, and I alone, had decided to start dressing like the hot bitch that I was.

And I could see that my choices were having the desired effect - Cecil couldn't stop staring at my long, exposed legs, at the three-inch heels that I'd been unable to resist picking up, and the cleavage practically overflowing from my vest-top.

I'd realized that for more effective teasing, not wearing lingerie wasn't actually the best option: while I was at the mall, I'd picked up a range of pushup bras (with panties in matching colors - the pair I had on were slowly getting wetter at Cecil's lustful gaze).

I'm a hot bitch,

I reminded myself.

I want to show off my body. There's nothing wrong with that - it's only teasing.

I stood there, chest out, fingers itching to lift up my grey skirt and flash my son my panties (now

that

would be teasing) for almost ten minutes until I couldn't hold out any longer.

"I've got to go," I panted, and practically sprinted upstairs to my room...no small effort in heels.

I'm a sexy woman,

I told myself as I threw my body down on the bed and slipped one hand up my skirt. Something about Cecil's gaze had made me so

wet

, and I was unable to resist the temptation to get myself off.

"I'm a hot bitch," I muttered. "I'm a hot bitch who loves showing off her body."

My fingers quickly made their way underneath my panties, and soon I was shuddering in desperate orgasm. Only after I'd cum did I realize what I'd done - I'd been in such a hurry to get off that I hadn't even shut the door properly, and Cecil was standing just outside, staring straight at me.

For some reason, this didn't worry me.

So what if he sees me cum?

I asked myself.

Masturbation is normal.

I should cum in front of my son more often.

A smile slowly crept across my face, and I tried to act as though I hadn't even noticed Cecil standing outside the door. Bringing my hand up to my face, I loudly smelled my fingers, enjoying the scent of my own juices.

"Mmmmm," I moaned, shutting my eyes, hoping my son was still outside the door, still watching his mother. My other hand reached behind me to unzip my skirt, and soon I was laying on the bed wearing just my bra and panties, as I sucked my own cum off the tip of my fingers.

I'm a wet, horny slut,

I told myself.

But it's totally harmless. I should cum in front of my son more often - it's only teasing.

The urgency had worn off, and my second orgasm was more for his pleasure than my own. I slowly ran my fingers up and down my exposed skin, shivering at the contact, hoping Cecil was close enough to see the goosebumps forming, the blood rushing to the surface. I grasped my breasts through the bra, bucking my hips off the bed, and stroked my pussy-lips through my soaking wet panties.

It was more than twenty minutes later when I finally came again, two fingers slowly pumping in and out of my slit, my nipples threatening to burst out of my bra, and my ass red from where I'd been unable to resist spanking it.

When the red haze of orgasm passed, I looked up to find the hallway empty - Cecil had gone.

Laying there in the afterglow that you only get from truly good sex, a thought struck me.

What the hell was I doing?

I'm a wet, horny slut.

I'd just cum in front of my son - hell, more than that. I'd put on a show for him. I'd pulled my own hair, spent several minutes on all fours, spanking my ass as I squeezed my left tit so hard I could still feel it throbbing.

I should cum in front of my son more often,

I reminded myself...but no, that wasn't right. What I was doing was wrong. What I had done was

wrong

.

It's completely harmless.

Is it? I was sure that putting on a sex show for your eighteen-year old son wasn't normal, wasn't harmless. There was something seriously wrong, and it had to stop. Whatever I was doing, it needed to stop...starting with all the new clothes I'd bought.

I'm a hot bitch.

Maybe I could keep some of the new clothes. I just had to make sure that I wasn't parading around in front of my son in my underwear - it was important that Cecil saw me as his mother, first and foremost, and not some kind of...sex object.

I'm a sexy woman.

Admittedly, even in my old clothes, it must have been hard for Cecil to ignore the fact that his mother was...well, that his mother was stacked. I stood up, and looked at myself in the mirror. Even after so many years with them, I still sometimes impress myself with my tits.

I love showing off my body.

Obviously I could never again do...what I'd just done. But that didn't mean I had to dress like a prude. I had a fantastic body, and Cecil obviously appreciated it.

I love showing off my body.

Sure, he might have been my son, but that didn't mean he wasn't a hot-blooded male.

I'm a sexy woman.

I could hide my curves under clothing, but it wouldn't stop him from imagining what I looked like...or, after today's performance, simply remembering what was underneath them.

I'm a hot bitch.

No, it made sense to dress however I liked around the house.

It's completely harmless.

It wasn't like seeing the female form was going to do any damage to the kid. Let him see what a real woman looked like - it would prepare him for life, after all.

I should cum in front of my son more often.

And hell, I'm a hot-blooded female myself. Of course the attention of a man is going to turn me on...what was I meant to do, refrain from getting myself off?

I'm a wet, horny slut.

If Cecil happened to see me getting myself off, and if I happened to get off from showing him, what was the harm in that?

After all, it was only teasing.

Chapter 3

I had a lot of fun at dinner that night.

Cecil, to his credit, tried not to stare when I first sat down. But I could tell he was struggling, and as soon as I leaned forward, he lost the fight.

I was wearing this magnificent grey sweater that I'd picked up at the mall that day - it had been labelled as a "cleavage sweater" and I can assure you, it didn't disappoint. Combined with the pale blue pushup bra, I was impressed that my son's eyes didn't fall out of his body.

It's only teasing,

I reminded myself as he blatantly ogled me, the warm glow returning to my body.

It's totally harmless.

For the rest of the meal, his eyes never left my chest. As always, I did the talking for both of us - as Cecil wordlessly ate the delicious home-cooked meal I'd made for him, I talked about my plans for the week ahead, different options I was considering for meals, how often I was probably going to get myself off.

He almost choked on his chicken at that - I tried not to smile as his eyes widened in shock. Not that it would have mattered - his attention never left my copious cleavage, not for a second.

I'm a hot bitch,

I reminded myself. Proud of my sexuality, unashamed to be a woman.

There's nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk.

And maybe letting him know when he should come up to my bedroom door and watch me.

I should cum in front of my son more often.

As my son ate, I couldn't help but wonder if he was hard. Now

that

was an inappropriate thought for a mother to have...

My son is a healthy male. If he gets turned on by my body, that's totally natural.

Although frankly, it would have been more strange if he wasn't hard. After all, I was all but thrusting my tits into his face (now there's a thought) and he'd just seen me cum. Didn't it make total sense for that to turn him on?

Wouldn't it be stranger if he

wasn't

turned on by the sight of a pair of boobs? Especially a pair like mine?

I'm only teasing - it's completely harmless. I'm a hot bitch, and my son is a healthy male. I'm a wet, horny slut, and if he gets turned on by my body...that's totally natural.

If only there was some way that I could check. As I continued prattling on, teasing my son by telling him my favorite positions to masturbate in and the wicked thoughts that ran through my head as I did, I considered making an excuse to crawl under the table and try to spot his hardness.

Of course, it might not be visible. He was wearing cargo shorts, baggy ones - maybe his erection would get lost in the folds.

A sly smile appeared on my face as I worked out

exactly

how to tell if my son was hard. Slipping off one of the yellow high-heeled shoes I'd worn to dinner, I reached out with my stocking-covered leg and slowly moved it between Cecil's legs.

It's completely harmless.

If he gets turned on by my body, that's totally natural.

I had thought Cecil's eyes couldn't get any wider, but when he felt the touch of my foot between his legs, he somehow managed. It didn't take long for my toes to find his erection - as I suspected, he was totally hard.

My original intent had just been to check if Cecil was hard, but...

It's only teasing.

A grin appeared on my face, and broadened as my son's breathing grew ragged. We sat there in silence for a few minutes as my stockinged foot began slowly rubbing his erection through his shorts. I leaned forward, enjoying the effect that my teasing was having on Cecil, enjoying the throbbing glow that filled my body as I teased him.

I'm a sexy woman. If my son gets turned on by my body, that's totally natural.

I'm a hot bitch.

The silence stretched on, my heavy breathing the only sound that could be heard. After a few minutes, a thought struck me, and I realized how I could

really

tease my son.

There's nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk.

As I rubbed my son's crotch through his pants with the pale blue stockings I'd worn to match my bra and increasingly-wet panties, I started talking about my sexual fantasies again. How much I enjoyed the feel of a man's hands on my body, how easily I came when someone nibbled on my ear, how turned on I was by the feeling of hot breath on my throat...

I'm a wet, horny slut.

I considered telling him how wet I was at that very moment, how much I'd appreciate a hard cock between my lips, between my tits, between my legs...but I held off. After all, dirty talk was harmless - it was only teasing - but this was, after all, my son.

One had to draw the line somewhere.

As I spoke, my son was fixated on my lips, as they spewed such filthy words and ideas.

I love showing off my body.

It's only teasing.

I couldn't help but pout slightly, even as I told him about how sometimes I'd slip one or two fingers into my needy asshole when I got myself off. My tits were missing the attention of a young, healthy male.

I love showing off my body.

A wicked thought entered my head, and I started rubbing the front of my son's shorts faster and faster as my hands reached up, and began unbuttoning my grey sweater. My dirty words never slowed down as I shrugged off the sweater, until I was sitting in front of Cecil, topless but for my bra.

And my other foot slipped out of its shoe and joined the first in rubbing the front of his pants as I undid my bra, allowing the girls to fall into view.

It's completely harmless. It's completely harmless.

Cecil shuddered and twitched, his hips bucking forward as my grin widened.

If my son gets turned on by my body, it's perfectly natural.

It's only teasing.

As Cecil headed to his room to clean himself up, I couldn't resist a look at the wet patch that I'd caused.

God,

I thought to myself.

I'm a hot bitch.

Chapter 4

The next few days passed in a glow. I allowed myself all kinds of little thrills from harmlessly teasing my son - wearing short skirts and low-cut tops around the house, occasionally flashing a boob, letting him peek in at me as I got myself off.

After our little adventure at the dinner table, Cecil seemed quite fatigued. He didn't say a word for a few days, just threw me those cute smiles whenever I managed to catch his attention.

It was nice, having a harmless outlet for being the sexy woman I knew I was around the house. And every time I lay on my bed in the throes of orgasm, knowing - or at least hoping - that Cecil was peeking in on me, I would remind myself of what a hot bitch I was.

At the same time, I was careful to never cross the line. I was his mother, after all - sometimes I'd sneak up behind him, and whisper all sorts of filthy things in his ear, but that was only teasing. I made sure that we never went too far.

My son was a healthy male, and it was perfectly natural for him to get turned on by my body - especially since I enjoyed showing it off so much.

Sometimes I felt like I should cum in front of him more often, but there's only so many times one can get off during the day - even a wet, horny slut like myself.

Then, one day, Cecil came home from school, and he looked...I don't know, rested. Energetic. He stopped to appraise my outfit - I was wearing white thigh-high stockings, and a pleated green dress which ended about a foot above my knee. When I did a little spin (as I did often - I love showing off my body) it would reveal the rose low-waisted panties I had underneath.

He smiled, and the warm glow began throbbing within me with an intensity that I hadn't felt for days.

My son is a healthy male,

I was pleased to notice.

My son is a healthy male...and he has needs.

I mean, he wasn't the only one. I was a wet, horny slut, and the only action I was getting was my own hands, bringing me off a few times a day while my son (hopefully) watched.