Sexy Mom Is Desperate

I was fed up with this. Once again George rolled over and turned his back to me. "Not tonight, babe," he mumbled, "I had a rough day at the plant; I need to get some sleep." Soon he was deep in slumber. I was wide awake.

I lay there, my frustration making me angry; just about every night it was pretty much the same story. I decided, while lying, frustrated, next to my husband, that I had to end these long spells of going without sexual relief.

I needed to find a substitute for my husband's constant lack of interest in me. What made me more pissed was my knowledge that he was conserving his energy not just for work, but for his frequent bowling sessions with his pals. It was not fair; I was thirty-eight, not fifty-eight. I needed sex.

Just those days I had noticed that Andy, my 18-year-old son, seemed to be spending an awful lot of time in his room lately.

I wondered if something was wrong, or if he and his girlfriend had a fight that made him seem so depressed.

He hadn't been out of his room all day, except to have breakfast and then, briefly, when I told him that lunch was ready. I decided that it was time for me to take some action, and that the two of us had to have a talk. I had no idea what it was that we had to talk about. I just knew that something was bothering him, changing his behavior, and that it had to be dealt with.

On one really, really hot summer day, I went to his door and started to tap gently, and then, thinking better of it, I simply reached down and turned the knob, opening the door part way.

He was laying on his bed, and he didn't know that the door was open, or that I was there. What I saw, I couldn't believe, but knew it to be true. Andy lay there naked on his bed, his legs spread wide.

His hand was wrapped around his hard dick, moving up and down slowly. I could see his impressive cock, sticking up in the air, his hand slowly stroking it from the base all the way up.

In his other hand, he held a magazine up to his face, the pages folded over. I could see a picture on the page facing me. It was a picture of a busty naked woman with sexy armpits and a hairy pussy.

My son, Andy, was looking at a girlie magazine, and masturbating to the picture of the naked model who appeared to be in her 30s.

I wasn't surprised, I wasn't shocked, dismayed, or anything like that. I was excited! I stood there, looking at his penis hanging between his legs, and all I could think of was what his balls would feel like in the palm of my hand, in my mouth, or pressing against me as he fucked me.

I slowly moved in and the movement must have attracted his attention. He lowered the magazine and looked at me. In a frozen moment, he just stared, and then sprang into action. He sat up and dropped the magazine in one quick motion.

"Mom, I, uh ---"

I smiled. I could see that he was red-faced and embarrassed. He looked at me, a look of terror on his face. Then, he seemed to notice that I was just not upset or angry with him.

"Andy, it's OK," I said, my voice betraying my sexual excitement. "It's OK, baby, you can play with yourself. There's nothing to be ashamed of in looking at pictures of naked women and masturbating to them."

"Oh Andy, I know how young boys wanna see beautiful women. That's the reason why stuff like Playboy and Penthouse sells and so many women pose for them. It's so natural for boys to want to see women absolutely naked the way they pose in Playboy. It's just so natural. Believe me that is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Tell me Andy, how often you masturbate," I asked him.

"Once or twice every night and then all night on Fridays," he said rather nervously.

"Andy, I want you to name five women worth seeing naked....the kind of women you'd love to watch naked if you have to masturbate."

"Elizabeth Hurley, Maria Sharapova, Krista Allen, Racquel Darrian and Kyla Cole.

I was glad that he was talking freely to me now. I was wondering what I was gonna do next.

To be continued....