I appreciate and thank all for the interest in this story; it was among my best received. For those who requested a second chapter I hope you find this long-delayed submission to your liking.
In Chapter 1 Todd's mother, an attractive libidinous soul married to a man whose passion is sitting in his recliner while watching professional wrestling, discovered her son was a peeping tom, and was peeping at their next door neighbor and her son.
As always, all story characters engaged in sexual activities are eighteen years of age or older.
* * * * *
As my son's shrinking cock slipped from my ass I felt his cum drip from my rectum; it was a delicious sensation. Milla and William had recently discovered the joys of anal sex; Todd and I, watching them, had also.
I turned to my son, kissed his lips, said, "That was fricking amazing."
Kissing me back he said, "She's getting up," and looking out the window I saw my neighbor stand, stretch her trim taut naked body, say something to her son, and hold out her hand to help him up. The two of them, pausing to turn off the light, walked hand-in-hand from the room.
They had fine butts.
We moved onto my son's bed - he and I'd recently picked out a larger firmer mattress - and he said, "Do you think they know we watch?"
"Possibly, they give us plenty of opportunities and it would be fun to do this for an audience."
"Maybe we should leave our lights on or do it in the backyard so they can see us."
"I've thought about that. The problem is that if they don't know we're watching and see us, then they'll know we can see them. Then they might make sure we couldn't."
"Yeah, you're right."
Throughout our conversation my hand had been working his shaft. He was hard again. I took him in my mouth.
* * * * *
Todd and I ended our kiss when my husband shouted, "Where are my keys?"
"Top drawer of your desk honey, where you left them."
Jangling those keys, ready to hit the road, he entered the kitchen, absentmindedly said, "Good morning," not noticing, as he never did, his wife and son's flushed faces. Handing him a cup of coffee fixed the way he liked - too much cream, too much sugar - I said, "Remember, I'm meeting Pamela on campus tonight, we're going to dinner. You two will be on your own."
My husband said, "Great. Todd and I can order a pizza and watch Impact Wrestling, Austin Aries is defending the title," and headed out the door.
When it clattered shut Todd and I checked the clock; we had time for a quickie.
* * * * *
Pam texted me, her lab was running late. Unfortunately it was Thursday, party night on campus, and the dorm's lobby was packed with college students working on tomorrow's hangover. I was looking for a peaceful corner when Angelina the Dorm-Mom, a striking graduate student of mixed Asian and Caucasian ancestry who lived on-site, spotted me and said, "Hello Mrs. Hooper, waiting for Pam?"
"Yes, her lab is late."
Looking around she said, "Why don't I let you in her room. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable there."
* * * * *
Both my daughter and her roommate Naomi were neat freaks, so I noticed the binoculars laying next to their open case. Underneath them was a sketch: three rows of rectangles sitting atop each other with notes in each box. I recognized Pam's handwriting, the other script must be Naomi's. Curious, I started reading.
Good god.
I turned to the window, looked at the dorm on the other side of the quad, and started counting windows. Once I realized the first room on each floor had only one window the number of rectangles in the sketch matched the number of rooms. The first two rectangles of the second floor, which was directly across from Pam's room, were labeled, "No action;" I recognized the third. Pam had called Ross Jones, a high school friend of Todd's, now a freshman at the university, "Nerdboy" as long as I remembered and here she'd written, "Nerdboy Jones, are you kidding?" The fourth box was inscribed, "Usually late," in the fifth, "Most every night, early," and in the final two rectangles, "Occasionally."
I turned off Pam's lights, picked up the binoculars, sat in the chair facing a window - I'd thought the set-up peculiar - took a deep breath and started down the row. The first two rooms were dark, the third's gauzy curtain obscured who was inside, although it sure looked like Ross, the fourth was dark, and then, "Oh fuck."
She, a beautiful blond, and he, a powerfully built, seriously hung, black man, were pounding their bodies into each other. The lights were on and curtains pulled back. They wanted to be seen, knew people were watching. Pam and Naomi weren't the only students with binoculars.
I was watching, fondling my breasts through my shirt, when my phone pinged. Pam was heading my way. I texted that Angelina had let me into her room, turned the lights on, put the binoculars back on the desk, cracked open the window to dilute the smell of my arousal, and texted Todd, "I need a late night coffee run."
My daughter found her sedate mother reading her Kindle.
* * * * *
"Todd, fuck your mother."
Our coffee in the console, my son was sitting in the passenger seat as I, in the reverse cowgirl, drove my body onto his dick.
He twisted my nipples, I reached for his balls; I came, my sex convulsing on my son's masterful prick.
Like he'd pounded her, Todd was pounding me, slamming his body into me. I came again.
Letting go of my breasts, he took hold of my hips, pulled me into him. He the puppeteer, I the puppet, my body bounced and shuddered on his cock. I came again, my gut contracted, we both came, his cum poured into me, and as his mother's cunt spasmed another load of sweet hot seed filled me and screaming, we both came again.
* * * * *
"Honey, can you bring me another beer?"
Todd said, "Don't worry Mom, I'll get it."
My husband was eating in front of the televison, Todd and I in the kitchen. I used to complain about it.
When Todd returned I ran my foot up his leg and said, "So how about it?"
