Over a year. Well over a year. Closer to two, since Hiroshi had even tried to touch her. Way, way longer than that since they had made love. He had never been very physically affectionate except initially and once she was pregnant with Daisuke the changes her body went through seemed increasingly to turn him off. It had become a distance between them that only grew wider as the years rolled on. But he was a good provider, and she had thought, a loyal husband.
Sakura's appearance befitted her name. Possessing the delicate beauty of the cherry blossom, and a naturally gentle disposition.
Sakura closed her eyes letting her fingers find their familiar way to her bush. She had worked hard to get her figure back after Daisuke's birth, and she was careful to remain fit once she had gotten it back. It was not unusual for men to hit on her, but she had always resisted. At 36 but feeling far older, she felt a cloying need that she wistfully and vainly hoped Hiroshi would recognize and fulfill.
Her fingers explored the moistened folds of her labia reaching inward to gather her honey and beginning to rub her clit. She let her mind wander. A man, a lover, faceless, yet familiar. He touches her with passion, making her body tremble with unbridled desire. She rubs harder and faster, rimming her hole every few strokes. She is almost there, a soft moan escaping her lips as she is plunged over the edge, stress melting away with the pleasure of her orgasm.
Daisuke peered through the slight opening in the doorway. It was not the first time he'd watched his mother masturbate. He knew the signs and had become attuned to them, reading the indication when it was there that it was probable that she was going to relieve herself in that way.
Although merely 18 and still technically a virgin, he knew how it worked. His friend Takumi's dad had given him some magazines. Not the skinny girls he'd dated in high school, but mature, delicious women, like his mom. And then there was the Internet. At Takumi's home, a couple of time's they'd watched some porn. Enough to know at least how things worked.
It gave Daisuke impure thoughts. He had tried to talk about it with his Father, but Hiroshi, had balked, looking uncomfortable and changing the subject. So, he'd asked Takumi's dad, who had told him about some of the basic ways to show a woman you're interested, and how to know if they're interested as well.
Daisuke put some of those things into action with his mom. At first out of curiosity, going out of his way to be helpful, doing random nice things for her, complimenting her appearance. Gauging her reaction, she always seemed appreciative of his small kindnesses toward her. He wasn't quite sure where he was going with this, or what it might lead to, but seeing her even marginally happier gave Daisuke a good feeling.
It also emboldened him somewhat.
"What's this?" Sakura had asked, taking the package from Daisuke's hands. It was gift wrapped.
"Just something I saw in a store. I thought you'd like it. So I picked it up after work." Daisuke replied.
Opening the gift she reached into the tissue paper and pulled out a top. It was satiny. It was skimpy. Sakura looked questioningly at Daisuke. "You want me to wear this?" She asked.
"Sure, I'm sure it'd look awesome on you. I knew it the second I saw it." Daisuke assured her.
"It's a little...scandalous, don't you think?" Sakura replied.
"You've got the figure for it, Mom. I think it'll really look perfect on you." Daisuke said. "Anyway, if you're too embarrassed to wear it in public, you could just wear it here."
She held it out in front of her. It was quite pretty. She couldn't think of the last time Hiroshi had bought anything for her. And her wardrobe was that of a simple housewife. "I'll think about it." She said, folding it and putting it back in the gift box.
Later in her room she tried it on. It was tight. The plunging neckline showed off her cleavage. Most of her boobs in fact, with her nipples clearly discernable through the sheer fabric. What was Daisuke thinking, she wondered. She cupped her breasts, raising them slightly. She couldn't help but feel the wetness starting between her legs. She did look hot.
It took a few days, but she finally worked up the courage to wear it around the house. Hiroshi just side-eyed her and cleared his throat. Daisuke found it hard to take his eyes off her, little left to the imagination about how she'd look topless.
Sakura was aware of Daisuke's stares. She knew it was inappropriate, but she was also flattered, and the frequency of her masturbatory adventuring had spiked from once in a while to a couple times a day if she could manage it. The top was soon in her normal rotation of clothes. She realized that it made her feel sexy, and a few times she caught herself acting in a flirtatious manner with Daisuke.
He was such a thoughtful son.
A couple weeks later Daisuke gave her the skirt. It was super short and clung to her like plastic wrap. It wasn't like anything she'd ever pick out for herself to wear, and she was sure that if she wasn't standing straight up that at least a portion of her panties would likely be on display.
In the blouse and skirt, in front of the mirror she smoothed her hands over her hips, feeling the soft fabric. She looked like one of those really expensive escorts. Somehow that thought really turned her on.
She had found Daisuke's stash of magazines and when she knew he was at work and she had some alone time, she'd leaf through a couple. Admiring the perfect women showing off their bodies so boldly. It made her horny, one hand turning pages, the other jilling off until she'd explode in a powerful orgasm.
Daisuke couldn't help but notice how Sakura's libido seemed to pick up, as he took baby steps down the path he'd finally decided on. He wanted his mother to be his girlfriend too. He wasn't sure how that would go over with her, or even how it word work if she wanted to, but he was determined to make his feelings known.
She held up his latest offering, a lacy black teddy, gorgeous but revealing in the extreme. Surely he didn't want her to model it for him, did he? She thought to herself.
"Daisuke, what do you mean by giving me all this sexy clothing?" Sakura said suspiciously when they were alone.
"Mom. I have a confession to make." Daisuke responded.
"Yes?" she prompted.
"Sometimes when you go into your room, the door drifts back open a little bit after you close it." He began.
"So?" she said.
"Sometimes I've seen what you're up to in there." He continued.
"Oh!" she responded.
"I've seen you play with yourself. And sometimes..." Daisuke began.
"What. What else." She demanded.
"I have some magazines. Photos of pretty women without clothes on." He said.
"And?" She feared where this was headed.
"I am careful to keep them in a specific order, and sometimes I go to look at them and they're out of order." Daisuke pointed out.
"Uh. Maybe your Father..." Sakura began.
"No." Daisuke said shaking his head slowly in the negative.
"How can you be so sure?" She rejoined.
