Are you in the shower?" Mom shouts through the closed bathroom door.
"Yes!" I shout back.
I wait for a follow-up like "please, be quick" or "don't use all the hot water" but when there's nothing but silence, I get back to what I was doing -- closing my eyes and trying to decide which fantasy from my memory banks to jerk off to.
Perhaps a tried and true one involving Miss Stokely next door -- a MILF if there ever was one -- or her equally hot daughter whom I've secretly fawned over since the day she moved back in with her mom. Or maybe I should conjure a new one with my newest inspiration, my math professor at the community college with her fiery red hair and piercing emerald eyes that bore into my soul every time I'm late or daydream during class. Or maybe-
"Are you decent?" Mom asks a moment later and not only does the fact she's still there startle me, but the utter stupidity of her question throws me for a loop.
How could I be decent if I'm in the shower? Does she think I'm still clothed or something? Believe me, I'm not.
I'm not only stark naked; I'm sporting some serious morning wood that I was just about to tend to. I even have my hand soaped up and wrapped around the shaft with a very impatient one-eyed monster glaring back at me.
I haven't gotten off since yesterday's morning ritual and I'm desperate for release. Hell, I could shoot off in under a minute if she'd just leave me alone.
"Will, I asked if you're decent," she says again.
"No, Mom!" I snap. "I'm definitely not decent!"
"Okay. I'm coming in," she declares, somehow mishearing every word I just said.
"I said I'm NOT decent!"
The door handle jiggles and my heart skips a beat, until I remember having locked the door.
"Sorry, sweetie. I can't wait," she calls. "I have to use the toilet."
The handle jiggles some more then goes quiet. I hold my breath (and my hard-on) and listen intently until I hear her padding away down the hall. I exhale in relief.
But when she returns a scant few seconds later, it dawns on me where she disappeared to. She only went to fetch a Q-Tip from the linen closet so she can break off one end and pick the lock. It's a skill she learned from the times I used to lock myself in my bedroom to avoid discipline, only to earn an extra punishment for attempting to evade the first one, usually in the form of a spanking.
Yeah, that happened a lot, though I don't think I was a 'bad' kid. I was just a little mischievous and liked to pull pranks, even if I wasn't very good at them. Mom, on the other hand, was very good at thinking up punishments to ensure I'd never try to pull any particular stunt twice.
Like the time I found my sister, Lucy, skinny dipping in our pool with her college girlfriends. I thought it'd be funny to steal their clothes and wait for their reaction, until Mom caught me hiding behind a lounge chair holding four bikini swimsuits and a shit-eating grin.
To teach me a lesson, Mom let them make me do a series of buck-naked dives from the board while they gave me scores like in the Olympics. Mom ended up leaving before I started sporting a boner, so she missed the part when the girls really pressed their advantage. And the worst part was I never even saw a nipple.
Or the time I left a webcam in Lucy's bedroom and pointed it toward her bed, barely even disguising it, so she'd think I was spying on her.
I wasn't, by the way. I never even turned it on. In hindsight, I might as well have, considering the punishment I got. Because Mom made me set up the webcam in my room to 'see how I liked it', pointed it at my bed, and then kept it live-streaming on every TV in the house for an entire month.
Long story short; I eventually forgot it was there and, since I prefer sleeping naked, Lucy got some humiliating recordings of me and not only when I was sleeping. She then showed them to her girlfriends and, to this day, Lucy's friends still tease me every time they come over.
Or the time I discovered Dad's collection of vintage porn hidden in his man cave and I locked myself in my room to watch them. Stupid me, though, I'd never used his ancient combo TV/VCR thing before so while I was polishing my knob with my noise-cancelling headphones on, thinking I had it connected via Bluetooth, it was actually just blaring from the TV's speaker so loud Mom could hear it from the kitchen.
After confiscating the tapes and tv, she admonished me about objectifying women, made me take my door off its hinges and store it in the garage, railed at Dad for an hour about the porn stash that he'd promised he'd gotten rid of (at least three times prior) and then she kicked him out.
So, yeah, that one ended badly for everyone and I still feel really bad about it.
Come to think of it, that was the last time Mom had to use the Q-Tip trick, since there was no longer a need once I lost 'the privilege' of privacy. I try not to think about how many mornings Mom leaves her room now and catches an eyeful through my open doorway.
Since that day, though, my morning releases aren't just a ritual, they're the only thing keeping me sane, because I'm eighteen years old, my hormones are raging, and I'm literally always on edge.
Oh, and I'm a virgin. Have I mentioned that yet? So, yeah. It's not just my hormones running wild but my imagination, too. I wonder all the time what it'll be like to see my first naked girl, to touch her, to taste her, to learn how to please her, and what it will be like when I finally-
The tell-tale sound of something being inserted into the keyhole jerks my attention back to the present.
"Mom, no!" I shout, but it's too late. Half a second later, the lock button pops out, and I watch in horror as the handle begins to twist.
Before I can think what to do, the door swings open and in walks Mom, rushing to the toilet with barely a glance in my direction.
"I'm naked! Get out!" I screech.
Probably a bad idea to call attention to the one thing I don't want her to notice, but I'm in a panic and not thinking straight. Thinking, in general, isn't my strong suit anyway, but under pressure like this, my 'thinker' turns to mush.
"I've seen you naked," she says as a matter of fact, she glances at my crotch and does a double-take before forcing her gaze upwards to my face.
"Not in the shower," I protest, but what I'm really thinking is 'not when I'm masturbating!'.
"Ignore me, honey. I just have to pee."
Ignore her? Really? Ignore her? I need relief so bad it hurts and I was so close to making it happen. Now, I'm not only horny; I'm beyond frustrated, too.
"But it's my time," I whine, not even caring how childish I sound.
"Honey, it's an emergency. You know I'd never barge in unless I absolutely had to."
"But... Mo-om... It's my time," I whine again and, I swear, the only way I could act any more juvenile is by stomping my feet, but that would probably be unwise in a wet soapy bathtub.
"I said I'm sorry, honey. It's not like I can go outside and pee in the bushes like you."
"I... w-what?... I don't... d-do that." I totally do that, and sometimes not just because Mom has commandeered our only working bathroom.
I have no idea why I do it. It's not like I couldn't just wait most of the time. Maybe it kind of feels like a prank? An extra naughty one, at that?
Regardless, I didn't know she knew about it. How could she? I only go behind the big lilac bush where no one can see me, out of sight from our neighbors' windows and our security cameras even.
"Sweetheart, please. You go right outside my window. You had to know I'd eventually notice a young man pulling his penis out right in front of me and peeing in plain sight." Again, she glances at my crotch which I still haven't managed to cover up.
"Huh?" In my mind's eye I picture the layout of our house, and after several, way too long seconds I figure out she's right.
"Mom? Oh my god!" And this is why I couldn't go away to a real college like Lucy and instead I'm taking remedial math classes at the local community college and still struggling to pass them. Sometimes, I'm a little bit slow on the uptake. "The lilac's outside your bedroom?"
My question draws her attention away from my nether region and she blushes, as though she's finally been caught stealing glances of my private parts. Too bad for me, I'm still too brain-dead to realize I'm doing nothing to hide my tumescent soapy manhood from her view. In fact, I'm still holding it, practically pointing it at her face and daring her to look at it.
"M-mom, does that mean you've seen my... um... m-my... y-you know?"
"Your cock?" Her eyes dip a split-second before returning.
"Mom!"
"Sor-or-or-or-ry," she says with sass, adding way too many extra syllables to the word. "Should I have said 'dick' instead? Or maybe just stuck with a basic 'penis'? Well, it doesn't matter how I say it, honey, because the answer is yes. You must know I've seen it... It would be way too hard to miss, don't you think? Get it? Too hard to miss?" She cackles at her own joke, which -- if you ask me -- isn't the least bit funny.
Then I wonder what she means. Like, what is the difference between a penis and a cock? Is it just a penis when it's super soft but a cock when it's hard? What about a dick, then? But she said she's seen them all?
"Um, Mom?" I ask nervously. "W-what do you mean you've seen... um... I mean... Have you seen me with an e-... an er-... erm... an... an..."
"An erection?" Mom intervenes, oh so helpfully.
I gulp, dreading what this could mean. And yes, I do see the irony of asking such a question while I'm unwittingly flaunting my erection in her face, but that's not how my brain works. Or doesn't work?
Regardless, you see, what I haven't mentioned yet is that I don't only use the lilac bush as a cover to take a piss.
Sometimes, when I'm all worked up and my lack of a bedroom door keeps me from doing it on my bed (like normal eighteen-year-olds do), I... you know... 'take care of things'... outside.
I'll scan my surroundings and, if the coast is clear, I'll close my eyes, imagining the aroma from the lilacs is a pretty girl's perfume. I'll take myself in my hand and start stroking, fantasizing about who my first will be. I'll edge myself until my balls are heavy, and the arousal in my manhood swells in waves, and my nipples start to tingle and turn hard in the open air. I'll take my time as I run through all the far-fetched possibilities.
I'll imagine Miss Stokely catching me peeping on her. Or her daughter, Eliza, finally noticing me now that I've gained some muscles from my summer landscaping job. Or I'll imagine my short-tempered math teacher, Miss Shanessy, finally getting tired of me daydreaming in class, reinstating corporal punishment at the junior college, and spanking my bare bottom in her office while in draped over her lap. And then, when the other teachers hear about the new rules, they also try to correct my behavior by making me...
"Oh, no. Now, look what I've done," Mom says apologetically, interrupting my secret adolescent fantasies.
My eyes shoot open as I'm ripped from my reverie. Through the glass I see her staring back.
"Sweetie, I don't mean to embarrass you. Although, you should try to be more aware of your surroundings, especially when you expose yourself in public like that?"
Did she just smirk when she said that? That's at least twice now she's smirked at me. And why does it always seem she's glancing upward to my eyes, like my fly is open and she's not telling me because she thinks it's funny. I hate when I get this worked up -- so freaking horny I can't make sense of things, like all my thoughts are floating in fog.
"Th-that's not p-public," I say pitifully. "It's just our b-backyard. No one can see me. And I always check before I..."
That's when it hits me -- just enough clarity to understand that the unthinkable might be true.
"M-Mom? I... Oh, God!"
I run the scenarios through my mind. Not only the countless times I've pissed outside her window, but all those other times, too. The times I openly presented myself, naked and erect, to the cloudless sky, the warm Florida breezes, and the pale yellow glow from our landscape lights, and never once realizing it was to Mom's gaze, as well.
I run both my hands through my wet hair, wishing it could all be a bad dream. With neither hand on my dick, I'm unwittingly presenting myself all the more like some male stripper on stage or shameless flasher in the park.
It's not easy to gaslight yourself, but I give it a try anyway, telling myself it's not so bad.
She probably only glanced. Then she realized what I was doing and didn't want to embarrass me, so she just quietly walked away and never actually looked. She probably knows all boys do this kind of thing at my age, so it's not even that big a deal. I mean they do, right? Or maybe they don't? Am I a degenerate freak?
Well, if I am, it's her fault. She's the one who took away my privacy. She has to know boys -- I mean, young men -- my age can't have just one release per day. We're talking about the relentless sex-drive of an eighteen-year-old male here.
Now, because of her decision to take my door, I'm horny all the time. This is what happens when you take away your son's ability to give outlet the insatiable passions flowing mercilessly through his body.
Now my obsession with finding relief is so out of control that I've even started doing it outside during the day, tempting fate like a fool.
Has my folly caught up with me at last? How many time has she seen me? Has she seen me every time? Has she seen me actually shoot off? Oh god, has she ever stuck around to watch me on purpose?
I slam my eyes shut, hoping when I open them, she won't be there, but nope, she's still there.
Okay, then. Maybe this is a hallucination. That's a thing, right? But the trickling sound of her peeing tells me it isn't and my eyes dart straight to the source of the sound.
I stare unblinking at the mysterious triangle between her legs, unable to see details but imagining them just the same. All the 'parts' I learned about in Sex Ed way back in middle school but have yet to see in real-life are right there, barely three feet away.
I know the general anatomy of a female, by the way. I might be a virgin but I'm not completely clueless. Images from dad's porn stash are seared into my brain, even though Mom was so quick to break in, I barely watched half of the very first scene.
There was also the time I shoplifted a Playboy from the corner gas station. But once again, Mom caught me after I'd barely cracked the cover. Then she humiliated me by making me not only return it but also apologize to the clerk on duty. My only consolation was that the man behind the counter seemed as embarrassed as I was.
But this... this is the closest I've come to seeing a woman's secret parts in real-life and, even though it's my own mom, the throbbing in my loins grows stronger.
It's the same pulsing thrum I have every morning when I wake up. The same one I get at night but have to ignore since Mom took my door away and I might as well be in the hallway.
It's the same cruel rhythm that overtakes me when I'm in the general vicinity of virtually any pretty female, only heightened. But why am I feeling it now and so much stronger, in the presence of my own mom? I mean, Mom is objectively pretty. There's a reason why my classmates in high school used to call her a MILF. But still...
"Ahem," Mom croaks and I have to shake my head to refocus.
She's staring at me again, a closed-mouth grin that has one corner of her lips slanted higher than the other. It's a sultry look that reminds me of the hotties in Dad's magazines.
A flash flood of arousal rushes down my spine and pools heavily in my loins. Oh god, I realize. I'm turned on by my mom?!
I track Mom's gaze downward until I'm staring at my own cock. Yep, it's a cock, alright. I realize that now. It's most definitely not a penis or even a dick. It's obscene and indecent and ready to blow.
I shriek like a little girl and, finally, try to hide my privates behind my hands. But there's no way to conceal everything when I'm this far gone.
I try positioning my length behind my arm, but the vengeful purple head pops out the side. I cover my cock head with my other hand but then my balls are exposed.
No matter what I do, I'm indecently presenting myself in a full state of arousal... to my mom. And for some reason, seeing that she's actively looking makes my arousal spike even higher, straight into the stratosphere.
My mind is a-jumble, but I finally get the idea to turn around so I'm not facing her. But even that turns out badly.
"Now there's a view I haven't seen in a while," she says teasingly. "Wow! What a firm, tight ass you've got now. Your summer job has done wonders for your physique, Will."
"Mom!" I yelp, turning to face her again, just in time to watch her pull a square of toilet paper from the roll and guide it between her legs.
I go silent, mesmerized again by little more than the prospect of seeing something. I watch intently as she wipes herself and drops the tissue in the bowl.
My surprise turns to disappointment, though, when she turns her hips to the side just enough that my first real-life glimpse of a woman's secret garden is stolen away. But what a glimpse it was while it lasted -- a perfectly manicured triangle, pointing the way for desperate souls like mine to the promised land I've been seeking since the curse of puberty was cast upon me.
"Will, are you okay?" I hear her ask but my blank, lustful eyes are still transfixed on her nether regions, and my impure brain fog has returned in full force.
Apparently, I've locked on harder than I realize because it's not until she pulls up her silky pajama bottoms that I finally blink and the cloud begins to lift.
I look away, ashamed of my behavior and inability to contain my unwholesome thoughts.
"I have to say, sweetheart, I don't know what's cuter. That yummy fine ass of yours or how much you're blushing right now trying to hide your cock from me."
"Wh-what?" I ask.
"I said it's cute how you're trying to hide your hard-on from me. Listen, I'm sorry I interrupted your private time. I truly am. I know how important it is to let you get relief every once in a while. And it looks like you were close? Like, really really close. I feel terrible, honey. I do."
In an instant, my brain reboots and races to full power. "N-no. Mom, I- I didn't... I don't! I... I w-wouldn't do that... I mean..." Okay, so my brain on full power is still an incoherent mess.
"Sweetie, it's okay." She chuckles, as though my inability to form words when I'm flustered is just one more cute thing her precious little boy does that amuses her. Like when I first discovered my penis and asked her why I had a tail on the front of my body. Or when I ran crying into her room the first time I started getting an erection because I was afraid it wouldn't stop growing like Pinocchio's nose. She chuckled then, too, and in the same exact way.
"It's only natural, Will," Mom continues. "Nothing at all to be embarrassed about, not with all those hormones coursing through your poor defenseless body. It's got to be so hard, erm, I mean, difficult. So, I'm not upset, honey. Honestly."
"You're n-not?"
"Sweetie, of course not. Plus, it's nice to know I can get a rise out of a handsome young man still. Even if it is from my own handsome boy. I mean, that is because of me, isn't it?"
"M-Mom. I'm s-sorry. I didn't mean to... I just... I c-can't help it sometimes."
"Honey, I said it's okay. But you really should take care of it. It looks downright painful."
"T-take c-care of it?"
"Sweetheart, Miss Stokely's coming over for tea soon, remember?"
I can't help it, but the mere mention of Miss Stokely causes my dick to lurch.
"Interesting," Mom says with a grin.
Then, on seeing her smirk, I feel my cock jump again.
"Anyway, we're going to run out of hot water if you don't take care of it soon and then you won't get another chance till tomorrow, will you? Unless you find some time to sneak to the lilac, of course," she says with a sly wink. "Better if you tend to that sooner, though, don't you think?"
"S-s-s-sooner?"
"Yes dear. Like, now."
"N-n-now?" I must stand there several seconds while my brain crashes and reboots again because the next thing I know, Mom's talking to me again, except now, she's sitting on the closed toilet lid and facing me.
"Honey, you know I've seen you naked. I've seen you soft and I've seen you hard. I've even watched you jack off and, yes, I've seen you ejaculate." She puts the last word in air-quotes as though that was the naughty version of the word.
"E-e-ejacu...?" I stammer.
"Cum, baby. I've seen you cum. I was trying go easy on you."
"Y-y-y... y-y-you... h-have?"
"Yes, baby. Countless times now, right outside my window, remember? I've literally seen it all, so there's really no reason to hide it anymore. Is there?"
She seems to be mulling something for a few seconds, then finally says, "That's it. Enough of this. Move your hands, William. Move your hands and let me see you."
"But..."
"Move your hands, honey. I can't bear to see you tormented like this. In such agony, and for no good reason."
"B-but I'm... I've got a... it's..."
"I've already seen it, remember? Now, stop being shy. I'm your mother. Just move your hands and let me see it. Before the water goes cold. Come on, now. Do as I say."
"But M-Mom..."
"Now, William. Move your fucking hands right this instant!"
I move my hands and let them hang by my sides, unsure what else to do with them. My cock flips up and slaps my belly, bouncing only once before settling straight as a flagpole and as hard as a train track.
"Mmmm," Mom purrs. She shifts forward on the toilet, closer to the glass shower door. "Now, grab it with one hand, Will. Go on. No. Don't try to hide it again. Just wrap your hand around it."
I must be hypnotized because I do what she says without argument or hesitation. It's like an out of body experience where I'm a spectator of my own debauchery.
"That's it, baby. Make a fist now. Yes, just like that."
I look down and see that I indeed have my fist wrapped around my cock. The head is purple and angry, in stark contrast to my hand, which is nearly as pale as the rest of me.
"Now stroke it, honey. Go on."
I look back at Mom. Her eyes are heavy-lidded. She's biting her bottom lip. My hips thrust forward at the sight, and I nearly hit the shower door with my erection.
"That's it, baby. Up and down."
I slowly start to stroke myself.
"Yes, just like that. That's a good boy."
I increase my rhythm, just a little. My senses are still muddled, yet I'm beginning to understand that this really is happening.
"I remember the very first time I caught you peeing outside my window," she says.
My eyes grow wide as embarrassment washes over me.
"Did I tell you to stop?" she asks but it's clearly rhetorical, which is really quite fortunate considering I've lost the ability to speak. "Keep stroking yourself, William. I did not give you permission to stop."
Her tone makes me shrink -- I don't mean down there, but in my chest -- like I've just been scolded by a former school teacher and gotten myself in trouble again.
"That's it, baby. Keep doing that. Yessss... just like that. Hmm."
I've resumed my stroking, deliberately slow for fear I'll spurt all over the glass, right in front of Mom's face, and then she'll see what I've done and how perverted I've become, and boy, will I be in big trouble then!
"As I was saying, the first time I caught you peeing..."
I pause mid-stroke but quickly remember her reaction last time, so I start up again.
"I admit, I was shocked so I hid behind the curtains, too scared to move. I was so afraid I'd embarrass you. Plus, I knew you only did it because I was hogging the bathroom that morning... Keep going, honey. Don't slow down."
Oh, God, this is crazy. Is this happening? Is this for real?
"The next time it happened, though, I hadn't been in the bathroom. There was no reason for you to go outside. And of all places, you chose to go right next to my window?"
"I d-didn't know it w-was..."
"I know, sweetie. I know. But can you imagine my surprise?"
"I'm s-so s-sorry, Mom. I'm s-so stupid. I-"
"Huh-uh," she interrupts. "None of that, young man. You're not stupid. You're one of the smartest people I know. You just need a little help sometimes is all. And, oh, how your poor body has been tormenting you with hormones, am I right?"
"Oh, g-god, Mom. I f-feel like I'm gonna explode s-sometimes," I admit. "It's so em... embarrassing."
My shaft feels less lubricated in my hand, like the soap is drying out and turning sticky.
"Get your hand wet," Mom says, recognizing my dilemma. "Just a little."
I splash my hand beneath the shower head and without thinking bring it back to my waiting cock.
"That's my good boy," Mom says. "I didn't even have to tell you to start again."
When she smiles proudly, I feel warm in my chest.
"After your second visit, I started wondering how often you did it -- sneaking out to my window and showing yourself off to me like that."
"But I d-didn't... I didn't know... I... I wasn't sh-showing... n-not on purpose!"
"Shhh," she silences me with a smile. "I started noticing how you rarely use the bathroom anymore. So, I...," she clears her throat before continuing "Well... I did something I'm a little ashamed of. Something not so good-motherly of me. I started looking forward to your visits."
"You d-did?" I ask as my dick swells in my hand.
"I did," she admits. "You pee a lot, by the way. Not just the amount, either. I mean you do it often. You sometimes visit the lilac three or four times a day. It's a good thing there's so many blooms on that thing or it might be pretty stinky by now."
"S-sorry," I say meekly. I've never thought about that. "I'll s-stop."
"Did I say you should stop?"
"Um... n-no?"
"Then, there was the time when you came to visit me after I was already in bed. I thought you were in bed, too." She looks me in the eye as if testing me, to see if I know what occasion she's referring to yet.
"The house was dark. The lilacs were blooming and there was such a beautiful breeze that night I decided to open my window a crack so I could smell the lilac and hear the crickets outside. I was nearly asleep when I heard footsteps in the mulch. It was you. Open your eyes, sweetheart."
I don't even remember closing them, but I do as she says. When I open them, she looks me in the eyes and asks, "Do you remember?"
I shake my head because, honestly, I'm lucky I can remain upright. I'm not sure I have the ability to do more.
"You were naked, William."
"N-naked?" I ask, as though I'm listening to a story involving someone else.
"Au naturel," she confirms. "Not a stitch on you from your head to your toes."
A second later, the memory fills my mind. It was the first time I'd done it. The very first time I jerked off outdoors. I was so freaking horny that day I was losing my mind. I had been lying in my bed, naked as usual, and every time I shifted, the sheets would slide across my hardness and send a thrill across the taut, sensitive skin down there.
I was in absolute agony because I knew Mom had only then gone to bed and if I tried to rub one out in my room, she would have heard me. With her room across the hall and me having no door, there's no way I could have kept quiet enough once I started to climax. You see, I get vocal when I'm close and it's a bit obscene when I actually cum. Not loud necessarily, but the sounds that escape my body make it unmistakably clear what I'm doing. There's simply no way to hide it.
"As soon as I heard the footsteps, I just had to get up to investigate, and there you were. I wasn't even scared of it being a prowler," she says. "Because I just knew it would be you. But naked? Well, that was a new surprise. Do you remember what you did next?"
I swear her eyes are smiling when it hits me. It must be written on my face because I most definitely remember.
"You scooted up to the bush and looked around. It was so cute how careful you thought you were, scanning all around, everywhere except my window."
I feel myself stroking faster as I remember.
"I looked around, too, because I was wondering where your clothes were. Where were they, Will?" she asks as though she genuinely wants to know.
My cock expands in my fist as I try to answer. "I l-left them in m-m-my r-room."
"Do you mean to tell me you walked naked through the house?" Mom asks excitedly.
"Y-y-y-yes," I say with a bashful shrug.
"Weren't you afraid of getting caught?"
"I w-was... I... I was s-so worked up... I d-didn't c-care... S-sometimes... I just have to..." I feel my cheeks turn hot from embarrassment.
"Oh honey, does it really get that bad?"
"M-Mom, it's unbearable," I blurt. "Sometimes, I can't... I... I can't..."
"You can't what?"
"S-sometimes, I can't take it. I just have to... y-you know... anywhere... everywhere... I just have to make it go away."
I'm pumping much faster now, my need growing stronger. I'm as hard as a train track now and the slick soapy water is doing its job.
On the upstrokes, when my thumb hits my tip, a thrill shoots through me so raw and almost violent it makes my knees wobble. While the powerful down-strokes only stoke the furnace in my aching balls ever hotter.
"So, you sneaked through the house naked? That's very naughty of you, by the way. Mmm... But how did you get outside without the cameras picking you up? Keep your eyes open, please," she admonishes.
I open my eyes and -- God, I can't believe this is happening -- Mom's gaze is volleying between the expressions on my face and the action down below like she's watching some X-rated tennis match.
"I t-turned... ugg... th-them... unh... off-ff-f," I croak, my need rising as it's becoming difficult to breathe.
Heat from my body combined with the hot water of the shower is turning the room into a sauna. Beads of sweat form on my brow and my hand is a blur as it abuses my cock.
"Very, very, naughty, William. I should spank you for that."
"Oh god," I blurt and my legs start to give out.
"Slow down, baby. Slow down. Interesting reaction though. Very interesting, indeed."
I slow down as she commanded and can't believe how much it aches, this yearning from my core. The buildup is torturous. Yet, despite my desperation -- my aching need to cum -- something's holding me back. I just can't bring myself to do it. Not with Mom right in front of me.
I'm afraid -- no, I'm terrified -- that as soon as I give in and my orgasm erupts, she's going to be furious. She'll come out of this trance she's in and realize what I've done, how depraved I've become.
She'll blame me, and rightly so, for all the wicked things I've done that have led her to this temptation and brought us here to this moment. And then she's going to hate me. How could she ever forgive me for all these filthy, deplorable, unspeakable things I've been doing?
"Keep stroking, baby," Mom says softly once I seem to have regained my breath. "Tell me what you're thinking."
"Mom, I c-can't. I sh- shouldn't. You'll..."
"It's me, sweetheart. I love you so much. Now tell me what you're worried about."
"I... if I... if I f-finish... will you..."
"Will I what?"
"Will you," tears well in my eyes as I consider what cost this impure pleasure might demand from us. How our lives, surely, will forever be changed. My cadence slows.
"Baby," she says. "Will I what?"
"Will you... k-kick m-me out? L-like Dad?"
I must have struck a nerve because she reels back on her haunches. "Honey," she says in astonishment. "Why would you think that?"
"B-because of the t-tapes? His p-porn?" I say, and ask at the same time, because I still don't actually know what was on them all. But whatever it was, it must have been worse than the little I saw if it's the reason she kicked him out. It wasn't two weeks after she found them in my room that all trace of him was gone. "It's m-my fault he's gone," I say out loud for the first time since he left. "Isn't it?"
I've all but stopped stroking now and my cock is none too pleased about it.
"No, baby. He isn't gone because of that. I promise. He's gone because..."
For the first time I can remember, Mom seems unsure of herself.
I completely stop stroking myself. "Mom? Are you okay?"
"Will," she says, and I can tell she's putting on a brave face. "Your father isn't here because he chose a different family."
"Was it... S-Springfield?" I ask.
Mom nods, seemingly surprised that I knew.
And I did kind of know. Or suspected at least. Dad had been making far too many 'work trips' to Springfield for it to be normal anymore.
"It wasn't anything you did, baby. I promise. It wasn't you. It... It was me."
"But you're perfect," I blurt and she smiles.
"I'm not sweetheart but thank you."
"Y-you are, though," I contend. "And he's an asshole."
This makes Mom grin.
"Fuck him," I say without thinking and that makes her outright giggle. She can probably count on one hand the times I've used the f-word in her presence.
"Yeah, fuck him," she agrees. "We don't need him, do we?"
I shake my head.
We stare at each other for a long moment, smiling sweetly into each other's eyes. God, she's beautiful. What an idiot Dad was to screw things up with her. An even bigger idiot than I have ever been.
"I don't recall giving you permission to stop," she says with a smile, breaking us out of the moment. "You really are bucking for a spanking, aren't you?"
There's a gleam in Mom's eyes now that I find utterly intoxicating. I grab my dick, which isn't quite so steely anymore, and try to fluff it back to life. But the soap has gone sticky again, almost painfully so.
"Here," Mom sees the problem and reaches beside her, retrieving something from her pocket. When she turns back around, she's holding a small bottle of clear liquid that says Astro- something on the label.
"What's that?"
"Don't you worry about it," Mom says coyly. "Just something I keep around."
"M-mom, I... I should probably get out, d-don't you th-think?" I ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed again, ashamed of my nakedness and feeling swallowed up in my shyness.
"Is the water cold?" she asks.
"N-not yet, but-"
"Turn the shower head away."
"Huh?"
"Turn it away, so it doesn't get me." She lays my bath towel on the floor and lowers herself down. "Is it turned?" she asks.
"Y-yes." I turn and push it away so it's only hitting my back. When I turn back around, she's opening the sliding door. I said she's opening the sliding door!
"M-Mom!" I protest because this is crossing a line way more than anything else so far.
"Hush, baby. Let Momma help take care of you."
She opens the door and leans forward, treating me to an unobstructed view down her satin pajama top. Her breasts hang like pendulums, instantly hypnotizing me with their sway. Her hardened nipples poke at the silky fabric, making two pronounced pointy tips in the fabric.
"So.... You turned off the cameras? Very naughty. And you walked naked across our yard? A spankable offense."
Oh, God. Back to that?
"And then, of all the places you could go in our yard, you came up to my window?"
I close my eyes but when I feel a hand on my leg, my eyes shoot back open.
"But you were already hard, though," Mom says contemplatively. "Were you hard when you left your room?"
The memory is so vivid I have no trouble recalling it. "Y-yes."
"Hm. So, you walked past my door naked with this beautiful hard cock... then past your sister's bedroom, too?"
"Sh-she was at school."
Mom rolls her eyes at my lame defense. "You strolled through our kitchen in nothing but your birthday suit... and then you crossed the yard, completely in the nude, with a full-blown stiffy?" she asks, pausing to give me yet another playful smirk.
"Yet, somehow, you didn't know I was there?" She sounds skeptical.
"N-no, Mom! I swear. I d-didn't even know it was your room! Mom, I promise!"
"Okay, okay. Calm down. I told you, I'm not mad."
I exhale in relief, unsure why she isn't furious with me but so glad that she isn't.
"Well, I was there," she continues and when a second hand touches my leg, I throw my head back and bite my bottom lip.
"Ohh!" I gasp when a total body zap shoots through my body like I've just touched a live wire.
"Can I tell you a secret, Will? I was naked, too," she admits and I nearly shoot off right away but -- "Ugggggggghhh!" -- a violent grunt of frustration erupts from my lungs and somehow fends off the inevitable.
I drop my eyes to Mom. Her lips are pink and wet, like maybe she just licked them, and they're dangerously close to the tip of my cock.
"I was hoping it would happen, Will. I dreamed that it would. That someday... that's exactly what you'd do. That you'd show up naked... and hard... and you'd finally let me see you... all of you."
Her hands slide upward on my thighs.
"And then, there you were, like I manifested you or something."
My needy dick lurches, bobbing in front of her, straining to reach her, starving for her touch.
"And then you started stroking yourself and... oh, gawd... I nearly lost it."
I'm about to lose it, too. Right fucking now.
Mom's touching me -- just my legs, I mean, but still. She's actually freaking touching me! And I'm naked. And I'm hard. And it's not only me who's turned on; she's turned on, too! That's why her nipples are so hard, right?
She reaches down to the bottle she retrieved and pops open the cap. She pours some of the liquid into her palm and sets the bottle back down again. My eyes are laser-focused on the hand with the liquid in it, wondering what she's going to do with it.
And just when I think she's going to wrap her hand around my shaft, she instead makes it disappear behind the waistband of her pajamas.
"I felt so lucky, Will. So unbelievably blessed. How did I end up with such a perfect son? Who loves me so much that he'd do that for me?"
"I w-would, Mom," I say, suddenly feeling guilty that I hadn't done it all on purpose in the way she's suggesting.
"Did you know I had the window open?" she asks, but I'm too frozen to respond, my eyes glazing over at what I'm seeing -- Mom's hand disappearing behind the waistband of her pj's.
"William? Did you know?"
"Know, w-what?"
"That I had my window open?"
I shake my head as Mom's hand starts to move in her pajamas. Is she? She... she is. She's touching herself... down there.
"Did you also know I could hear you?" she asks breathlessly.
My eyes dart to hers.
There's nothing but lust in her eyes. Unbridled lust that has no choice but to run its course now. It's the same look I saw one night when I watched myself in a mirror, right before I came.
"Touch yourself, baby."
I don't hesitate. My hand grips around my shaft before my heart takes another beat.
Wait, use this," Mom says, reaching the bottle toward me. But instead of handing it to me, she deftly pops open the lid and pours the clear liquid directly onto my cock. Her eyes are rapacious as she dribbles the oil on my shaft and then my head and back to my shaft again.
"Oh my god..." I pant. "Oh... Momm..."
"Now, touch yourself," she orders.
I do and holy mother-ffff! The sensation is amazing. It has never felt like this.
"Do you remember what you said?" Mom asks.
My mind is conflicting, torn between two moments.
"Oh, Eliza, you said," Mom says huskily, in her impression of my voice.
"I know you have a thing for her," she says. "You have for a long time. I might ask her over next weekend for a swim. Do you like that idea?"
I'm sliding my hand back and forth, every motion feels electric. The entire length of my manhood is slick in my hand and every time my thumb hits the knob of my cock head, I moan in sheer ecstasy.
"I thought you might. Mmmmm," Mom purrs. She's clearly playing with herself, too, as I see her hand moving quicker.
"Massage your balls, honey," she commands.
I've never done that before. But touching myself there, with my hand all coated with Mom's slick lube, sends a thrill into my core that I've never felt before. A groan starts deep in my chest and soon escapes through my throat.
"Yes," Mom coos, her own need building. "You know what else you said?"
Her hand is moving faster, and I increase my speed to match. Our movements grow frantic as, together, we grow more desperate for release.
"'Oh, Miss Stokely,' you said, and I nearly creamed my panties because... ooh... because that meant you had... mmmm... a thing for older women, too. Women who are.... oh, fff... my age, maybe?"
"Unh!" I grunt. Every sordid word from Mom's mouth is a new thrill.
"Oh wait," Mom corrects between pants. "I couldn't have... creamed my panties, now could I... because I wasn't wearing any."
"Fuuuu...," I almost say the full word -- the mother of all naughty words -- again.
"But I was... sooo fucking wet."
"Fuck!" I let slip after hearing Mom say it herself and she smiles at seeing my self-restraint is beginning to fail.
"I was so afraid you could hear me... how wet I was... so fucking wet... while I was jilling myself... right next to you... and you were jerking off your man-meat in the bush... right outside my window... you were jerking off... oh, gawd..."
Her breath is laboring now. She struggles to keep talking, sometimes repeating things as she replays that night from her point of view. She seems desperate to tell me, like she was offering a confession.
My own stroking is frenetic and I'm growing more anxious about cumming. The way that she's sitting, so close to my face, I have to be careful not to hit her with my fist on my upstrokes. Even worse, though, I realize, I'm definitely going to cum soon, and when I do... Oh, God... Her face... Mom's beautiful face... it's right there.
"My pussy was sloppy, I was so fucking wet for you," Mom says and I shudder at her words.
"Ung... M-mom... oh, god... umph..."
Mom temporarily pauses her story, giving voice to her buildup as it quickly overtakes her.
"Oh... oh fuck, baby... oh... OH... OH!" Her hand is a blur in her pj's. Her eyes roll back and she's gasping for air, like all she can do is inhale over and over until finally she has to scream to let it all out. "FUCK! YES! WILLY! Yes! Yes! YES!"
Her body is writhing and I'm close to cumming myself, but this is without a doubt the most erotic thing I've ever witnessed and I'm too scared to blink for fear of missing a second of it. I never want to forget this. Even if she does hate me afterward. And I find myself nearing closer to the edge despite barely moving my hand anymore.
I'm mesmerized by the sight, like two liters of arousal were shot straight into my veins.
"Then you know what you said?" she says with a sneer, almost like she's angry but not enough to stop frigging herself. "Do you know what you said, Willy?"
"M-Mom," I mumble. "Oh, god, Mom... Guh... Grrr... Uhh..."
"Stroke it!" she commands. "Do you remember what you said, son?" She's working herself faster. She's near to a second orgasm while I'm climbing closer to mine, too.
"Pump, dammit!" she demands and, at once, I obey. My fist pounds my cock like a jackhammer as my vision turns red and cloudy with desire.
"Do you remember what you said?!"
I'm pumping as fast as I can now. My balls are lifting, growing tight as they strain.
I feel it rising. My balls are fucking churning. My shaft is hard as stone and hot as a fucking furnace. Precum is flowing from my tip, I'm dying with need, and my lungs are about to burst. I rise to my tiptoes. My legs muscles tighten.
"Fuuuuuuck!" I cry, as the dam starts to crumble.
"Tell me what you said, Willy!" Mom shouts. "Tell me what you fucking said!"
"I said..."
"Say it!"
"I... unh... ung... Fuck!... Umph... I said..." I can't stop now. The stronghold is failing and I'm about to erupt.
"SAY IT!" Mom screams and in response I finally do.
"I said Mom!" I shout as the floodgates bust open.
"YES!!" Mom shouts as I my shaft fills with rage like an exploding furnace.
"Cum for me, baby!" she demands as my cock expands in my hand.
"Mom!" I cry as I shoot my first load. It soars from my tip and lands directly on her chin.
"Give it to me! Give mommy your cum!" she shouts and opens her mouth wide.
"ARGHHH!" I wail as another spurt launches, landing on her forehead.
"UNH! UGH!" I grunt as spurt after heavy spurt rockets from my cock, Mom still begging for more.
"That's my cum, you hear me?" she says greedily. "This is my cock, you understand? I made it. It's mine!"
"Y-yes!" I cry as my climax continues and at my words Mom is overtaken with another orgasm.
"Fuck!" she cries. "Yes, yes. Yes, my baby."
She's fallen to her knees again. Her face is covered with my cum -- her forehead, her hair, her cheeks, her chin. There's even some on her lips, which she deftly removes with her tongue.
"Mmmm," she growls after swallowing, then licks her lips again. "My baby's cum," she says, possessed by the most perverted, most taboo of passions.
I'm coming down and, only now, feel like I can breathe again. But she's running herself faster now, building her own torment en route to her third intense climax. "My cum... mine... my baby's cum... fuck... uh... Uh!"
She her eyes shoot open and lock onto my cock, still hard with arousal and already returning to life.
"Mine!" she shouts greedily and raises herself from her haunches.
She launches herself forward and just as I realize her trajectory she devours me in her mouth, sucking as hard as she can.
In an instant, I'm right there again, this time with Mom's mouth wrapped tightly around my cock! I'm thrusting and can't help it. It's instinct. It's carnal and unwholesome and I can't help it one bit.
"UMMPH!" she growls and the vibration of her voice makes me thrust even more. Her hands grab my ass and she pulls me in deeper.
"Fuck!" I shout, as my dick slips past her tonsils and deep into her throat.
But she's desperate for more, like she's trying to swallow me whole. She digs her nails into the flesh of my ass and I cry out in delicious pain. She pushes and pulls me, all while screaming her pleasure against my cock.
"Raah!" I shout as I start to cum again and she comes undone, too.
"GLURPH!" she bleats while gagging on my cock.
My hips thrust on their own, needy, almost violent, as she forces me to empty my seed into her hot greedy throat.
"Mmmm... gluhhh... mmmp...," she growls, over and over as I start to come down.
"Fuck," I gasp once more when I'm finally spent.
With a pop, she releases my cock, immediately licking my jizz from her lips and swallowing.
She reaches a finger to her face, covers it with my seed, then sucks it into her mouth. She swallows that down, too.
"Mom... Y-you... that was... w-wow," I wheeze in the understatement of the century.
She repeats her lewd show of self-cleaning until there's little left to find. "Mmmm," she purrs, over and over. It's an intoxicating sound. "Even better than I hoped, baby. God you're delicious."
"M-mom, I... Oh, God... w-what have I done?" Panic overtakes me just as my legs start to give out from the exertion.
"No, baby. Don't," she says sternly.
"But-"
"No. When I said this was mine..." She draws an imaginary path from my head to my toes and everything in between. "I meant it."
I swallow my anxiety best I can as it begins to sink in that, maybe, just maybe, Mom isn't going to hate me.
"It's mine, Will. Not Miss Stokely's. Not her hot little number of a daughter. Not even that teacher you talk about in your sleep. It's mine. You understand?"
"But Mom, I... we... what we did... what if..."
"What if what? As far as I'm concerned, there are no what if's. I don't regret what we've done, Will. All we did is take care of each other, because we love each other, and I plan on doing it again, soon. So long as you don't regret it. Tell me that you don't. Please?"
"I... I..." I want to tell her that I don't -- that everything that just happened was the best thing I've ever experienced in my entire life. Instead, I stare, unable to speak. My body radiates with a glow I've never felt before. I feel free. And full. And complete. And for the first time in my life, unreservedly happy.
"Just say 'okay, Mom'", she says with an encouraging smile.
And with an unsure smile of my own I do. "O- okay, Mom," I say and nearly buckle when she smiles.
"Good boy."
She picks up the towel from the floor and gathers both my clean and dirty piles of clothes in her arms. I have nothing to dry off with now, and no clothes to change into. But what she is doing hasn't fully registered yet.
She turns toward the door and just before she reaches it, she turns around to say, "On second thought, maybe I shouldn't be so greedy to keep you all to myself. I did say I'd invite Eliza over for a swim," she says with a proud, teasing grin as she relishes my obvious discomfort.
"And I did say Miss Stokely will be here any minute for tea, didn't I? I'm sure she'd love to see you." Mom looks me over with prurient eyes. "Perhaps I should send her in to say hello?"
I gasp at the thought and the realization that she's leaving me with nothing to cover up with suddenly hits me. My face turns scarlet and Mom nods her head, as if approving her own plan.
Then she puts a finger on her chin and says, "What to do about your teacher though." She's staring towards the ceiling now, lost in thought. "I'll have to think about that one. I wonder if she's open to private tutoring."
She winks and my unquenchable teenage hormones reignite with a new yearning, one that I'm not sure what to do with but I want desperately to explore.
I watch as she walks out with my towel, all my clothes, and what's left of my dignity, leaving the bathroom door fully open behind her.
"Wash up, quickly," she calls out... just as the doorbell rings.