Sunlight streamed in through the bedroom window in a thick (albeit slanted) golden pillar, its base lying at the foot of a king-sized bed with a single occupant. The sleeper lay tangled in the sheets, wearing a tired smile after an apparently restless, though pleasant night.

The broad square of daylight slowly moved up the side of the bed as morning wore on, eventually creeping over a pair of dainty feet, wrapped around a twist of blanket. With the change in temperature, the sleeper groaned as consciousness slowly began to assert itself, and moved her feet out of the way of the encroaching light. She now lay with long, lightly tanned legs entrapping the twisted sheet. Subcutaneous muscle flexed throughout shapely calves and slim thighs as she slowly began working her hips in a slow pumping motion. The sunlight persisted, however, and followed her feet across the bed until there was nowhere else for them to run. As her feet now started to become quite overheated, she came to full consciousness, blushing slightly as she realized what she'd been doing shortly beforehand.

Yawning delicately, Josephine Hall sat up, disentangling herself from the bedsheets as she went. Perched on the edge of her bed, she ran a hand through the long, lazy curls that swept down to just above her shoulders in a cascade of red. She slowly got to her feet, smiling broadly. Last night, like every other night this week, had been filled with... pleasant dreams. As a matter of fact, there hadn't been a morning yet in the last five that hadn't started with damp panties. She didn't know why in hell she felt so horny, but she liked it. Good thing she was on vacation... Josephine knew she'd be in no mood to go back to work on Monday.

Looking over her shoulder, she took a look in the mirror mounted next to her closet, and liked what she saw. After thirty-eight years, Josephine knew, she still had IT. Maybe there were a few crow's feet starting to make their presence known about her eyes, and her butt was no longer tight enough to bounce a quarter off of, but she still had legs to die for, and her breasts, though small, still showed no signs of sagging. She smoothed out the wrinkles in the little black nightie she was wearing, and pouted. If there was a man here, there was no way he'd be able to resist her... IF there was a man here. Josephine sighed. But there were other ways to reaffirm her sexpot status.

Outside her room, there came the clatter of somebody preparing breakfast. Josephine threw one last sexy look at the mirror, and grabbed the thick bathrobe that lay at the foot of her bed. Slipping it on, and tying it loosely, she went to see what kind of a mess Alvin was making in the kitchen.

Padding quietly into the kitchen on bare feet, she found her son rushing about, trying to simultaneously shove a couple of pieces of bacon and a slice of toast into his mouth whilst quaffing a glass of orange juice. He stopped eating long enough to look up when she walked in, and tried a "Good Morning" around whatever he was chewing on.

"Morning honey," she replied, and started poking about the kitchen, as if looking for breakfast. The robe parted every now and again, and her legs flashed into view for the only spectator present. Josephine couldn't suppress a smile as she heard the noise of his chewing slow each time the cotton folds opened. She knew what he was looking at... he'd only been doing it all week.

The first morning she'd caught him staring, Josephine recalled feeling more than slightly shocked and kind of repulsed at the furtive glances of her son. But as each day passed, she'd been overcome with a sense of quiet pride that her legs could still draw a young man's eye, and a not- so-quiet feeling of power. At some point in the week, it dawned upon her that each time she flashed her legs at Alvin, SHE was the only thing occupying his thoughts... that each time he walked away from her in a kind of half-crouch, trying to conceal his erection, SHE was the one in control of his penis. So, it became a kind of game for her, these last couple of days, to give him a show, and watch as he wiggled his cute little butt out of the room, trying not to reveal the bulge in his jeans. Afterwards, she always felt an incredible rush of power and, she had to admit (though reluctantly) a flush of arousal.

Eventually settling on a tall, cold glass of milk, she seated herself in the seat next to his, crossing those long, lovely legs and causing the robe to slip away from them completely, leaving only the very top of her thighs covered by the indecent skirt of her nightie. At this, Alvin stopped chewing altogether for a moment, and swallowed.

"Taking the car to school today?" She queried, crossing her legs the other way, and gloating internally as she saw him blush fiercely. It was a moot question - as long as she'd been on vacation, he'd driven the car to the college campus, thus avoiding the horrors of public transit, if only for a week. He nodded anyway.

"Good. I know how much you hate the bus," she lifted her glass, and began to drink, tilting her chin high. A pair of white rivulets escaped the corners of her mouth, running over the delicate curve of her jaw, down her neck, across her breastbone and into the top of her nightie. Alvin groaned quietly, and stopped eating altogether.

With a quick "gotta go," he lurched from the table, face crimson. Josephine chuckled into her glass as he hobbled from the kitchen, and squeezed her thighs together.

Checking herself out in the mirror again, Josephine decided that she really needed more heels. Standing up on her toes, she watched her calves bunch and her ass thrust out as she raised herself up higher... higher... she had legs made for heels. She'd picked up a pair or two in the course of the last week, but she definately needed more; and the taller, the better.

Ah, well. There was a job for the weekend. Humming quietly to herself, Josephine smoothed out the wrinkles in the pink tank top she was wearing, pulling it tight over her small breasts, nipples rising high out of the fabric. Tightening her stomach for a moment, she was pleased to see the depression between her abs appear... the exercise program she'd instituted two months ago was starting to pay off. Now, if only she could take an inch or so off her buttocks, overything'd be all right.

Contemplating her ass for a moment in the mirror, she sighed with resignation. Her khaki shorts were stretched tightly across the cheeks, crease running deep into the crack of her rear. Some things would stand no improvement.

Outside, she heard the unmistakable sound of tires crunching their way into the driveway. Slipping into a pair of Keds the same colour as her shorts, she shot a quick glance out the bedroom window to make sure it was Alvin, presumably coming home for lunch. With a feral grin, Josephine dashed for the front door to greet her son.

As soon as he had reached the front step, she flung the door wide open, making him start in surprise. He just kind of stood there for a moment, and Josephine knew what he was doing - staring. She savoured the rush of control that swept through her for a moment, and then, cocking one shapely leg, said,

"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you coming in?"

Head low to hide a sheepish look on his face, Alvin slipped in past his mother, though she was careful to brush her leg against his. As she closed the door on a summery-warm spring day, Josephine was fairly sure she could hear him mumbling something to himself about self-control.

Following him into the kitchen, Josephine kept her eye on Alvin's rear, thinking what a cute little behind he had. And why not? He was a cute kid... maybe a little shy, but that just added to his sweet 'n innocent look. Idly, she wondered if he'd had a girlfriend yet. Josephine knew her son had a couple female friends amongst his small circle of companions, but didn't think he'd asked any of them out yet. He simply didn't have the balls, figuratively speaking. From the volume of semen she'd had to wash from his bedsheets, Josephine knew very well that he had balls of the literal variety.

Recently, though, he seemed to have been growing in popularity. Not that there had been a sudden influx of people into the house, mind you; the volume of mail he recieved, though, had trebled a couple of months ago. He'd even gotten that package from Germ-

The thought that he was, in every sense of the word, a virgin, made things all the sweeter for Josephine. If Alvin hadn't been so, so virginial, all the fun of the chase would have been lost for his mother. No hunter wants prey that stands still... it's running 'em to the ground that makes it worthwhile. That was why she enjoyed his furtive looks, the deep crimson the spread over his face when he was caught glancing at some exposed flesh...

Josephine licked her lips hungrily.

Coming up from behind Alvin, she threw her arms around his chest, pressing her stiff nipples deep into his back, making sure that he felt them. She hugged her son in as motherly a way as possible, giving him a peck on the cheek, and speaking directly into his ear.

"Sooo..." she started playfully, "how's your day been so far?"

"Erm, all right," Alvin gently extricated himself from his mother's grip, and nearly ran into the kitchen. When he started puttering about, looking for something to eat for lunch, Josephine shoo-ed him to the table in a businesslike manner.

"Oh, no you don't," she admonished, wagging a finger, "not after the mess you made this morning. Sit down, and I'll throw something or other together for you." With that, she began dancing about the kitchen, making the simple construction of a ham sandwich seem like a strip-tease. Putting the sandwich down in front of her son, she told him to enjoy, making it sound almost like a question.

She walked away from the table, her hips bumping and grinding with a near- liqiud fluidity. Reaching the window over looking their back yard, Josephine leaned on the windowsill, raising her ass slightly into the air.

"It's such a beautiful day," she mused, as if to herself, "I think maybe I'll go out and work on my tan." Alvin choked slightly. She allowed herself a little grin, recalling yesterday, when he'd found her out in the back yard, wearing a few strips of shiny pink lycra and a coat of tanning oil. Alvin had only taken one look before turning and running, heading, presumably, for his bedroom.

The thought of him up there, frantically beating his meat while watching his mother sun herself had caused her pussy to gush like a leaky faucet. As a matter of fact, it was having the same effect now.