J.J's involvement began quite by accident. But in a way that's not true. He was involved for a long time. For just a long time he had eyes for his lovely Mom, watched her, appreciated her, reveled in this rare occasions, when he'd catch her around the house, quite by accident not fully dressed.
There was even one occasion about six months ago, when she was in the laundry room. He went with his own laundry and stopped dead still in the door way. There she was leaning over the washer wearing a pair of white, cotton bikini panties and a bra.
"Mom," he said, the surprise overtaking him.
She let out a sound that was something like a squeak or a squeal or 'eeeeeek' and held up a tee shirt. He grinned at her only as he turned away and said, over his shoulder, looking at her again, since most of her was still on display, including, he noticed, some dark curls that were sticking out of the lower front of her bikini panties.
"Lookin' good, Mom," he said, with what he thought was great presence of mind, and being really thankful that he didn't do anything idiotic, which was surely one of the possibilities of the situation. "Lookin' foxy!"
She blushed, and started to emit a sound like a soft giggle. (Carol Swain was a giggler, when she was pleased, you see.)
"Get out and let your old Mom have some peace; I thought you were gone to school," she barked, with a smile on her face.
"Don't see nothing 'old' from where I'm standing. Just foxy, Mom," he said, grinning.
"J.J Swain!" she barked again.
He left with a laugh, singing bits and pieces of the song "I'm too sexy for my clothes!"
"J.J," she exploded again, barely able to hold in her own laughter.
"I'm goin', Mom; I'm goin'" he said, walking away.
As he left that morning, he went into the kitchen, where she was but in a robe this time. He approached her and gave her a kiss:
"Got to go now, have a 10 AM class," he said, and then:
"Sorry, that I surprised you this morning."
She looked at him with lovely eyes, which he'd always thought was her best feature, until he saw her ass that morning; she said:
"That's okay, honey, I'll be more careful!"
"Don't on my account," he said then and started moving away, waiting for the explosion. He wasn't disappointed:
"Goin', Mom, goin'; enjoy your day." He said leaving. "Love you, Mom."
"I love you too, honey," she said and jus sighed, when he was gone.
That certainly peaked his interest but she was very careful after that. It all settled down into their routine: school for him, the local jr college, while he decided what to do, Carol taking care of the house and family and working at Verizon, and Tom doing his usual amount of traveling for his job.
It all settled down until a few days ago. Carol had asked him, when he got a chance to install a new program on her computer. He was the guru of the family and was seriously thinking of computer science as his major. He was just good at it.
He was off that morning, and went to her computer in her sewing, computer, craft and everything else room, to check on an update. Quite by accident, her computer opened to her saved history files and he noticed a saved log of conversations from one of the major online web sites. They'd been sent, at times, from her computer at work. J.J looked and his world changed.
Carol Swain was 39. ("Too old," she thought "To have a son as old as J.J, who," she also thought "Was at 19 remarkably mature.") She'd been married to Tom Swain, a good man, good father, good provided, for 20 years. He was her 'vanilla sweetie', as she called him.
And then there was Tom. Devoted to golf and his job. In his middle years, getting a fair amount of fat around his stomach from the kind of life he treated himself to, when he was on the road. Tom was, indeed, as he was described by Carol a 'vanilla' individual. Those sexual fires had burned brightly at one point but now there were just other things that were taking their place, and Carol became, for the most part, one of the comforts of his life.
For most of those years, especially the early years, sex with Tom had been good and refreshing. Carol's problem was her own imagination. She'd grown up wanting, as long as she could remember, being the woman captured by the indians. A strange, strange thing but a powerful one. She even remembered a scene in a western, that was burned into her memory, where a woman was indeed captured and surrounded by indians, who began to roughly strip off her clothes. The first time that she saw the scene, Carol could hardly even breath. She was 14 at the time and remembered the date as the very first time that she masturbate. Her disappointment was that they never took all of the woman's clothes off, and killed her instead.But she knew that it was just the way that movies were at the time.
Carol played the scene over and over in her mind and always, she was the woman and always they stripped her, but in her mind it was always naked, and always they let her run away, her shimmering nakedness brilliant under the sun, only to capture her and subject her to every kind of sex imaginable. That was Carol's passion, hidden away these many years of her life with her 'vanilla sweetie'.
She actively sought out internet sites where she would be able to read stories that fed her still active imagination. She came upon one site that fed her needs constantly. In the process of making her usual and frequent visits to the site, she read the stories of a single author, who had a flair for stories of submissive women. Carol was all but hooked immediately. His stories became her passion, fed her secret fantasies. She loved them, and decided, after a month or so of paying attention to his writing, to write to him. She began a correspondence with him, and loved it. It even extended into on-line chatting, while she was in her office at work. She loved the chats and what happened. It was these chats that J.J inadvertently found that morning.
J.J couldn't believe his eyes. The more he read of the conversations, inadvertently saved, the hotter they got. He had to move and make room in his running pants for his stiffening cock.
Here was his Mom, lovely Carol, asking to be the on-line slut of the writer, and enjoying being called special sexy names by the writer. In some of the conversations, she was at work in her office. The writer told her to pull her skirt up to her waist and sit on her chair on her panties. She obeyed with a 'yes, sir' or even an occasional 'yes, master!'
J.J was thunder struck. He sent the files to his own computer, and went back to his room to continue reading. He listened carefully but his Dad was on a trip and his Mom at work. He released his prick from his pants and idly stroked it as he read the conversations.
On one occasion, his Mom, in obedience to the command of the writer pulled her skirt up and her panties down to her knees but was allowed to 'touch' herself only once.
J.J was struck by his Mom's compliance, and her obvious willingness in the situations that were described. She constantly, daily, reported what panties she was wearing to the writer, now her 'on-line Master'. He sensed that she did it with a fair amount of joy.
One thought that went through his mind was that "Old Tom"or, as Carol described his Dad in the conversations 'Vanilla Tom', was missing out on a lot.
Then toward the end of conversation's files he came to one that had him rooted to the spot. He even stopped his jerking off, when he read it.
In that conversation, the writer was ordering Carol to have a steamy sex session with his Dad; he mentioned sucking his Dad's cock and kneeling submissively to do it.
J.J was rooted to his chair. He finished jerking off, just getting out a handkerchief in time to catch his cum. When he'd cum, he sat and thought. A project that he'd toyed with, ever since the laundry room incident came back to his mind, and in the end, he was smiling broadly.
He worked all that day to get it set up, and tested it very carefully. In the register for the heat and air, in the master suite, he installed a small camera that would broadcast to his computer. It was motion activated. He disguised it, and put tape over the ready light. He ran the camera system over and over and it seemed all set. In addition, with the camera system that he bought he had other 'pods' that would broadcast to his computer as well. He wanted to be able to use the system for more than just the bedroom but he was determined to scan the bedroom.
He was pleased with the quality and the vision scope of the camera system. He had the whole room very well covered. If anything happened; he'd see it. His object was to try to get a glimpse of this new side of his Mom. It was, in his mind, the logical extension of the view of her in those pretty white cotton bikini panties. The very thought of getting a glimpse of her in some of the panties that she kept describing to the writer in their chat sessions, was a total turn on for him.
And so, he became 'the Watcher'. He was eager for that night, his Dad would be home, the night on which his Mom was supposed to, in obedience to her 'Master's' command, do it.
His Dad came home early that evening. Carol had a lovely dinner all ready and J.J made excuses early in the evening to go to his room. A little later, he went and said good night to his Mom and Dad, giving Carol a cheek's kiss. She gave him bright eyes, and a return kiss, and he went to his room. He activated the system, and waited.
.... There is more of this story ...