Peeping Tom
Copyright© 2026 by APerv2
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A young man's curiosity piqued by overhearing his mother and aunt's conversation, he begins to peek at his own mother.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa Fiction Incest Mother Son Voyeurism
The next day, Mom didn’t take her midday “brake”. She DID, however, take her nightly shower, but Dad farting around in the backyard ‘til all hours of the night made it impossible for me to do my thing. I had to settle for jerking off in my room before I went to bed. The next day, my stupid sister was home all day hanging around, so when I saw Mom head into the bathroom around 1:00, I was shit-out-of-luck. I didn’t dare risk being found outside the bathroom window or getting caught with my ear to the door and a bulge in my pants. It wasn’t worth getting caught and ruining the nights ahead that I might get to watch my mother.
It was like that for a long few days. There was always someone around that made it too risky to indulge myself in my new hobby. A few nights later, though ... I got another chance. My sister was in bed, and my dad and I were in the living room watching a baseball game. The Yankees were playing, and it was only the top of the third when Mom tried to slip in under the radar. I saw her out of the corner of my eyes as she scurried through the living room with her robe draped over her arm and her rolled-up towel tucked securely away.
I slipped out and made my way to my perch outside the bathroom window. It went almost exactly as it had a couple of nights before, except this time, from the time I first eyed her through the blinds, she kept glancing towards the window ... every few minutes, it seemed; enough so that it made me nervous, and I stayed back from the sill and just peeked around the window jam with one eye. I felt relatively safe, after all, if she could see me, well ... she wouldn’t be doing it.
It seemed like it moved along a lot slower this time. I was treated to another amazing show. There seemed to be a lot more foreplay this time. She spent a great deal of time on her tits, rubbing them, pushing them together, and making large round circles with them as she squeezed and dragged her long fingernails over them ever-so-lightly. She spit on her fingertips and wet her nipples; long, shiny runners of spit connecting her fingers to her open mouth and then to the hard nipples that I wanted to touch so badly. They looked incredibly hard from the moment she sat on the floor against the door, but now ... now they looked even longer and darker. I thought of those little marshmallows you put in your hot chocolate, which turned into a vivid picture in my head of covering each swollen nipple in Hershey’s chocolate syrup, the excess slowly making its way down the bottom of each white globe in a thick, sluggish river, onto her flat stomach to puddle in her sexy innie. Chocolate-covered Mom, I thought. I could say the thought made my dick hard, but the fact is, my dick was hard before I jumped my perverted ass up on that little cooler outside the window.
After a while, I felt comfortable enough to venture out from around the window frame. When I did, Mom glanced at the window and held her gaze. I felt a moment of uneasiness, but as soon as she locked eyes with the window, her pace picked up, so I didn’t give it another thought before I began to stroke my dick.
I wasn’t disappointed. As before, her climax was hard and exhausting. In her thralls, it appeared her head bounced off the door a few times, and her foot had pushed against the cabinet door of the vanity with enough force to strip the screws and knock the flimsy door off its hinges. She spasmed and jerked all around the small bathroom floor, trying to get all of that rubber cock inside her. None of this slowed my mother down. She thrashed and flayed around on the floor, finally settling in an exhausted heap, her eyes closed, her pretty tits heaving like one of those old rigs trying to pump oil from the ground. And until that moment of exhaustion ... her eyes never left the window.
This time, I came so hard I did fall off my perch. My legs just gave out. My last spurt of cum sprayed the leaves of the Holly bush as I came to rest on my back in the mulch. I couldn’t help but shake my head at the craziness, but there was no time to waste on the moment. Between the noise that my mother must have made in the bathroom and the cry of “Oh my God!” that I think I bellowed on my way down, I figured someone was going to get caught, and I didn’t want it to be me. I scurried up, secured my dick (a dick that was as hard now as it was when I’d first pulled it out), shoved the little cooler under the bushes, and ran out to the pool.
I was in no condition to head into the house just yet. Besides the hard-on that I feared would never go away, I was just too wound up to see anyone. I sat at the tiny table by the pool and checked myself as best I could; looking for dirt, leaves, mulch, cum on my clothes. Anything that might suggest that I’d been anywhere near the bathroom window. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back on the chair. I took deep, slow breaths and enjoyed the light, cool breeze that swept over my sweaty face. I thought about what I was doing, the risks I was taking, and decided with a small measure of reluctance (a tiny measure and a bit of concern as well, because I knew without a doubt that what I was doing was wrong, very wrong, and I knew it was just a matter of time before someone caught me) ... that I couldn’t wait for the next time.
I went to sleep that night, jerking off again, visions of my lustful mother being the last things in my head before I drifted off.
As luck would have it, the next day I was in the pool floating around on the raft {on my stomach}daydreaming, when Mom came walking out of the house talking on the phone. As I floated over closer to where she was sitting, I could tell she was talking to Aunt Jenny again. She was talking quietly and sneaking a peek in my direction every so often.
(I’d say that my dick started to move around just thinking about what they might be talking about, but the truth was ... that birddog had been out hunting all morning and was ready to pull the birds right out of the goddamn trees by now)
I thought my presence in the pool might chase my mother out of the house for more privacy, so I decided to give my mother her “space” so that she could talk freely. I paddled over to the steps, slid off the raft, and headed up the steps out of the pool. (It would seem that I had achieved the first three stages of a good hard-on: reason, anticipation, and good blood flow.) I held my little air-filled raft between me and my mother until I reached the sliding glass doors that led into the kitchen. The hundred and forty times I glanced over at her, she was sitting there, holding the phone to her ear, watching me leave. I assumed she was waiting for me to get out of earshot so she could talk to her sister, or maybe I just looked like I was up to something. I figure both.
Once in the house, I made my way to the garage and up onto the workbench. The window was already open enough from the last time I’d perched my ass up here to eavesdrop. Mom WAS waiting for me to leave ... What I heard took away both my breath and my ability to hold onto a rational thought.
“I do it every night,” I heard her tell my aunt. “I don’t know, that was the first time I noticed.”
Noticed what? I wondered. I swallowed hard. I watched and listened, all but shoving my head through the small cap in the window, as my mother went on. I would’ve loved to pick up one of the other phones; I badly wanted to hear Aunt Jenny’s side of the conversation, but Mom was on her cell phone.
“I’m almost positive,” she told her sister.
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t know.”
“Could be, I guess.”
“But suppose it isn’t,” she said with a wonder in her voice; like a little girl talking to her best friend about the boy she has a crush on.
“Bobby told me that Tommy said he liked me.”
“Suppose he’s lying?”
“ ... But suppose he isn’t.”
Come on, Mom ... Give me something, I begged under my breath.
“I’m telling you, Jenny...”
I watched Mom glance around the yard before continuing. She lowered her voice a little bit more. I strained to hear. “It ... really turned me on.” She said, sounding a bit surprised at her own words ... or the fact that she was actually telling her sister about it, or maybe she was just surprised at her own reaction to the whole thing. Hard to say.
“I know, right...”
“Never...”
“I just kept doing it...”
“I did too!”
“Swear to god.”
“I never knew,” I heard her tell her sister as she shrugged her shoulders, shook her head, and looked up towards the blue sky. Now I had my temple pressed so hard against the window frame that I was rubbing the paint off, and my chin ... my chin and jaw were beginning to hurt trying to push the wooden sill out of the way so I could get closer, hear better.
And then my dick went soft, my chin gave up trying to move the sill, and slapped the wooden bench below instead. “FUCK.” I whispered rather loudly. I ducked down out of sight in case I’d been loud enough for her to hear me. I froze there below the window, wondering what kind of facility they’d be sending me to; wondering if they would allow me visitors, and if so ... would anybody even come to see me?
“How do you know, Jenny?” Mom asked her sister. “Have you ever had anybody watching you do it?”
“She saw you!!!” A harsh voice in my head screamed. If I had to put a picture with the voice, I’d say a grey-haired judge, narrow-eyed and staring at me in disgust over the rim of his glasses, slamming down his gavel, and motioning for the bailiff to take me into custody.
She had seen me at the window last night. Dear god ... But no way, I thought...
I was a mess up there on the workbench, crouching, trying not to be seen. It was hard to get a thought straight before another one popped in my head to take its place. If she’d seen me ... why, why in god’s name, did she just keep going? Why didn’t she do something ... Why was I still running free? There was no way. I had to listen. I had to make sense of it. Surely I was misinterpreting something.
I wasn’t sure what I’d missed in my frenzied search for wits and answers, but the next thing I heard was Mom telling Aunt Jenny that she didn’t know, “It was just too dark.” She’d said.
If I was getting this right, Mom HAD seen me ... But she didn’t know it was ME. That thought made my heart forget to beat until my lungs gave a little nudge in protest. I gasped and the firmness that had been abruptly chased from my dick just a few moments ago was welcomed back with open arms.
“I had no idea something like that would make me feel all ... all...” Mom lowered her voice so much I couldn’t hear and I wasn’t close enough to attempt to read her lips.
“I’ve never felt anything like it.” She went on to say with a little more volume and a little more wonder in her tone.
“I know...”
“Have you?”
I don’t know what my aunt’s response to that was, but I heard my mom jokingly say, “Well that’s because you’re a whore.”
“Sure...”
“Uh-huh”
“Yep”
Then Mom told Aunt Jenny not to mention this to anyone.
“No, I’m not saying anything to him.” She says.
“Shit, for all I know ... He is the one at the window and if I say anything ... Well ... It might ruin it.”
I assumed she thought “Him” was my father. I prayed.
(I have to admit, later that night, the thought that Mom might know it was me at the window, and she was still willing to pleasured herself while I watched ... Well ... When I could finally get out of my bed and stand, I had to take a shower to wash the cum off.)
And then I heard all I needed to hear,
“I wanna do it again.” She tells her sister.
“I don’t know ... I just do ... I really liked it.”
“Yeah. I’m not going to do or say anything to anybody ... Well, you’re different ... I can tell you.”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll see if he comes back tonight.” She tells my aunt.
“I know...”
“Yeah.”
“I will. Love you too.”
I was so deep in thought that I sat up there on the workbench long after my mother had hung up and gone into the house. She knew someone was watching her, yet she was willing to do it anyway. Wow! I was beginning to see that there was yet another side of my mom I never thought existed. I doubted my father even knew this side of Mom. I kinda wondered what he would do if he knew; if it would turn him on or freak him out. Kinda like a little boy telling his priest that he thinks he might be gay ... It could go either way.
Only the guy at the window knew, I thought.
Well, in the next weeks, I managed to watch my mother a few more times as she pleasured us both with her escapades in the bathroom. Obsession just didn’t describe it. I fell asleep each night with my dick in my hand and woke each morning with a hard-on. I dressed accordingly. I even started to put two pairs of underwear on to better pin down my overactive best buddy. I let the first pair slip down a little and let the tip of my hard dick stick out past the waistband. The second pair, I pulled up to hide the tip. I had to pay close attention when I was around my mother. I’d often found myself staring ... daydreaming. A lot of times I felt like I was nine, sitting in the garage with an old Playboy I’d found in a box under the workbench and I’d gotten my first look at some titties.
Each time I watched her was just like the first; just as new and exciting, just as hot. The level of lust (and in my case, obsession) grew with each episode. Now when I spied, I stood on my cooler, almost out in the open, my head fully framed by the window frame as if I was a welcomed guest at the neighbourhood peep-show, staring at the exotic dancer as she stared back from behind the tinted glass.
I hoped to make it appear (to Mom) that it might actually be my father at the window spying on her. Everyone was already well aware that he spent a great deal of time in the backyard at night on his laptop anyways. He’d be the most likely suspect. I thought that might not only put my mother a bit more at ease but also keep the heat off me. It took a while for me to realize that if she thought it was him, she might bring it all up one night in a hopeful attempt to pull a confession from him and maybe even bring him out of his sexual cocoon, so to speak. If she did that, there was no doubt that he would be out here in the bushes waiting for the perp the very next night. I really didn’t want to come running out and duck behind the bushes, dick in hand, reaching for the cooler, only to find my father there waiting for me putting his non-confrontational days behind him.
As it turned out, something happened that I’d never even considered in my wildest dreams. (And I had some wild-ass dreams too.)
On this particular night, around 8:30, I’d told my mom that I was hanging out over my friend Jimmy’s house and told her I’d be home by 11:00. This lie was designed to further push suspicion towards Dad. I was becoming quite the conniver. The bite in the ass was: I had to sit in the flowerbed behind the bushes (from 8:30 to almost 10:00) and wait for my mother to “take her shower”. Another downside was that if my father decided to spend the evening out by the pool, I’d be shit-out-of-luck. I’d be trapped there until he decided to go in and god knows when that might be. It didn’t take but a second to surmise that all of this was well worth it though.
Anyway, I was sitting on my little cooler, tucked away nicely behind the bushes, waiting for the light to go on in the bathroom when the window suddenly popped open. The light hadn’t gone on, I didn’t hear the blinds being pulled up, there was no warning ... The window just popped open. My life flashed before my eyes. I sat motionless, frozen, afraid that if I so much as moved a single hair on my ass check, that I would surely shit my pants. To my relief, I heard the window blinds rustle and then the light flipped on. I thought that maybe she was just hot in there. It certainly made sense that she would be. I was a bit worried that she may have closed the blinds all the way and I wouldn’t be able to see. I made sure I was alone in the backyard then slowly took my place perched on my stand ready to peek around the window frame when I saw a little piece of paper sticking out of the window ... Right there on the sill, held there by the weight of the blinds.
What the fuck? I stared at it, like it was a snake that would strike at any moment. I was afraid that if I touched it, it would break the spell, ruin this world that I had somehow gotten so comfortable in. By the time I looked through the window, through the blinds, Mom was already in the midst of her routine. Both hands were full of her luscious breasts, her beloved dildo lying on the floor, just in reach, waiting like the star of the play, for his cue to take the stage ... do his scene. Her eyes were focused on the window, never wavering, hardly blinking, excitement and desire shining in each eye with just a hint of what might have been ... hope.
Periodically, I glanced at the small piece of paper protruding from under the blinds, the note. I was a bit surprised that it kept drawing my attention away from my mother. I wouldn’t have thought that even the villagers busting down our fence, their hands filled with torches, pitchforks, and anything they could grab to beat the town pervert to death with, could have pulled my attention from my mother’s display, but it did. I wanted to know what it was, what it said, almost more than I wanted to watch the show my mother was now so willing to put on...
But I was afraid. Afraid of somehow confirming my existence, showing my mother that it was ME ... and not her husband that found her so alluring ... so desirable. It was all I could do to keep my hands off that little piece of paper. I was so scared that when Mom was finished, she would retrieve the note before taking her shower. I watched as her orgasm took her as it had each night I’d watched before; hard and completely. As she lay there trying desperately to calm her breathing, I took the opportunity, seized the moment. I put my dick away. I hadn’t cum along with my mother the way I had each other night; the tiny piece of paper made sure of that. I jumped off my perch, snatching the note from the sill as I did. I hit the ground and made a mad dash to the side gate. I couldn’t have been more excited ... Or scared ... if I’d found a whole suitcase full of the mob’s money and “No-Neck Sal” was hot on my heels.
I hit the street and turned towards Jimmy’s. The folded piece of paper felt no lighter than a brick in my hand. I didn’t stop until I was two blocks from the house. There, on the corner of West Rolling Hills Rd. and Summerset, I stood under the street light, breathing hard, sweating, unfolded the note with a pair of hands that would lose a surgeon his license to practice ... and read the words. With my back against the cool light post, I slowly slid down until my ass settled on the hard concrete. Holy fuck!
“Do you like what you see? Stick your cock through the blinds if you do.”
I was too stunned to read on. I sat there staring at the note, staring through it. The thoughts and pictures that swirled around in my head took the place of everything around me. If she didn’t think that was my dad outside that window... “Jesus Christ,” I heard myself whisper. The thought made my head spin. And I don’t mean that metaphorically ... I mean that I thought I was going to pass out.
I looked down at the note again, trying to concentrate on the words. As they came into focus, I shook my head, not believing what they said. “I’ll give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had.”
I sat under that street light ‘till well after 12:00. I finally came to my senses, the note in one hand and my other mindlessly rubbing the front of my pants.
As what seemed to be the norm, my dick was as hard as quantum physics to a second grader. I could only hope that it was gone by the time I got home, but I knew better. I tucked the note in my pocket and started my long trek home ... The longest two blocks that man has ever walked.
As it turned out, I slipped into the house unnoticed. I hurried to my room, stripped down to my boxers, turned the light off, and jumped into bed. I waited as long as I could to see if anyone would come in to check on me. I jerked off twice thinking about that note and what it might mean before I drifted off in a restless sleep that was crammed full of erotic dreams and scenarios. I woke in the morning with the same goddamn boner I’d gone to sleep with. I began to think of my boner the same as my Saint Christopher’s mettle, those little brown streaks on my underwear, that fuckin’ mole above my left eye ... It was just something that was always there. The load I dumped on my chest before I climbed out of bed barely softened it.
I spent most of the morning and into the day in my room trying to figure out what to do about my mom ... about the note. Maybe it was a trap, I thought. But to be honest, the other thoughts and ideas that bounced around in my demented little head had pushed that thought right out like chilly does farts. I finally decided that I wanted to find a way to take my mother up on her offer. I was going to find a way to get my ass up high enough on that windowsill so that I could stick my dick right through the blinds.
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