Chapter 1

My life changed forever on a warm day in May. I was cleaning my sixteen-year-old son's room. I know he should do it, but I keep it up. A normal daily occurrence as I've found that it's only a job of a few minutes.

I went into the room to make his bed. Today, he'd left a book on the bed. Eric loves books and he leaves them everywhere. So, today was no different.

I picked up the book and saw a very simple cover. There was a drawing in line art of a woman in a very skimpy bikini, her very large boobs were barely covered. She was looking at a young man mowing her lawn. He was drawn with a significant bulge in his tight shorts. The title of the book was "My Son Mows My Lawn." I thought the title rather stupid.

Now, remember this was in 1961. It was a time when ignorance was bliss, and books like I'd just found couldn't be purchased at B. Dalton's. The cover art was so strange, it didn't look like a genre I was familiar with.

I opened the book to the first page of text, Chapter One: My Son's Big Dick. I stared at it. Did it really say that? I read the first paragraph:

I hadn't noticed my son was growing into a man until the day I walked into the bathroom and caught him coming out of the shower naked. His cock hung halfway to his knees. He was huge. Well past his father's rather mundane prick. He jumped back in the shower, and I hurriedly left, but the image of his dick was still in my mind. My biggest regret over this accidental exposure, was that it was limp and I wanted to see my son's huge dick, hard and ready to fuck.

I read it again. While the writing was rather simplistic the image the words drew was powerful. The idea of wanting to see my son's cock seemed very arousing. I flipped to the middle of the book:

I had waited for this moment for weeks. My Don in my bed, his cock rock hard and me about to sit down on it and fill my cunt with its massive size...

I shut the book and put it back on his bed, and left the room without doing any clean up.

I made a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table and lit a cigarette. As I slowly smoked, I thought about what I had read. It was descriptive beyond anything I had ever seen in a book. It spoke of ideas not normally written about in books I read.

I stubbed out my cigarette and went back to my son's room and picked up the book. I looked at the lurid back cover as I walked back to the kitchen. Pouring another cup of coffee and lighting another cigarette I sat down at the kitchen table and opened the book.

As I read Chapter One I became aware that my body was becoming aroused. As if the words of this mother's story were my husband's hands working on readying me for intercourse.

I was wet. As I read on about the woman's attempts to see her son's cock again I felt the moisture seeping through my panties. A scene near the end of the first chapter had, Kay, the mother's name, lying in her bed and masturbating to a fantasy about her son.