Billy's mother put the sandwich and glass of milk down in front of him and then sat across the kitchen table and smiled, licking her lips and secretly pleased, her warm, damp pussy trembling.

"I saw Mrs. Peterson today, at the store. She told me what a good job you did for her."

"Um," he said, chewing.

"She's very pretty, isn't she?" She let her bathrobe fall open.

He nodded, trying to ignore her full, firm breasts.

"She called you a fine young man, and said she hoped to see you again."

He nodded and took another bite, remembering the woman's bare breasts, her fat nipples, her screams of pleasure.

"Did you fuck her?" asked his mother, blankly.

Billy choked, gasped, drank some milk and blinked at her.

His mother smiled. "A month or so ago I found your box of money under your bed, and I didn't have any trouble getting into your computer. You certainly have been busy."

He nodded and blushed.

"How many women have you bonked?" She smiled. "I didn't count them."

"Geeze, Ma," he squealed.

"How long have you been doing this?" she asked, looking quite serious, and pulling her open robe back together, tossing back her hair.

He sniffed. "A while, couple of years I guess."

"Before you were sixteen?"

He nodded.

"They didn't know?"

He shook his head.

"What do you charge?"

"Come on. I don't, but they give me money, some do."

"Uh huh, and you now have almost two thousand dollars. Let's see, at twenty bucks a lawn, how many lawns is that?"

"I have a job," he said, starting to stand up.

"Sit," she said.

He sat.

"How big is it? Is it as big as your father's?"

He nodded. "I guess, maybe eight inches."

"Well, your father's been gone two months now, and he won't be back until Christmas, almost a whole year on this assignment."

The boy nodded, eager to leave.

"And, maybe you don't know, but I suspect your sister does, she's a lighter sleeper, your father mounted me almost every night.' She smiled. "Often twice." She licked her lips. "I'd say thirty minutes or so was normal."

The boy blinked at her. He had heard his parents making love a couple of times, but ignored it, usually busy with his own needs, his straining prick and seething testicles.

"So, my horny son who has pleased every grass widow around, you have a new customer. Me. And I am very demanding. I am not easy to please. My lover, your father, is an expert. He never fails, never."

Billy swallowed and looked at his mother, trying to think of her as one of his clients, one of his more-than-willing lovers. He couldn't do it, but he had to admit she was pretty and had a great set of knockers.

"Do you understand? I want sex, and I want it now and whenever I need it. I might not need it every night, but I need it, boy. Right now. Understand?"

He nodded.

"Come," she said, standing. "Let's see if you are your father's son." She held out her hand, took his and led him up the stairs and into her bedroom, letting her bathrobe flap open. "Strip," she said as she smiled at him and shed her soft robe and tossed it aside. She was completely naked underneath except for a bra and panties.

Billy yanked off his t-shirt and watched his mother unsnap her bra and free her big, soft breasts. Her areoles were large and pink and her nipples were distended.