Chapter 1

Dear Diary

Saturday, August 1st, 2020

Today, I caught my teenage son Michael spanking his monkey. I walked into his room to drop off his folded laundry and caught him with his pants around his ankles. He was seated at his laptop, and I could see his knuckles wrapped around his hard cock as he slowly stroked it to what was on the PC. He was on a Brazzer’s website watching MILF porn. The woman was my age, had blonde hair, and perfect tits. The caption in the video was “Mommy Cam,” She was encouraging him to jerk off.

I was so unprepared to catch him masturbating that I didn’t immediately know how to react. I dropped the laundry basket and watched him for a brief instant as he pounded his pud entranced in the video. Once he noticed me, I reacted by calling him a filthy pervert. He tried to apologize, but he was tongue-tied and blushing. Michael knew he had been caught, and there was no point in explaining.

My father was a Marine, and I was raised in a strict household. If he had caught my brother’s doing something like that, he would have strung their balls up on a flag pole. I doubt my brothers would have had the audacity to openly flog their wieners in their bedroom with the door unlocked.

I made a hasty decision to spank Michael. His behavior was so indecent that I felt I had no choice. His hard-on didn’t immediately dissipate, and when he turned to face me I watched it dangle as if it were daring me to smack his bottom for what he had done. I hadn’t needed to spank Michael for several years. I certainly hadn’t spanked him since he hit puberty.

He was my height now and had a full mound of brown, curly pubic hair around his cock. He was physically almost an adult now. His father has a flat and hairy ass that is nothing special to look at. Michael had a hairless, almost girl-like pert round ass.

“Michael, this is indecent! That woman is my age!” I huffed in an angry rage. It almost felt like he had been peeping on ME because I have blonde hair, and while I have a few extra pounds and I don’t have fake tits, the porn star was a very close approximation of me. I didn’t even know what MILF porn was at the time. I saw it was the category he was watching, and I inferred from the Mommy-Cam title at the bottom of the screen he had a thing for women my age.

It felt personal to me. I think I was angry because I caught him doing what he shouldn’t be doing so openly but also because I felt a personal connection to the women and felt objectified for his entertainment.

“I don’t know what to say,” he started to pull up his pants to hide his boner. His cock was like a spearhead dangling and bouncing like a spring as he tried to cover his shame.

“Oh no, Mister Michael!” I exclaimed. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook after what I just witnessed. “Stand up! Pants down around your ankles!” I demanded.

Michael knew that when I called him “Mister Michael,” I was livid with him. The last time I called him, that was when he was seven and ran off inside of a Beall’s outlet while I was shopping for his school clothes. He popped out of a rack of clothes and scared me half to death. He still remembers that spanking and the tone of my voice. I took his pants down and spanked him right in front of the other shoppers. It wasn’t hard or abusive, but it was enough to let him know I was the boss, and he was not to run off like that. It was for his own good!

This time I wasn’t sure what lesson I was proving to him. I masturbate all the time. I have to because my husband’s libido has been declining, and I have a lot of unrequited fantasies. I just couldn’t reconcile that my son had sexual needs at the time because I caught him enjoying himself to porn of women that looked a lot like me!

Michael stood up and turned around. I told him to take his pants all the way down to his ankles.

“Don’t bother leaving the underwear on. I’ve already seen your bits and pieces, young man!” I said with scorn in my voice. A part of me was secretly proud my boy had such an outstanding dong. He would have a very fortunate wife one day. I wasn’t thinking about that at the time though.

He obeyed me and bent over the table after he cleared off his laptop and mousepad. I told him to grab both sides of the table and hold on to them.

This was the position my father used to spank me in. He would make me wait like that and anticipate the strokes. The humiliation of bearing your butt to your parents while you wait for them to correct your behavior can be worse than the actual punishment when you have a little extra padding on your plump backside as I do!

I reached down and rubbed his naked bum to warm it up. I felt dirty for doing that because I could see his balls flopping down between his legs. They were obviously still full of his ejaculate and not high and tight. It disgusted me to see them dangling there and I began to see them as targets.

I didn’t want to use my hand to spank his ass but there was nothing else handy at the time. I was lost in the moment. I cupped my hand and went to spank his ass but I targeted his balls. I didn’t anticipate that once my hand touched his balls, how they would feel. I didn’t anticipate how his dick would jerk after as his body instinctively buckled away from my touch.

“Count each stroke, Mister Michael!” I scolded him to hold still.

“One,” he said.

“You didn’t even lock your door! Did you want to get caught?” I asked. This time I landed a good swat on his butt cheeks. His hairy delicate balls dangled just below the crack of his ass as if daring me to spank them again, though.

“No, Mom!” he cried out and counted two.

“What is MILF porn? That woman is my age!” I demanded, and this time, I slapped his balls again. They bobbed like a pair of fuzzy dice. I could tell it stung him much more to be spanked on his nuts, and I delighted in it.

I delighted in it.

I was enjoying this. That disgusted me. It turned me to make him bend over and accept a punishment. The realization frightened me and filled me with disgust. I blamed him for making me sexualize his discipline that should not have felt sexual at all.

“Mom’s I’d like to fuck,” Michael explained what MILF stood for and counted the next stroke.

“Is that it? You would like to fuck ME?” I don’t know why I asked that question. If he did, I really didn’t want to know. I had seen enough episodes of Jerry Springer and Doctor Phil on television to know there were some guys who had mommy issues and wanted either a girl like their mother or their own mom.

“No, Mom, I just wanted to spank my monkey to something different. I like all kinds of porn! You can check my search history,” he said as he begged me to stop spanking him and counted. I had never heard the term spank my monkey. I tried not to giggle. It sounded so naughty, and the way he said it so casually made it sound like something Pee Wee would have said in one of those old 1980’s Porky’s movies.

I wanted to be serious, and I HAD to finish what I started.

“I am just getting started spanking you!” I demanded. It hadn’t made me feel any better than he had a diverse porn search history. It certainly vindicated my sense that he was the one who should be ashamed of himself and that I should not feel guilty for smacking his butt.

I wasn’t smacking his butt as much as I was torturing his balls by slapping them like they were two ping pong balls. “Count, or I’ll start all over,” I demanded.

“Five?” my son groaned in frustration and pain.

I slapped his thighs and ass to a few times but I focused on his balls. On the eight slap directly on the base of his nuts, he started to spurt and shot his cum all over his thighs and the front of the table.

“Disgusting!” I shouted.

“I couldn’t help it, Mom!” he gasped as he unloaded his goo all over himself. I could see the muscles in his buttocks tightening and his toes curling.

“Clean this mess up, and we will talk about this later!” I shouted and promptly left his room.

We NEVER talked about it later. I didn’t make eye contact with him for two days.

I did furiously masturbate about what happened several times which is why I began to chronicle the experience in detail so that I could relive it exactly as I remembered it.

Dear Diary

Tuesday, August 4^th, 2020

My daughter Courtney is a cheerleader and she is in her final year of High School. She is the spitting image of me at that age and she can be pretty funny and outgoing. She still takes the time to help around the house. Today she had volunteered to do the laundry for me. She had been doing that a lot lately.

I walked into the garage to look for something, and I caught Michael with his pants around his ankles again. He was furiously beating off, but this time, he was staring through a vent that leads into the laundry room.

His cock was so rigid and hard, and this time he was facing the door so that I had a full view of his hairy dick as he pulled his pud. He was going at it much more furiously and obviously very close. He had no idea I walked in to the garage. He couldn’t hear me over the sound the washing machine makes.

I watched him for two entire minutes. I was angry he had the audacity to masturbate again in a place where I might catch him. I should have been okay with the fact that teenagers are going to experiment with their bodies. No parent wants to actually SEE it, though, right?

I thought about the messy experience we had when I punished him earlier. I thought about how instead of being a lesson in my authority that it had felt awkwardly sexual. I had been masturbating as I relived and embellished on the details of that brief encounter. The experience was much better safely in my head where no one else had to know I even thought about it. I could relive it there in my mind without too much shame or guilt as I watched him spooge as a direct result of my spanking in a harmless fantasy.

What good would interrupting him do now? I wondered. I could turn around and leave, and he would be none the wiser of my presence. A small voice inside my head told me that I would be right to punish him, though. I know that a small voice was also the one who enjoyed punishing Michael.