Chapter 14

Mary was already sitting up in bed watching TV. The toilet flushed and Paul came into view.

“You haven’t started, have you?” he asked his mom, unbuckling the belt on his trousers.

“No.” Mary waved the remote at him keeping her eyes on the TV as Paul slipped his pants off and tossed them on a chair. It wasn’t until Paul turned sideways to look at the TV that Mary’s eyes glanced his way, straight at his midsection and the prominent bulge evident there even though his shirt covered his undershorts. Her gaze jerked back to the TV when Paul turned toward her.

“You may as well start, Mom,” he said, turning back to the TV, fingers busy undoing the buttons on his shirt.

Mary watched what she was doing as she manipulated the remote. Paul finished unbuttoning his shirt but continued watching the TV as the previews began for upcoming movies. He removed his shirt slowly, his attention captured by a preview of the new Spiderman movie. When his undershorts were uncovered, Mary’s eyes strayed to her son’s large bulge, her true feelings betrayed by the desire in her eyes. Mary may have been compelled to help her son, and she may not have done it if not prodded by me, but it was clear that it was no longer an entirely dutiful experience for her, even if she couldn’t admit that to herself.

Paul wasn’t interested in the next preview and turned to get into bed. Anticipating this, Mary had refocused her eyes on the TV. She started the movie and dropped the remote on the bed. Paul slipped under the covers, turning on his side to face his mom with his head on the pillow rather than propped up to watch the movie like Mary.

Paul made no pretense of being interested in the movie, he completely ignored it and Mary made no comment about him not watching it. He simply lay on his side, staring at Mary’s breasts under the nightie, perhaps marveling at their still youthful rise from her chest, or maybe he was thinking about something more lewd like the way he had ripped her nightdress the night before to watch his semen trickle between her tits to her belly.

Whatever he was thinking, it wasn’t long before there were signs of movement under the blanket. Unlike the night before when I could see his hands moving under the covers over his mom’s legs, the evidence was indirect. Mary’s legs appeared to be moving in response to Paul trying to push her knees up and seconds later this was confirmed as Mary lifted her knees under the covers. Mary complied with just a faintly annoyed expression but she spoke a moment later when her knees began to wobble. Evidently, Paul was trying to open her legs and she was resisting.

“Paul.”

No response.

“Paul,” Mary repeated. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

“I know. I’m just trying to help you see better,” Paul replied, ignoring the fact that he had pushed her legs up in the way in the first place. Nevertheless, Mary’s knees spread apart as she stopped resisting his pressure and quietly resumed watching the movie.

Like the night before, Mary’s face signaled the touch of Paul’s hand. Instead of starting by stroking her legs and working his way up, he went straight for the prize. Mary sucked her breath in sharply and began breathing in sharp little gasps. She must have been primed, whether from watching his cock bulge in his shorts or from thinking about what was going to happen, but the speed with which Paul had managed to get her breathing so quickly indicated that she’d been more than ready for his touch. Her head lolled against the headboard and she closed her eyes.

Paul rose up on one elbow, watching her tits heave on her chest as her ribcage emptied and filled. His eyes moved down to her crotch, which I couldn’t see because of the blankets stretched across her knees. Clearly, Paul wanted to see more too, to watch what his hand was doing, because he slowly peeled the covers back, baring his mother’s legs. Her feet were planted wide apart, knees up and open wide, and her nightie had fallen to her hips, exposing her pussy. His mother had gone to bed without panties.

Mary opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at her son. She looked very horny, her eyes desperate and her breathing erratic. Paul’s hand moved to regain possession of her pussy, his fingers twiddling from side to side, teasing her lips, fingertips dipping inside the wet slit between. Mary must have started lubricating before he even touched her to be this wet so fast. Paul’s eyes traveled up his mom’s belly, over her heaving breasts, to engage her eyes. Mary stared back, her head seeming to nod, almost imperceptibly, signaling what?

Eyes steadily on his mother, Paul moved his hand up to brush his fingers all around Mary’s mound.

“You’re so big here, Mom, like me,” he said.

Mary nodded silently, too busy trying to breathe to talk.

Paul bunched his fingers together and pushed them inside, whispering something I couldn’t hear. Mary squirmed, wiggling side to side, lowering herself in the bed, sliding off the pillows propped behind her back. When she was laying almost flat, Paul whispered again. Mary’s feet left the bed as she brought her knees back to her shoulders, and then to her sides as Paul whispered again, lewdly opening herself to his eyes, and mine. He continued to whisper softly to her as he worked his fingers inside her, barely moving them in and out, mostly twisting them back and forth.

Mary was nodding her head constantly, her eyes closed, but she suddenly shook her head no to something her son was now suggesting. She kept shaking her head slowly and he kept fingering her for a minute or two, and then, Mary’s head stopped shaking and she stretched her foot back, trying to reach behind her head. Paul got up to his knees and, keeping his finger inside hers, put his left hand under her back and lifted her hips off the bed, enabling Mary’s feet to reach the headboard. Mary’s foot was searching, scraping along the headboard. Paul shifted his knees to keep her bum in its raised position and used his now free left hand to guide Mary’s foot to the leather loop on the headboard. She helped Paul, scrunching her foot so it could more easily fit through the loop.

Damn, I thought. She’s going to do it for him.

Paul quickly moved to get her other ankle secured. I switched to the overhead camera so I could see Mary in her spread out glory. God. It may be lewd, but she looked fantastic spread out like that, ass twisted up off the bed, legs wide open, pussy soaked and full of her son’s fingers.

Paul worked away with his fingers, twisting, twisting, twisting. Sometimes he rubbed her clit with the thumb of his left hand and several times he pulled his hands away altogether, just as it seemed that Mary was about to come. Her eyes fluttered open then but she never said anything. Nevertheless, the look in her eyes betrayed her need to come and when his fingers returned, her eyes would close and the expression on her face indicated a more fervent effort to climb the ramp of desire to fruition before he next left her pussy hollow and pulsing its need to be filled again. Each time his fingers returned, Paul worked them further in, twisting his knuckles slowly back and forth, making it easier for Mary to reach nirvana.

It suddenly dawned on me what Paul was doing. He was preparing her, opening her so his humongous cock head could slip inside her easily, quickly, so she couldn’t block him. Did Mary know? Did she know her son was getting ready to fuck her? Was she trying to come first, or did she want him, despite what she’d said to me?

When the moment came, reason wouldn’t have anything to do with it, that much was certain. Mary was moaning and moaning as her son almost fisted her, though gently, slowly working all of his fingers in her, pulling out now and then to check how open she was. I could tell the moment was near because he suddenly pushed his undershorts down to his knees. I was sure the next time he pulled his fingers out they would be replaced by his cock before Mary could open her eyes. Would she care?

Paul leaned forward and, despite how soaked Mary’s pussy was, he drooled on it. Quickly, he pulled his fingers out, grasped his cock, and pressed it against his mom’s gaping hole. Mary’s eyes flew open, looking first at her son and then down to her pussy, watching him push the rest of his cock inside her. Her mouth was open and stayed open even after the massive head disappeared. Paul shifted up from his knees to squat on his feet, straddling Mary’s haunches, grabbing the headboard with both hands to steady himself. As Mary looked up at him, Paul began to fuck her, slowly at first but steadily increasing his pace until the room was filled with the wet sound of his legs slapping against hers.

Mary’s mouth was open in a silent scream, a scream of ecstasy judging by the enraptured look on her face. She loved it. I don’t know where Paul got his control from but several times he suddenly stopped, staying still for a least a minute before resuming, sometimes starting over again with a slow grinding fuck, sometimes fucking his mom hard. It wasn’t clear whether he stopped to prevent himself from coming or his mother, or both. But eventually, he didn’t stop, gasping loudly, somehow knowing he had to pull out, that he couldn’t pump his enormous load into his mom, that it needed somewhere to go. Mary was already soaked in her own fluid but Paul absolutely deluged her, pumping so much onto the backs of her legs, her pussy and ass, and her stomach and tits, that it looked like a fire truck had doused her with foam.

I watched to see Mary’s reaction to Paul’s surprise attack, but there was none. Mary disentangled herself from the leather straps after Paul rolled off her and simply disappeared from camera view, the shower starting up right away. Paul quietly stripped the bed and replaced the sheets and pillow cases, pulling the covers up and setting the movie back to its start. He left for the shower when his mother appeared, still silent, drying herself with a large towel, smiling at her son as they passed. She crawled between the sheets, completely nude, and plumped the pillows before starting the movie, not waiting, realizing her son wasn’t the least bit interested in it.

Paul returned from the shower a moment later, also completely naked. Mary watched him approach and climb into bed, her eyes on his unique cock. I couldn’t read her expression but her eyes never left his cock until it was covered by the blankets. Mary turned back to the movie and Paul went to sleep.

I fell asleep before Mom got home. I awoke just as she finished dressing and came over to kiss me good morning, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Mom said, kissing me on the forehead, then quickly on my lips. “Say, do you think Paul has finally got to Mary?” she asked. “Maybe introduced her to these,” she laughed, eyes twinkling as her hand flipped one of our leather straps.

“I don’t know,” I replied, still not fully awake. “Why?”

“Well, I was up very early and I heard some strange sounds from downstairs while I was having my coffee.”

I perked up at that.

Mom laughed again, “That got you interested, didn’t it? Is there a little voyeur in my boy?”

My panic was short-lived as I realized that Mom couldn’t possibly know about the cameras.

“I don’t know what he was doing to her,” she went on, “but the sounds were almost inhuman. She loved it though, whatever it was, for a long time. Lucky girl.”

Mom’s eyes gazed off into space, perhaps imagining what Paul had done to his mother, putting herself in Mary’s place.

“Well, gotta go.” Mom kissed me and left.

I hurried downstairs, grabbed a coffee and some toast and rushed to the study.

I reviewed the recordings for the past few hours, picking up Mary and Paul as the morning light filtered through their bedroom window. Paul woke first. He watched his mother sleeping for a few minutes as she lay facing away from him on her tummy, her upper back exposed. Timidly, his fingers pinched the covers and drew them down to her hips. He paused to admire the curve of her spine but only for a few seconds before drawing the covers down to reveal her buttocks. His eyes rested longer on her cheeks, long enough for his tongue to peek between his lips. Down he tugged the covers further yet, to mid thigh, revealing Mary’s open legs and her pussy bulging out below the crease that divided her ass. He lifted the covers then, drawing them completely off, careful not to wake his mother, exposing both of them in their naked state.

Gingerly, Paul changed his position so he was laying between Mary’s legs. He crept up, and very carefully, worked his fingers under his mom’s pussy, stretching his thumb up to brush her pouting lips. Mary’s ass moved then. Though still asleep she was still able to react to the tingling sensation of Paul’s gentle touch. He lowered his head and I could tell he was licking her ass. After a few minutes, he raised his head to look. Mary’s pussy was already starting to glisten and her ass was wet between the lower part of her cheeks where Paul had been tonguing her. He placed his left elbow outside her hip and used that hand to grasp her cheek, pulling it apart before dipping his head down once more.

Mary moved slightly every minute or so but it was clear she was still asleep. It was her body that was reacting, not her mind, though she might have been experiencing some wonderful dreams. Paul paused each time she moved, waiting until her breathing resumed before lowering his head to lap her ass again. Clearly, he wanted her to be incredibly horny when she finally woke up.

After several movements, Mary’s legs were wide open as she unconsciously accommodated her son’s ministrations. It even seemed that her ass had lifted a bit to provide better access for the exploring tongue snaking into her dark little hole. Her breathing was deeper. Paul managed to work on her for a long time before she showed the first definite sign of being awake. Her hands clenched, bunching the sheets in her fists, before she spoke.

“God, what are you doing to me?” she gasped.

“Morning, Mom. I’m having a special breakfast.”

Paul’s head dipped again to lap his mother’s ass. I could see the muscles on the back of his right arm moving as he worked his fingers in her pussy.

“God, oh god,” Mary cried.

Paul lifted his head again. I could see Mary’s ass lifting, trying to follow.

“Do you like it Mom?”

“Yes. God, yes,” Mary gasped. “I never ... no one’s ever...”

Paul’s head dropped into her ass again but the movement was different this time. His head dug in deep and then shook.

Mary’s reaction was startling. She gasped loudly, “Oh my god, unngggghhhh, oh god, oh god, unnnnhhhh.”

Paul kept digging and shaking his head. He must have plunged his tongue deep into her ass. Mary began to wail as Paul’s head continued shaking, periodically bursting out a few words, “I never ... don’t stop ... god ... that’s incredible ... do it, do it ... unnghhhh.”

When Paul finally pulled his head away, spreading Mary’s cheeks apart so he see the results of his tongue lashing, I could see Mary’s asshole, larger than a quarter, opening and closing a little as her ass still moved up and down, responding to the tongue that was no longer there. I couldn’t help it. A squirt escaped my cock, wetting my pants before I could stop it. She looked so erotic with her ass pulsing like that.

“Paul, you can’t ... you’re too big...,” Mary gasped.

“I know, Mom, I know. Trust me. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I know son.” Mary sounded like she was about to say more but Paul flicked his tongue across her gaping asshole several times, before plunging it back in. The moaning wail started again.

After a while, Paul began teasing Mary’s ass higher and higher until she was up on her knees. He pulled his face away then and replaced his tongue with his thumb, nudging his huge cock head against her pussy.

“Slowly, son. Go slow,” Mary gasped, clearly not adverse to her son fucking her again.

“I will Mom. I’m sorry I’m so big,” Paul replied, still pushing at her pussy with his cock.

“Don’t be sorry, son. You feel wonderful inside me.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Mind? Are you kidding? Last night was incredible. Nobody else could do that for me, make me feel like that. Nobody.”

A look of pure joy crossed Paul’s face but a pain ran through my chest as I realized the simple truth of Mary’s words. Everything had changed as soon as he had pushed his cock into her. I could see it in her face last night and I could hear it in her voice this morning. She would always want her son’s cock.

“Put it in me.” Mary spread her legs wider, moving her ass, trying to help him get in her. “Go ahead, son. I can take it.”

Paul hunched his ass forward, trying to shove more of his cock inside his mom.

“Come on, son, give it to me.” Mary urged him on.

Paul pushed harder. Mary braced herself, pushing pack.

“Oh, god,” she grunted, “fuck me, come on, I need you inside me.”

Paul was pushing hard now. I could see a grimace on Mary’s face as she strained to take him. Her face relaxed as Paul popped in, filling her cunt, forcing a loud grunt and long moan from his mother’s lips.

“Fuck me, Paul,” she whispered almost immediately, “fuck me.”

Mary collapsed to the bed, pulling her son with her, his cock firmly lodged inside. Obediently, he started bucking his hips into her ass. “Don’t pull out when you come, honey. Stay deep so it has room to squish out.”

“I will,” Paul gasped, pounding his Mom’s pussy faster and faster, his thumb still plugged in her ass.

Paul stopped again just before I thought he was about to come, waited for a minute, then started again. He repeated this again and again. Mary was wild. She was moaning and grunting all the time. She hadn’t spoken an intelligible word for almost half an hour. Finally, like last night, there came a time when Paul didn’t stop but kept moving faster. Suddenly, he plunged down, holding Mary’s ass deep into the mattress, forcing his cock in as far as he could, as per his mother’s instructions, leaving room around for his fluids to seep out of her pussy. Mary’s ass bucked about wildly, responding to the throes of her own orgasm. Soon they lay still.

Paul turned her after a few minutes, keeping her impaled on his cock as he turned over onto is back. Mary lay on top of him, back on his chest, legs splayed wide. Paul began to knead her tits as his mother regained her breath. It was quite a while until his left hand moved down to cup her pussy, gently massaging it in a rolling rub. Soon, his right hand slipped off his mom’s tit down to her torso, sliding around her hip and disappearing under her ass. Mary’s face told the story, tightening up in surprise as Paul’s finger slipped inside her ass. A minute later, he started to fuck her again.

This one didn’t last as long because Paul didn’t stop; he just kept fucking until they both came again. I could see his spunk squeeze out of her pussy and drip down both of their legs in a big sticky mess. Still, she lay on him for a long time before sitting up and carefully pulling herself off his cock before heading for the shower.

I sat for a while the monitors continued to play, responding to Paul’s movements. Where did he get his sexual confidence and knowledge, seemingly so far beyond his mother’s, a woman almost twenty years his senior? As a young fellow just a few years older, I knew the answer to that. The internet. We had so much more available for us to learn not just viable techniques but also exotic preferences and even fringe tastes, especially my own gender, the more avid consumers of online porn. We may lack actual experience but we arrived at game time so well equipped that it wasn’t surprising for an older woman to succumb to our selfish initiatives, especially when they were likely entering their own more sexually adventurous years. Add to that possibly years of boredom and same-old, same-old with a sexual partner stuck in the morays of twenty to thirty years past, well, let’s just say that a young guy was rarely so lucky as to stumble into a situation with a woman willing to try new things — with enthusiasm.

The thought was depressing. I couldn’t study, so I started browsing through the letters.

My father’s name is Bill and mine is William. That’s right, William. Rather than being Bill junior, I insisted on William after turning thirteen. Before that everyone called me Billy. I think the choice made me grow up with more poise and maturity than most of my peers. After the teasing in that first year, being referred to as William just demanded more deference somehow and I learned to carry a certain quiet authority in my mannerisms.

My mother’s name is Linda. Bill and Linda were a popular couple in their younger days, hosting a lot of parties when my sister and I were growing up. But eventually the parties declined in frequency, attracted fewer new people, and slowly petered out. Still, it was a few years before my sister managed to turn the large party room in the basement into her private domain. The shift was more rapid for me, over my sister’s objections, when she left for college. The only compromise I had to make was to store some of her stuff off to one end of the room but that wasn’t such a big deal. After she left, I threw a tarp over it and painted it with a can of black spray paint, the dominant color in my new decor.

Dad was nearing the end of his career but rather than winding down that meant he was required to handle increasingly important issues for his company. He was away a lot but was well compensated, allowing my mother to retire, even though she fourteen years his junior at only 46 years old (Mom was my father’s second marriage, he her first). My father did slow down on the home front. His work was taxing and he simply didn’t have the energy to expend when he was home. He had always been a workaholic, so it just wasn’t in his nature to lower his commitment to work near the end of his career; he needed to go out with at least one more achievement under his belt.

That left Mom alone while Dad was traveling, or even when he was home. She had long ago stopped accompanying Dad on his business trips since he worked even more on his trips than he did at home. When she had gone she was just bored and alone in strange cities, or stuck with another corporate wife who felt equally saddled. It was worse for Mom after my sister left, because that’s who she talked with when Dad was gone. Most of her friends were still working hard on their careers. Mom had never really been a career woman, being happy to leave work while my sister and I were growing up, and reluctant to return when we started school. Still, Mom was bored after quitting work.

She started coming down to visit me in the dungeon I had transformed my sister’s room into, or had ruined according to my sister. I have to say, I considered it quite an annoyance at first, but I realized that Mom was going through a difficult period of her life. She had only been ‘retired’ about four months, long enough to be bored silly but not sufficient to have adopted new interests. So Mom would wander downstairs to visit me almost any time day or night. She had a hard time sleeping now and knew I was a night owl, so she would often knock quite late at night if dim light showed under the door, and eventually she tapped a warning knock and then walked right in.

Now, I know you’re thinking she caught me masturbating, but that didn’t happen. Mom just became comfortable wandering in to hang out with me, and I with her being there. In a way it was cool. Mom and I got to know each other quite well, for her to be comfortable laying on my bed, or in the old chair, sometime without even talking, me playing a computer game and her reading. She just liked being near someone and I grew to prefer having her around to being alone.

Of course, when Mom visited me later at night, she was usually wearing her nightgown, robe and slippers rather than her typical day fare, blouse and slacks or skirt. I didn’t really pay any attention to this at first until the thought crossed my mind one evening when Mom came down to visit even though Dad had just arrived home. Mom and Dad never got ‘together’ at night. Now, I know they used to because I had heard them when I was younger and my sister mentioned how noisy they were after she first moved downstairs. Their room was right above this one and unmistakable sounds floated down the heat vents but my sister only let me sneak down to listen once.

When that memory resurfaced in my mind, I couldn’t help thinking about it more an more. They weren’t doing it anymore? Yeah, my Dad was getting old, seemingly stressed all the time, and distracted, but my Mom looked younger than her age by a few years. She couldn’t have lost interest in sex yet, I thought, not looking like she did. I mean, she wasn’t a raving beauty but she was at least as good looking as Julianne Moore. Still, I was positive that my mom wasn’t involved with anybody, and wouldn’t be. She was just going through a difficult time. I felt a tremendous softness toward her.

Of course, that didn’t stop me from appreciating her form. After all, I was eighteen. As my eyes roamed over her, laying across the end of my bed reading a pocket book, I found myself wishing it was during the day when she would have been wearing a skirt that would show her legs better. I tried to remember the shape of her legs but I had no memories stored there for reference; I simply hadn’t logged that kind of information about my mother.

Feigning interest in my laptop (I was keeping up with friends on facebook) I allowed my eyes glance furtively at Mom’s upper body, since her legs were wrapped in her full length robe. I had better fortune here, because her robe had worked loose and opened enough for me to see her nightdress underneath. I wished I could see her in just that nightdress. It was a shimmery looking blue material, edged in a white lace border about an inch thick. I could see skin through the tiny holes in the lace, the skin on her breasts. That was the second time in my life that I felt my cock stir in response to my mom.

I felt this horrible guilt but at the same time a thrill shot through me, spreading from the tip of my cock and through my loins. My eyes traveled a couple of inches higher, over the curve of her breasts, swelling above the ‘neckline’ of her nightdress because of the pressure on them from the way she was laying. A few more inches and — christ, her eyes were looking right at me. I blushed, too stunned to look away, my muscles incapable of responding and my brain similarly incapacitated.

Mom smiled, “Would you like it if I made us some hot chocolate?”

I nodded, at least I tried to, my neck muscles still resisting commands. Mom flipped her book over on the bed to save her place and slipped off the bed. The goofiest thought crossed through my mind, about how she would lecture me about how that wasn’t good for the binding when I did that with my own books. When I finally managed to operate my head again, she was by the door.

“It’s freezing in here,” she commented, turning the dial on the thermostat before disappearing into the night.

What the fuck was going on with me? I had just got caught looking at my mother’s cleavage. She had to know what I was looking at. How bloody embarrassing. Jesus! How could I face her. I should just pretend I was tired and fell asleep, I thought. I closed my laptop and put it on the bedside table, slipped out of my t-shirt and jeans and under the covers, and closed my eyes. A moment later I sat up. This is stupid, I thought. She knows I’m a night owl. She’ll know something’s wrong. I should just brazen it out, act as if nothing happened. That’s it. I was just about to get out of bed and back into my jeans when Mom appeared through the door again, carrying a tray with two huge mugs of hot chocolate, some cookies and cheese.

“Hey, lazybones. What are you doing in bed already?”

“Oh, uh, I was feeling kind of tired.”

“Tired? Really? I was about to see if you want to watch that new movie, the one you downloaded on your laptop. You’re not really tired are you?”

Mom set the tray down on the table on the other side of my bed, picked up one of the mugs and handed it to me, then passed me the plate with the cookies on it.

“Come on,” she said, “watch a movie with me.”

“Ok, Mom.”

I was so relieved that my transgression seemed to be history. I set the plate of cookies beside me and turned to set my mug down and pick up my laptop. My nervous returned with a bang when I turned back, placing the laptop on my lap. Mom was standing on the other side of the bed removing her robe. I quickly turned my face to my laptop, concentrating on firing it up, but my attention strained toward my peripheral vision, trying to see without looking. I felt more than saw her pull the covers back and slip into bed beside me, plump up the pillow to make herself comfortable before pulling the covers up and over her breasts, but not before I had a fleeting glimpse of bouncing mammaries. I was distinctly aware that she was dressed only in her nightdress, laying only a foot away from me.

Mom watched as I started the movie, then turned to get her own mug and the other plate with the chunks of cheese, setting it beside the cookie plate between us. We watched the movie for quite awhile but I was very tense and couldn’t tell you what happened. Slowly, I began to relax.