Chapter 1: Discovery

I don’t know why you men seem to think we women don’t get a horny as you do because we do! I know we’re not SUPPOSED to show it like you men do. This nonsense starts early, and I suppose it’s a Societal thing. Nice girls are expected to be demure, and God help us if we appear to be as horny as you guys. A horny guy is seen as a STUD. A woman who appears horny is labeled a slut, or a whore. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t just as horny, just as hot, as you men. I know what you’re doing right now ... most of you. You’re sitting there with your naked cock in your hand, fondling it slowly, or stroking it, masturbating. If you think we women don’t do the same when we read porn you’re mistaken, because we do.

When I read porn I like to be wearing only a robe. Nothing else, so I can spread my legs and touch my pussy, or pinch my nipples. I like to sniff my cunt juice, or taste it, and more ... much more. When I’m horny.

Sometimes I can go for days without masturbating, but then I’ll begin feeling horny again. My mind will wander to thoughts of sex, and once that process begins I know I have to masturbate or sex is all I’ll think about. I’m a single mother of a 14 year old son so I don’t have a lot of opportunity to get laid. I’m also too shy to go looking for it, and ever since my husband left me for a waitress half his age my self-image has been pretty low. I gained a little weight ... I’m 5’6” tall with what I guess are still pretty nice tits... 36C ... but at 130 pounds I’m probably 10 pounds heavier than I’d like to be, although I’m sure not FAT and I still get plenty of looks from men, and even some women! I’m also multi-orgasmic, and when I’m in one of my horny stretches I seem to be more aware of how many men are staring at my tits. Then the vicious circle begins. My awareness of their attention to my tits seems to make my nipples grow, and that makes them press harder against the fabric of my bra or tee shirt, and that makes me hornier, and makes my cunt dampen, which makes me hornier. And so it continues until I can find time to quench my sexual hunger with my fingers or one of my vibrators. Of course I can only do that when Robby isn’t home or late at night after he’s asleep. Or so I thought.

I first began thinking about the possibility of having sex with my son when I found a pair of my panties under his bed one afternoon while cleaning his room. At first I thought Robby might have dropped a handkerchief on the floor, but then I realized what they were, and a sudden, intense rush of tingling heat coursed through my pussy. I picked up the panties, examining them, and it was then I realized they had cum in them. Robby’s cum. My son’s cum!

My legs suddenly became so weak I had to sit on the edge of the bed, my heart pounding, mind filling with exciting fantasies, shameful visions of my son’s cock, naked, as it spurted cum from the end of it directly into the crotch of my soiled panties. As I slowly lifted the dirty panties to my face I slid a hand beneath the ones I was wearing and began to touch myself. How large, I wondered, was my son’s cock now ... how thick? How long was it? It had been years since I’d seen it naked. How much cum did he shoot when he climaxed, I mused, my fingers rubbing my wet pussy now as I slowly brought the panties to my nose. Inhaling deeply my nostrils were immediately assaulted by the scent of the combination of my stale cunt juices, days old droplets of my urine, and Robby’s cum. I stared at the wetness again then, rubbing the panties between my thumb and fingers, and I realized the wetness was from Robby’s relatively fresh load of cum. And then, on impulse, I suddenly sucked them, the crotch of my nasty, wet, cum-drenched panties.