Chapter 2: On Collision Course

The urgent need for gratification had decreased to the intensity of a throbbing ache inside her greedy cunt as she tossed the vibrator down.

Slowly, her breathing returned to some semblance of normalcy. But even now, she was still tenderly fondling her hyper-sensitive clitoris. God, I am deranged, she thought. She had just climaxed and now only seconds later, she was fondling herself again. But it felt so good.

Turning her head, she stared at the pantyhose that had precipitated the near disaster.

Suddenly, she had an idea. With an evil glint in her eyes, she grabbed up the hose and slipped out the bed. Grinning lewdly, she hurried into her sewing room...

It was strained at the dinner table that night. David sensed that his parents weren't on the best of terms. They rarely spoke anymore and when they did, he could feel the undercut of hostility in their voices. But, that was their problem. He had to deal with his own problems.

His mother's recent indiscretion and his blunderous faux pas this afternoon had energized the tension between them to a volatile level. The interaction between them was so charged, he couldn't help blushing every time their eyes met.

All of this combined to throw a blanket of silence over the meal. No one tried to initiate conversation and as soon as he could, David pushed away from the table and rushed upstairs to his room...

Thursday, David got home from school at his regular time and found the house empty as usual. Making himself another sandwich to rival the monster he had consumed the previous day, he gulped it down before heading up the stairs to his room. Tossing his books on the floor, he started to sit down at his computer when he saw a pair of hose lying on his bed. Sitting atop the hose was a scrap of paper with writing on it. It was his mother's flowing handwriting.

The note read, "Try these."

Why was she teasing him like this? Was she trying to mortify him. She was being a real witch about the whole thing. So he had made a fool out of himself, she didn't have to rub it in.

Then he picked the hose up and they slowly unraveled in his hand.

A rush of adrenaline shot through his body when he saw that the crotch had been cut out of them.

What in the hell, he thought. Was his mother trying to tease him?

Examining them closer, he saw that the opening had been reinforced by several stitches from a sewing machine.

Another trickle of excitement ran through his cock.

She hadn't just cut a hole in them, she had gone to the extra effort to make sure that it would stand up to the additional stress of having a cock thrust through the opening.

Why had she gone to such trouble? In fact, why had she done it all? Curious thing for a mother to do, he thought. Then as he recalled their confrontation in her room, her reaction could have hardly been considered typical. She had seemed to accept his behavior as a matter of routine. Not the reaction he had expected.

And now this. Was she trying to humiliate him or was there something else?

Something deeper and more sinister.

He stopped trying to guess the intent behind her creation. Just the fact that she had ruined a pair of her pantyhose to create what could be described as an erotic costume for him sent a shiver up his spine.

Whatever her reason, it elicited a very sexual response in him. Was that queer or maybe she thought he was gay? Why did he get such a charge out of his mother's underwear? Was he a freak? Did other boys get the same thrill from touching and playing with their mother's undies?

If he was deranged, then what about his mother? How many mother's would purposely mutilate a pair of their hose just so their son could wear them?

With all these unanswered questions twirling about his head, he frantically stripped his clothes off.

Shivering with excitement and anticipation, he sat down on the edge of his bed. Holding the panty hose up, he felt a tiny pinch of regret. With the crotch gone, he wouldn't be able to bury his nose into it and drink in the rich, erotic aroma of her musky scent.

Quickly wadding the hose into a ball in his fists, he arched his foot and slowly slipped his toes into the silky sheath. Then he casually extended his leg and leisurely pulled the slippery pink nylon up his foot, around the curve of his heel, up over the swell of his calf, knee and then finally up the thickness of his muscular thigh stopping with the twisted roll of material bunched just below swollen cock. Stopping for a moment, he smoothed the cool, clinging smoothness of the material down his leg. Then he moved to repeat the process on his other leg. The soft, coolness of the nylon on his skin felt exhilarating as he ran his hands down his leg, smoothing the glossy pinkness of the silky material.

With the pink hose gathered into a tight band just below his big, hairy balls and the cheeks of his ass, he stood up. Running his thumbs down his thighs, he slipped them under the band of springy material Then slowly, he eased the sheer pinkness up over his ass and cock. As he did, his big, dangling balls slithered out the opening as the thin, gauzy pinkness held his thick, swollen cock pinned against his stomach. Tugging the hose up his hips as far as they would go, he dug his hand down inside them and forced his bloated prick down through the hole his mother had created. Finally, his rigid eight inch boner sprang through the opening, jutting out ripe and hard.

Standing in front of the mirror looking down at himself, he felt a narcissistic pride in his big, inflated prick.

Then the parallel struck him. His cock was sticking out through a hole in his mother's panty hose. Did the hole, put there by his mother have symbolic significance? Had she meant for it to have a metaphorical meaning.

Could she have meant that...

A shudder went through his body and his cock began to jerk and spurt thick, heavy streams of gummy cum out onto the mirror.

"AwwwFucckkkkk," he growled as his hips pistoned back and forth, fucking the imagery filling his brain. Gob after gob of his thick, virulent semen flew from his cock through the air and splashed onto the mirror. Again and again, it bucked and spurted until he was emptied. Gasping for breath, he fell back on the bed and lay there for several minutes.

Finally, he was able to sit up. Seeing the mess he had made on his mirror, he shamefully slipped the panty hose off and used them to try and clean the splattered mirror. But he only smeared the gooey cream all over the place.

Giving up, he tossed the pantyhose on top of his dresser and got a towel to clean up the mess. Then he hurried in and took a quick shower. He had just gotten dressed again when his mother and father arrived home...

"How did school go today, dear?" His mother asked innocently as he sat down to supper.

"Uh, fine," he muttered, blushing again.

"Oh, did you find the pants I fixed for you?"

What was she doing? Was she trying to embarrass him to death right in front of his father?

Tossing a quick look at his father, David saw that he oblivious to the electricity arcing between David and his mother. He just sat there reading his paper.

"Uh, yeah, uh, sure," he mumbled, his face afire with humiliation.

"Oh, did you notice that I put a few extra stitches in them for you?" She smiled guilelessly, "I hope that they worked."

"Uh, yeah, uh, I noticed. Uh, thanks."

Thankfully his mother didn't bring the subject up again during the meal, and immediately after David finished eating, he rushed back up to his room...

Friday morning, Gloria woke after David and Donald had gone. She could sleep in since she didn't have to be at work until nine while both of them usually left around seven.

Lying in bed, she languorously stretched and yawned. Grimacing, she felt the sting of the burning pain between her legs. It was still there. She couldn't remember the last time it hadn't been there. It was her constant companion. And it was growing in intensity with each passing day. Would Saturday never get here, she grumbled. Then, she suddenly sat up, sending her big breasts into convulsions of motion. Throwing her feet off the bed, she jumped up and slipped into her night robe. Naked underneath it, she quickly padded down to David's room.

"David, are you in there?" She asked loudly, hearing her voice reverberate through the empty house.

Hearing no answer, she slowly eased his door open and peeked inside. His room was in its usual state of disarray, but that was no surprise to her.

It was always a mess. Stepping inside, she searched the room with her eyes, looking for the panty hose she had left for him yesterday. Then she saw them, wadded into a ball and lying on top of his dresser. Threading her way through the litter on the floor, she stepped over to the dresser and picked them up. As they unraveled, saw that they were covered with a coating of dried, flaky, white residue.

"Oh, My goodness," she gushed, realizing it was dried semen.

Why, he must have masturbated with her panty hose, she thought.

A perverse chill ran through her as she recalled the image of him stroking himself yesterday.

Blushing uncontrollably, she wadded her hose back up and fled back to her bedroom.

What had she done, she asked herself. It was her son she was toying with, not some guy she had the hots for. How could she have done such a thing?

Then the sight of him standing in front of her mirror with her hose on flashed across her mind again.

She felt another flush of excitement wash over her as the poison of lechery coursed through her bloodstream.

As wicked and wrong as it was, she couldn't stop herself.

Her malignant appetite for sex knew no bounds. Even if it drove her to taunt and tease her own son with it.

Throwing open her lingerie drawer, she ran her fingers over the rows of frilly undergarments. Finally, she plucked out a pair of hose. Then she jerked out a matching set of panties and garter belt. Unfolding the panties, she smiled wickedly, wondering what David would think when he saw that they were crotchless.

God what a Jezebel she had become. How could she justify leading her son on like this? Teasing him with brief flashes of her true sexuality. Taunting him with her most suggestive lingerie.

Catering to his unusual sexual tastes. Why was she leading him on this way? She couldn't answer her own question, but deep inside she knew it was fueled by her incurable addiction to sex. She needed sex so badly, she couldn't think straight. Her every thought was tainted by its insidious hold on her. And it was slowly driving her crazy.

Someday, she knew she would have to pay what she was doing, even with that threat hanging over her head, she didn't stop. The demon in her brain urged her own, pushing her down the hallway to David's bedroom.

Sweeping a clear spot on his bed, she laid the panties and garters down first and then covered them with the hose. Then, as she started to leave his room, she stopped. Walking over to his desk, she picked up a piece of paper and pencil. Writing out a short note, she tossed the pencil down and gently laid the note on top of her gift to her son.

That ought to get a rise out of him, she laughed to herself, traipsing back to her room...

That afternoon, David didn't make his customary stop at the kitchen. He rushed straight up to his room wondering if his mother had left him another surprise. Throwing open the door, he saw that she had and it lying in the middle of his bed.

He could see that she had left a pair of royal blue hose with a piece of paper lying on top of them. Hurrying across the room, he grabbed up the piece of paper. It was another note from his mother.

This one read "I saw how much you enjoyed my last surprise. So I brought you some more. I hope you enjoy these as much as you did my last gift."

This time she signed the note "Love, Mom."

A jolt of perverse excitement sparked through his prick. Why was she doing this?

Dropping the note, he picked up the hose. They were the old fashioned kind of hose. The kind with the reinforced tops and seams running down the back.

They were the kind women wore back in World War II. The kind all of the early pinups wore. Except they were royal blue instead of brown.

Then he saw the panties and garter belt. They were so skimpy and blue like the hose, he almost overlooked them in his excitement. Picking them up, a stronger shiver of excitement shot through his throbbing cock when he saw the black lace edging running down the split in the center of the panties.

Jeez, they were crotchless.

His mother actually wore crotchless panties? He had thought that only nymphomaniacs or women like that wore crotchless panties. His opinion of his mother's virtue continued in its rapid and deleterious nosedive.

Then he asked himself why was he surprised that she wore crotchless panties when she hadn't worn any to the party.

It was just too much to sort out in his present frenzied state of sexual excitement.

Dropping the lingerie to the bed, it only took David seconds to strip his clothes off clothes.

Looking over at the mirror, he admired the way his big, heavy cock lolled about indolently every time he moved.

Turning back to the bed, he shivered with eager anticipation. What should he put on first, he wondered.

Then he picked one of the hose. Making it ready to slip on, he found it easier to roll into his fist than the panty hose because he only had one leg to deal with. Then he quickly slipped it over his foot and slowly pulled it up his leg. The soft, slick material easily slid over his skin caressing it with its clinging tightness. Pulling on the other hose, he smiled as he noticed that his cock was already rising to the occasion Then with the shimmering blue hose on, he ran his hands down his legs, reveling in the silky smoothness of the nylons. Reaching down, picked up the mesh panties. Looking at them, he saw that the waistband was black while the material of panties themselves was a sheer blue mush trimmed with black lace. Shaking them out, he hurriedly pulled them up his hairy legs and around his hips. As he pulled the waistband up over his cock, it caught momentarily. Then inching the panties higher, he watched his cock flop out of the lacy black opening dissecting the front of the panties. The flowery frills bordering the centerline slit in the panties now formed two borders, running down each side of his heavy, hardening cock. Another shiver of excitement ran through his cock and it slowly struggled to lift it big purple head.

Then he grabbed the matching garter belt and wrapped it around his firm, hard belly. Quickly fastening it around his waist, he pulled the long, black straps down to the top of the hose and hooked them on one by one until all four of the thongs were attached.

Looking into the mirror, he laughed when he saw the seams running down the back of his hose were crooked. Imagine what his friends at school would think if they could see him now. The school's star running back, running around in women's panties and hose.

I bet they would crap in their pants, he roared. Then watching in the mirror, he reached down and straightened the backseam of the hose as well as he could.

Staring at his reflection in mirror, he felt another flutter of excitement.

Not bad, he thought. Sexy, if he had to say so himself. The blue color of the hose matched the blue of his eyes. And it almost hid the hairs on his legs and the frilly blue panties and garters served as an erotic back-drop for his jutting prick, sticking out and bobbing up and down with each movement he made. Grinning at himself, he turned first one way then the other, admiring his reflection in the mirror.

Then he had a brainstorm. His mother had a Polaroid camera in her room.

Why not take a couple of pictures of himself. Hardly able to contain his eagerness, he bounded down to her room. He was so excited, his prick jutted straight up in the air as he searched through her drawers for the camera.

Then he found it.

Examining it, he saw that it had four unexposed pictures left.

Looking around for a place to set it, he saw the top of her dresser was the perfect height. Quickly adjusting the distance and brightness, he set the camera down and flicked the timer switch. Quickly stepping back away from the camera, he posed until the camera flashed. Then another pose and another flash. He repeated the act until all four of the pictures lay on her dresser top. Smiling to himself, he spread them out. Front view with his cock pointing directly at the camera, side view with his cock sticking out and up, other side view showing the same thing and then rear view showing his firm, hard butt bisected by the frilly blue straps of her garter. Then as he watched them process, he had another inspiration.

Why not leave them for his mother? After all, she had picked out his ensemble. Wouldn't she want to know what he looked like in it?

But wait a minute, he paused. It was his mother.

She wasn't some teeny bopper he was trying to impress. Or some hooker he was showing off in front of. How could he take a picture of himself with a hard on and show it to his mother? She was his mother!

But, she had put the lingerie in his room, hadn't she?. What the heck, he would just be showing her what he looked like in the clothes she had left for him. What would be wrong with that? Wouldn't she want to see what he looked like in what she had picked for him? Why, she had said he looked nice in her pantyhose. Maybe she derived some bizarre sense of excitement in seeing men dressed up in women's clothes. Or, seeing her son dressed in her underwear.

He had finally convinced himself. Waiting for another couple of minutes to make sure the pictures were dry, he opened her drawer and solemnly laid them on top of a pile of her panties. He slowly closed the drawer and put the camera away. Walking toward the door, he stopped. Then, with a perverse grin, he walked over to the writing table where his mother kept her stationery. Leafing through the several different types, he found one with little hearts across the top. Picking up her pen, he scribbled out a quick note.

Still smiling, he folded the note, opened her drawer and put on top of the pictures. Easing the drawer shut, he turned and then hurried out of her room. He didn't want to get caught in her room a second time, although getting caught by her had had some strange and exciting consequences. He wished he could be there to see her reaction when she found the in her lingerie drawer. But, what more appropriate place for them...

Friday for Gloria crawled by at the speed of a dead snail. She was totally useless. She couldn't think about anything but SEX. Would Saturday never get here, she thought as she opened the door to her office and looked out.

door.

"Amy, I'm going to leave my door open," told her secretary. "My office is stuffy."

"Do you want me to call maintenance?"

"No, I'll be fine."

Strolling back to her desk, she sat down and pretended to be working. Then looking up, she watched Reggie Phipps, the head lawyer of their firm, walk over to one of the secretary's desks.

What kind of dick would he have, she found herself wondering. It would probably be big and thick. Probably six or seven inches long, and so big around it would barely fit inside her aching cunt. Then as she absent-mindedly stared at him, she saw him looking at her. Suddenly, she realized she had been staring at his crotch.

God, she thought to herself as she blushed and looked back down at the brief she was working. I'm going crazy. If I don't have sex soon, I'm going to have to rape some poor man.

Just then, Don Morris came walking down the hallway toward her office. Her eyes dipped to his crotch and followed it as he came closer and closer. Was that an obvious bulge in his pants or was her overactive imagination creating one? His penis would be long and thin, she surmised. Eight or nine inches long, but skinny, just like him. What would it feel like to get fucked with a pencil dick, she wondered. But at the moment, I'll settle for any kind of dick, she complained to herself. Then he turned and continued down the hallway away from her office.

Then Brad stopped by her office. Stopping at her door, he leaned against it.

"Still on for handball tomorrow," he asked her innocently.

Her eyes immediately dropped to his crotch and saw that there was a distinct bulge there. She didn't have to guess what his cock was like, because she had already had her hands on it. And soon, she would feel it inside her, she thought as a shiver of expectation ran through her.

"Huh?" she asked him, shaking her head and trying to clear the image of his stiff, hard cock from her brain.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Oh, sure," she laughed drunkenly, "just tired."

"Not too tired to play hand ball tomorrow, I hope," he reiterated.

"Oh, No, never," she laughed neurotically, "Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

"Okay," he laughed back at her, "I'll be waiting for your call."

"Okay."

He turned and walked away.

Under her desk, she spread her legs and let her hand wander up her thigh and onto her panties. Running her fingers down the front of her panties, she could feel the wetness of her excitement seeping through them. God, she thought, I'll be dribbling on the floor if I don't stop fantasizing about cocks. Pulling her hand back up on the desk, she slapped her legs back together just as Phipps walked into her office.

"Uh, Gloria," he said softly, leaning down so that Amy couldn't hear him. "I was wondering if you would like to come in and help me with the Clayton deposition tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" She smiled up at him.

"Why, yes," he smiled back at her, "there won't be anyone else here and we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Why, Reggie, "she blinked, smiling demurely, "just the two of us? All alone in the office? All by ourselves?"

"Uh, yes, " he said as his confident smile broadened.

"Well," she said, pausing for effect, "I would have to check with Donald."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course," he huffed, stepping back, the certainty gone from his smile.

"But," she smiled up at him innocently as she secretly ran her fingers up the side of his leg, "I will let you know. Sometimes, he has to go out of town for the weekend."

"Oh, my, why, yes, yes, you do that," he laughed, hope returning to his voice, "you do that."

"I will," she laughed as he turned to walk away, "I will."

"In fact," he smiled and winked, "why don't you take off now and see if you can find a way to convince him to let you come in tomorrow."

"I think I'll do that," she smiled tiredly. "I think I'll do just that."

Too bad, Reggie, she thought to herself, as she closed the brief on her desk. You're just not my type. I like them young and hard. Not old and shriveled like yours probably is. But, maybe I'll just play you along to see how much I can get out of you, before I break the bad news to you.

Grinning at her little joke, she got up and told Amy she was calling it a day. Leaving the office, she made a bee line to their neighborhood bar where she had a couple of drinks to quieten the clamoring voices inside of her head that were pleading for sex Then, feeling a little tipsy and bolder, she carefully drove home...

"David, are you sun-burned?" His father asked him as he sat down at the dinner table.

"Uh, Yeah, I guess, uh, a, uh, little," he lied, stammering.