The beautiful blond in the skimpy cheerleader outfit was on her knees now. As the music pumped away in the background, she began to pump her mouth on her boss's fat cock. "Am I doing all right?" she asked, his dick poking her in the cheek.

God, Tommy thought, she's doing fantastic! He pounded away at his cock, careful to keep his handkerchief ready just in case he shot his wad as strong as all the guys in the video. Even in the darkened living room, lit only by the glow from the TV, he could see that his cock wasn't as big as theirs -- but who knew? Maybe size didn't matter.

On the screen, the girl was on her back now, her legs spread apart. The boss was feeding his hard rod into her pussy. The pink folds of her slit spread apart easily as his helmet popped in and his shaft drove up and down.

Tommy squeezed his own cock, his fingers flying up and down as he felt a burning sensation in his groin. His eyes were fixed on the pounding fuck on the TV as he beat off, when suddenly he felt the cum burst free within him. He barely had time to move the hankie up to cover his peehole when the orgasm took control, squeezing his eyes shut as the jism boiled out of him.

When the young boy opened his eyes a few seconds later, he was disappointed to see only a tablespoonful or so of gooey white stuff in his hankie. It was a split-second later that he realized he could see it so clearly because the lights were on. He spun around toward the kitchen archway, stuffing his cock back into his slacks and zipping up.

"Mom! What are you doing home so soon?"

"Your dad and his buddies decided to see the all-night "Chainsaw Massacre" marathon and I bailed on them -- where's your babysitter?"

Tommy looked at her from under his dark bangs, adopting his "little angel" look. "Mrs. Scarpone? She's upstairs. She put Willie to bed and then she said she was sleepy too so I let her use one of our sleeping bags. That's OK, right?"

"Yeah," his mom said, hesitatingly. "I guess."

"Oh, hey, and Mom? Look what she brought for us -- all this neat stuff she had left over from her retirement party. See, there's mixed nuts, and fruit, and this stuff -- I think it's some kind of cheese, but it's too stinky so I didn't have any. And it looks like snot."

"That's supposed to look like that, honey. So -- what were you watching?"

"Watching? Oh, you mean on the TV?" While he spoke, Tommy poked blindly at the remote control. He hit the wrong button and on the screen a wad of spunk flew back into the guy's cock. Finally he stabbed at the right button and the tape stopped.

By then his mom was standing next to him. Briefly it occurred to Tommy that she wasn't wearing much more than the cheerleader had. His mom had on a pale yellow blouse, with the tails tied across her stomach, a pair of short white shorts and sneakers. She wasn't built as well as the girls in the video, but when he looked at the cleft between her breasts -- he could just see the top of it -- he felt a little stirring in his now-soft dick. That was weird, and a little scary. He'd always thought of her as just Mom, not a woman or anything. But now that he thought about it, she had nice legs, too.

His daydreaming was interrupted as his mom snatched up the remote control.

"Was that a porno tape?" She pushed the Play button and the TV screen was filled with the image of a thick cock disappearing into a milky white ass. His mom watched for a second. "Oh," she said, " 'Debbie Does Dallas.' "

"You've seen it?" Tommy looked up at her in surprise.

"Yeah, back in college, I -- Hey, that doesn't matter. Tommy, where did you get this?"

"Uh -- I found it?"

"OK -- and where did you find it?"

"Around?" The little boy looked up at her brightly.

"That's not good enough, Tommy. Now, come on. Where did you 'find' it? Did you get this from one of the kids at school?"

"No," he said quickly.

"Then who?"

"Well --" He stalled, trying to decide which would get him in the least trouble -- the truth, a lie or just avoiding the question.

"Come on, Tommy, I want the truth."

He decided to go for it. "I found it in Dad's office -- it was in one of his file drawers, under 'S, ' " he blurted out.

"Your father's office? Tommy, you know you're not supposed to go in there. You..." She went on and on. Tommy hung his head. Chose wrong, he thought -- she didn't want the truth after all. But, as she kept talking, it occurred to him that it was better to get yelled at for going into Dad's office than for watching the video. That hopeful idea was crushed when his mom abruptly switched tracks.

"But, hey, wait a minute. We can talk about his office some other time. What we need to talk about is what's on this tape. Just how much did you see?"

"Uh -- all of it?"

His mom sat down beside him on the couch and put an arm over his shoulders.

"Do you know about..." she began.

"Sex?" He broke in quickly, hoping to cut her off. "Yeah, they told us all about it in school. We don't have to talk."

His mom laughed. "All about it? Tommy, I've got two kids and I don't know all about it. Like how that girl took the guy up her..." She blushed. "Uh, look, Tommy, what I wanted to say is, if you have any questions about, you know, sex and stuff, you can ask me."

He looked up at her and opened his mouth.

"Or your dad," she added. "That's it! Ask your dad. Anything!"

Tommy's shoulders slumped. "Oh, OK," he said. He hated to ask his dad about anything serious. Dad always made a joke out of it. Well, Mom made jokes, too, but she didn't put hers in the paper every week for everyone to read.

"Oh, Tommy, I'm sorry," his mom said, hugging him to her. "I didn't mean to blow you off. I mean, I did, but I shouldn't. Look, I -- Oh!"

Tommy followed her eyes down to his crotch and saw a dark stain spreading across it. Oh great, he thought, now she'll think I pissed my pants like a baby.

"It's not that," he blurted out. "It's cum. I was jacking off. I..." He saw the look of shock on his mother's face and realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that he'd made the wrong choice again. It would have been a lot better if she thought it was piss, he knew.

His mom was staring down at him, open-mouthed. "You -- masturbated? Honey, I didn't think you were old enough."

"I'm not a kid," he said defiantly. "I can get a hard-on and stuff, just like anybody. It happens lots, whenever I see pretty girls."

"Uh, Tommy, I -- I just -- I mean, I never saw you with one around the house. I -- what am I saying? Of course not, the only woman you see around the house is me."

Tommy didn't like it when his mom put herself down. She wasn't half as bad as some of the other kids' moms. He tried to make her feel better.

"I get 'em at home, too," he said, "from seeing you."

"You do? Wow, that's -- I mean, oh, dear, you shouldn't -- from seeing me?"

"Sure. See, it's getting stiff now!" Triumphantly Tommy yanked open his zipper, freeing his cock to poke through the opening. It didn't look too impressive, not after the ones he'd seen on the video. He started yanking on it to make it grow.

"Stop that," his mom said sharply.

With a thud, Tommy realized what he was doing. Pulling his prick right in front of his mother! His hand froze in mid-stroke. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said. "I didn't mean to -- I didn't know what I was doing."

"Hey, Tommy, I understand," she said. "But is that how you do it?"

"What do you mean? Isn't that how everyone does it?"

"I mean you were so rough, honey. Holding it so tight and pulling it so hard. Doesn't that hurt?"

"I thought it was supposed to," Tommy said.

"No, honey, it's not," his mother said. "Look, masturbating is a perfectly normal thing. But you shouldn't be yanking on it like that. You just hold it gently and, um, rub, you know."

"But if I don't hold it tight, nothing happens."

His mom reached down and circled her fingers around his shaft. They were warm and soft, and she slowly tightened them until they fit snugly but didn't squeeze. "Like this," she said, and she began to stroke his cock up and down. Quickly it hardened and lengthened. This felt different than when he'd jerked himself off, and not just because she wasn't being rough. Somehow, having someone else do it made it better.

"You see what I mean, Tommy? You can be easy on it and still make it work. How does that feel?"

"Wow, that feels great, Mom," the young boy sighed. "Man, my cock feels great."

Even as he said it, Tommy knew he'd used the wrong word. His mom immediately stopped stroking.

"Oh, God," she said, "what am I doing?"

"Don't stop," Tommy pleaded, putting his hands around hers. "Please, please, Mom, keep it going! It felt so good!" He bucked his hips up, sliding his cock through her fingers. "Come on, Mom, please!"

"Tommy, we shouldn't be doing this," she said, but even as she spoke she started moving her hand up and down on his shaft. "I'm your mother, you know. I can't be..." she drifted off into silence, still rubbing his cock. It grew and grew and a tiny bead of goo appeared on the tip. She swept it up in her hand and rubbed it all over the rod.