Kathy Andrews
Hot action with mom

CHAPTER ONE

Sharon and Bobby sat at a small table, sipping sodas and watching the crowd move up and down the enormous shopping mall. Sharon felt the wetness in the crotch of her panties as she watched her son. He boldly watched the woman and girls, his eyes bright with yearning pleasure.

Sharon didn't mind, too much, that her son had this obvious interest in women and girls. He was very young, but apparently not so young he did not appreciate the beauty of a curving, swelling ass; the thrust of full, shapely tits; the sway of rounded hips; or the long, tantalizing legs flashing between short skirts and tight, revealing shorts.

They had always been open with each other, much more than most mothers and sons. When Bobby found a deep interest in something, he always let his mother know about it, no matter what it was. First it was his models, then it was baseball, then comics, and now it seemed to be women, or girls, or a combination of both.

He was, after all, a boy. And boys, sooner or later, discovered girls. They began feeling the first bubbling stir of erotic sensations in those preciously young balls, and the need to find a [missing text].

[missing text] without a jiggle of movement. Her rounded hips swayed sensuously, her teasing thighs exposed almost to her ass by the recently revived fashion of the miniskirt. The girl was carrying books and she paused about ten feet from Sharon and Bobby, peering into a novelty shop window. She dropped her books, and leaned over to pick them up. She didn't squat in the normal way of a woman, but leaned with her legs straight.

There was a brief flash of her creamy ass checks, half of them exposed below the tight, pale-blue panties.

Bobby made a moaning sound as he looked. Sharon felt a stab of unusual heat in her.

It was because she had seen the girl's ass, but because he made such an obviously hungry [missing text].

[missing text] the ass cheeks bunching as she walked.

"Ahhhh, so pretty," Bobby murmured, and Sharon noticed his right hand was below the small table.

"Don't drool," she whispered, knowing he was probably pressing his hand on his hard cock.

He flashed his mother a grin, and quickly turned to watch the woman's succulent ass bounce from view.

This open honesty between her and Bobby had always been there. There were few secrets between them. She didn't think her son kept any secret from her. He didn't go out of his way to hide to jack off, didn't make any particular effort to conceal the fact. She could have walked in on him a number of times. She was sure her son wouldn't mind, and would probably welcome her presence, enjoy having her watch him pump his hand up and down his cock, watch the gush of that boiling, thick come juice spurt from his balls and cock.

No, she didn't think her son kept any secrets from her.

But Sharon kept a few from him.

She kept bidden this rowing need inside her own body, this almost maddeningly insatiable hunger to allow her son to see her dressed in revealing clothing, this constant bubbling heat of her cunt. She refused to accept the messages of her mind that she desired her son, desired his cock, desired to fuck him. She liked his boldness, his unhesitating way of saying exactly what he had on his mind.

Sitting there, watching her son gaze hotly at the women and girls, she felt the crazy urge to slide her hand to him, to see if he did, indeed, have a hard-on under the table. But all she could do was sit there in her wet panties and try to imagine his cock bulging up inside his pants.

"Let's go, Mom," he said.

She knew he would want to leave as soon as he felt the heat in his young balls. Watching so many pretty women and girls, with his erotic interest in them, Bobby couldn't remain long without going off to pound his cock until he came. She knew that quite well.

In the car with her son beside her, she kept her eyes averted from the obvious swell inside his pants. That was another thing her son didn't conceal; when he had a hard-on, he allowed it to thrust and strain out until he finally went off to jack it frantically. Every time Sharon noticed his cock was hard, she fought to keep her eyes away, pretending she wasn't aware of it. Now, beneath the wheel of the car, her skirt crept a few inches past her knees. With a blush on her pretty face, she left it there.

She had never before allowed her skirt to hike up. This time, she made a special, very difficult, effort to leave it alone.

As soon as they were inside the house, Bobby took off for the bathroom. But this time there was a difference; Bobby was opening his pants as he almost ran.

Sharon paced about the floor, going from the living room to the kitchen, and back again. Knowing her son was in the bathroom jacking off disturbed her greatly. The palms of her hands itched, and the throb of her clit was pronounced more than ever before. She could feel the lips of her cunt swelling up, and the crotch of her panties was drenched with the slippery juices oozing from her pussy. She tried to visualize her son there, sitting perhaps on the toilet, his legs wide, his precious cock standing straight up, his fist wrapped about it, squeezing, pumping and pounding, his lovely balls jiggling.

She stood in the middle of the living room, pressing the heel of one hand into her crotch, the cheeks of her ass tightening. She closed her eyes, lifting her head upward, moaning softly. She twisted her hips, then made humping motions, jerking her ass back and forth slowly.

The orgasm was mild, whetting her hunger for more, stronger orgasms.

If only she could be bold, fuck her son. If only she could do something with him, anything to cool the overheated bubbling of her cunt. She could satisfy herself and her son at the same time. This way was nothing but pure torture, she tried to tell herself.

Sharon rationalized no one would ever know.

She had no living relatives, and therefore I neither did Bobby. His father had been an only child, too, and his fatal accident over five years before had left them both alone in the world. Sharon had no really close friends. She was a loner, preferring it that way.

Who would be hurt?

There was a vague, nagging suggestion in the back of her mind that she shouldn't fuck her son, that it was wrong in some way. She tried to tell herself that was only a cultural demand. Other societies had no such qualms, she had heard. She wanted to take her son's cock into her cunt, fuck him wickedly, feel the hard thrust of his young cock going deep into her pussy. She was certain her son would do it, would fuck her with happiness.

Yet, something held her back.

But there had to be some way, some method, that would satisfy them both, end this torment they were both feeling.

The idea was only vague in her mind when Bobby came back into the living room. She was sitting on the couch, her legs crossed, elbow resting on the arm, her chin in her hand, considering the idea.

Bobby sat down on the other end of the couch, picking up a paperback book he had been reading the night before. He had found science fiction, and devoured the books ravenously. Sharon swung her crossed foot, feeling the friction on her cunt.

"You do that very often, don't you, honey?" she said, her voice so low and throaty she hardly recognized it.

Bobby nodded, unhesitatingly.

Sharon swung her foot, making the muscles of her thigh work against her cunt. She peeked at him from the corners of her eyes, wishing her son would speak, tell her bluntly that he jacked off frequently. She let her gaze move to his lap, trying to picture his cock and balls. Her clit was knotted tightly, and her panties were so wet they were uncomfortable. Her skirt pulled slightly away from her knee, working along her thigh slowly from the movement of her foot.

"Twice a day," she asked, her voice at throaty whisper. "Three times a day, maybe?"

Bobby lowered his book, looking at his mother. He saw her knee, and watched with interest while her skirt slipped another inch along her thigh.

"Sometimes four," he said, his own voice suddenly thick.

"Four? That many?" Sharon asked, feeling the heat starting on her lovely face. "I didn't know you did it that often."

"I do," he replied.

"The girl…" Sharon murmured, knowing he was gazing boldly at her exposed knee. "The one that dropped her books at the mall. She was very pretty, wasn't she?"

Bobby nodded.

"You saw… everything, didn't you?"

"Pretty ass," Bobby said bluntly.

Sharon felt a catch in her chest. Her face burned with shyness, but her cunt was boiling. She swung her foot faster and faster.

"Yes, she… it was nice," she agreed, her voice hoarse.

"She probably does it, Mom," Bobby said, his cock swelling inside his pants. "She probably does it all the time."

"You'd love to do it with her, wouldn't you?"

Bobby swallowed, nodding his head. His mother's skirt was past her knees quite a ways now, almost half her thigh showing. He had never known his mother to allow so much skin to show, and he was quite interested in how much more she would let him see before pulling the skirt down.

"Did you think about doing it to her when you… when you were in the bathroom?" Sharon asked, feeling the heat of her blush scalding now. She was embarrassed to even talk this way, but something was pushing her, forcing her to keep on.

Bobby looked up at his mother's face. He saw how pink it was, but he saw, too, the smoldering expression in her blue eyes. Sharon tried to hold his gaze, but couldn't. She lowered her eyes, licking her full lips. She saw how high her skirt was, and for a moment, from habit, she almost shoved it down. Her hand stopped just before she touched the hem, her foot swinging back and forth faster and faster. She felt her cunt aching with heat, her clit smashed between the wet folds. She pulled her hand back and let it drop on the couch.

Bobby caught the gesture, the hesitation, and a glow came into his eyes.

"When you're doing that, do you ever think of me?" Sharon asked, her voice very, very low, shy.

"Sometimes, Mom," Bobby admitted, his cock now straining hard inside his pants, outlined along the fly, the head of his cock inching up toward his belt.

Sharon couldn't resist peeking.

A low moan escaped her tight throat as her cunt convulsed with an orgasm. She balled her fist up near her hip, the other one on her chin pressing hard. She drew her swinging foot back, curling it about her lower leg, the pressure of her thigh hot against her contracting cunt. The blush on her face became fiery, and she felt very shy, knowing her son could tell she was coming.

Bobby gazed at his mother with interest. He saw her thigh muscles tighten below her skirt, the shudder of her shoulders.

The orgasm had been a bit stronger than the first one, but still not enough. She felt embarrassed because her son knew she came, but that fact also seemed to excite her.

"Did you come, Mom?" Bobby asked bluntly, his eyes sparkling with heat.

For a moment Sharon couldn't reply. Then, in one quick jerk of her head, she let him know she had. She couldn't turn to look at him, though. She stared down at her revealed knee, wishing she wasn't blushing so fiercely.

"Really?" Bobby asked, his voice showing his excitement. "You really came?"

"Yes," Sharon whispered, licking her lips again with her pink wet tongue, still not looking at her son.

"Good, huh?" Bobby said. "Coming sure makes a person feel good, huh, Mom?"

She caught the movement of his hand from the corners of her eyes and saw her son was rubbing his palm along his concealed cock. She couldn't make her eyes pull away. She licked at her lips quickly, then pulled in a deep breath. Her tits lifted beneath her summer sweater, her lungs filling with air. She heard a moan from her son, and felt his eyes on her straining tits. She exhaled, letting them fall slightly, but his eyes remained on her tits.

"Awwww, Mom!" Bobby suddenly gasped, and began to work frantically at his fly. "I just gotta jack off – now!"

Sharon's breath came again in her throat. This was the first open admission that he jacked off, and the first time he was deliberately exposing his cock to her. She caught the flesh of hardness as it came out of his pants, and then Bobby closed his fist about his cock and began to pump vigorously up and down.

Sharon gasped, looking straight at her son, her eyes seeing the swollen head of his cock bulging from his squeezing fist, the tiny piss hole flaring open, wet with seeping juices. Her cunt began to burn, a searing sensation that sent shivers up and down her spine. Her nipples became very hard, feeling as if they would burst inside her bra. She felt the burning on her face, yet she was mesmerized by the sight of her son's cock, by the way he was unashamedly jacking off before her.

"Bobby…" she whimpered.

"I gonna do it, Mom!" he grunted, pumping his fist up and dawn, his mouth hanging open, his eyes moving from her straining tits to her knee. Half her thigh was showing, and this seemed enough to excite her son to this intense hardness. "I just gotta jack off!"

"Bobby…" she said again, her eyes blazing as she watched his fist pounding up and down, the cockhead swelling even more than at first. "You… please… not here."

Bobby paid no attention to his mother. He jerked his fist up and down his hard cock faster and faster, his tongue almost hanging out. Sharon tried once, a feeble try, to move her eyes from his cock. She was blushing furiously, her tits swollen and her cunt painfully tight, her clit pressing past the wet folds of her pussy and onto the nylon cloth of her panties.

Bobby snaked his free hand out to her, and Sharon couldn't stop him as he drew her skirt higher on her thigh. She allowed him to pull her skirt almost to her hip, and then stopped him. She placed her hand on top of his, holding him so he couldn't lift her skirt any higher. An inch more and her panties would be exposed.

She stared openly at her son's cock now, giving in to the overpowering excitement of seeing him jack off. Her cheeks were almost a bright pink, her embarrassment deep, but there was that overwhelming desire to watch him, to see his fist pumping, his thick cock so very hard. The heat between her thighs increased, and she admitted to herself she wanted to see her son come, to see that creamy juice squirt from his prick.

Bobby didn't pull his hand back, but left it there. Sharon felt his fingers rubbing at her thigh, on her naked skin. She shivered, but it certainly wasn't from being chilled. She breathed deeply, her tits lifting and falling before her son's eyes. She knew Bobby could see her interest, and allowing him keep her skirt there, very close to her panties, Sharon realized she was consenting to this – and Bobby knew it.

Bobby turned on the couch, lifting a foot to the cushions, the other still on the floor. Sharon stared directly at him, his cock sending tremors of desire through her. She wanted to uncross her legs, to fling them as wick as she could, and rip her panties away, and scream at her son to shove that beautiful, hard cock into her cunt, to fuck her senseless. She wanted to do that desperately, but she didn't.

Bobby gasped hotly as he jerked on his cock. He kept looking at his mother, but was no longer touching her thigh since he had turned to face her. Sharon wanted to tell her son to lift his balls out, that she wanted to see them, too. She wanted to tell her son to push his pants down, let her see everything… but all she could do was sit there, whimpering softly, and watch him blatantly jacking off.

Once again she tried to control herself.

"Bobby, not here," she moaned. "Please, go to the bathroom… don't do it in front of me… I can't."

Bobby pumped faster and faster on his cock.

"I'm gonna come, Mom!" he groaned. "I'm gonna come soon!"

"That girl." Sharon whispered in a thick voice. "She did this to you, Bobby. Seeing her lean over, what she showed, excited you too much. Please, honey, not here. Don't do that in front of mother."

Bobby pounded away, the head of his cock bulging tightly, dripping more and more. Sharon flicked her tongue across her lips, her cunt starting to squeeze and suck inward, her clit feeling as if it were going to burst.

Bobby lifted his ass, arching his hips upward, his fist flying rapidly with short, jerking strokes.

He was about to come now, Sharon thought frantically, her eyes glazed as they fixed upon the flare of his piss hole.

She watched raptly, breathing in hot panting sounds.

Bobby started grunting, his hips shaking.

"Ohhhhh!" he groaned.

Come juice squirted from his cock, arcing up and then, downward. It landed on Sharon's thigh. She felt as if she had been burned there, as though his come juice would raise a blister on her unblemished thigh flesh. She gasped as he kept gushing thick spurts of come juice. Two more splashed onto her thigh, the rest of his jism spattering the couch between them.

It seemed a long time as Bobby gasped, still clinging to his cock. Sharon wasn't breathing normally, and I her eyes seemed riveted to her son's prick. She felt his come juice on her thigh.

She was very close to spasms again, refused to explode. It was driving her crazy. She wanted to come, badly, and she couldn't.

After a while longer, Bobby stood up, his cock dangling from his open pants, a silver string of jizz dangling from the head of his cock. She watched him walk toward the hallway, his cock hanging boldly out. He glanced back at his mother just before he disappeared down the hall.

Sharon sat stiffly, trembling. She stared at her thigh, seeing his come jucie glistening on her flesh, then at the small puddle of it on the cushions of the couch. The threatening orgasm seemed to keep building in the pit of her stomach, her cunt starting to contract as her clit throbbed.

She moved her finger into the puddle of cock cream on the couch, wiping through it. Then she used her palm to smear her son's jism into her thigh flesh. It was hot and slippery.

Then, with a groan, Sharon came.

The orgasm was so powerful, it doubled her over.