MOM LIKES IT ROUGH

Sitting in my room, I waited until I smelled the aroma of freshly made coffee. Taking a couple deep breaths, I swung open the door to my room and paraded as casually as possible to the kitchen for a steaming cup of joe. "Morning," I told Mom as I walked past her, managing to hold back my laughter as her eyes went wide, but as soon as she spat a mouthful of coffee across the table, I couldn't maintain a straight face.

"Lee Albert Miller! What is wrong with you?!"

"Nothing," I said as soon as I could catch my breath after laughing so hard.

"I didn't ask what you were wearing," she said, glaring at me as she used napkins to wipe up the coffee. "I asked what the hell is wrong with you!"

Still grinning, I shrugged again. "I'm naked, is that really a big deal?"

Quick to regain her composure, Mom crossed her arms just beneath her breasts, tilted her head to the right and considered me for a moment. "Can I ask why you're naked?"

"Just because," I said. "I like being naked. It feels good."

"Uh-huh," Mom said, not buying a word of it but nodding as if she completely understood my excuse for being naked. "Is this a sex thing or something else?"

"Mom!"

"I'm just asking," she said, smirking for the first time.

Trying to read her expression, I stared for a short moment, determined to call her bluff, even if she was bluffing. I couldn't tell. Her smirk said she was playing me but her body language made that unclear. "What if I say it is?"

"Yeah, what if?"

"Dammit Mom," I groaned, unwilling to let her flip the script on me. I loved her initial reaction. Seeing her spraying coffee halfway across the table had to be one of the funniest things I had ever seen. It wasn't easy getting the better of Mom.

"So, it's just a prank. Good one." She flashed a smile and looked back at her phone.

"Would you like me to warm up your coffee?" I asked, stepping around the counter, hoping to shock her again with my nakedness.

"That would be lovely, dear," she said, pushing her cup in my general direction. Her eyes wandered from my face to that place just below my navel that she hadn't seen in years. She stared directly at my manhood.

"Seriously?"

"If you're showing it off, I'm allowed to look."

I wasn't about to let her get the best of me. Laughing, I wiggled my hips and swung my dangling cock and balls from side-to-side. "See anything you like?

"It's very pretty," she said, still wearing that infernal, amused smirk. "I'm sure Sophie enjoys it very much."

I couldn't believe her. Pretty? Who calls man-parts pretty? "Maybe I should stay this way if you like seeing it so much."

"Maybe you should," she said, still smiling patiently as if I was showing off a new drawing I had made with my Crayola crayons instead of standing naked in front of her. Slowly, her gaze moved back to my face as she masterfully made my prank feel incredibly awkward. "Do you like being naked in front of your Mommy?"

What had started as a funny prank on her was turning into a prank on me. Sure, I had gotten a great initial reaction, but that was it. No way could she really be comfortable seeing me naked. "I don't know, do I?" I asked, grabbing at my cock, tugging on it, and threatening to get myself hard. "Maybe you'd like to really see it?"

"Oh baby," she purred in a sexy voice that sounded so foreign coming out of her mouth. She propped her chin on her hand and stared directly at my cock again. "Does it get really big?"

"Yeah, it does," I said, still pulling on my cock for a moment before realizing what I was doing. Was I really going to make myself hard in front of my Mom? I stopped. She was playing me. I could see it in her eyes. She didn't really want to see me hard, she only wanted to see how far I would go. I carried the coffee pot back into the kitchen.

"Aw, I thought I was going to get a show."

"You almost did," I admitted, pouring a cup of joe for myself. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Me?" she asked, laughing. "You made coffee shoot out my nose and I'm the impossible one?"

"I got you good, didn't I?" I asked, laughing with her.

"Here's the funniest part," she said, leaning over so she could slide her phone across the counter in my direction. "That was the article I was reading when you walked out like that." The headline read Ten Ways to Celebrate National Nude Day Without Getting Arrested.

"No way!" I laughed. Who knew such a day even existed? "Does this mean you're going to spend the day naked with me?"

"You're a day early. It's not until tomorrow," she pointed out, taking back her phone. "But I'll tell you what, if you stay naked all day today, I'll get naked with you tomorrow."

I blinked hard, she was kidding, right? "Seriously?"

"Why not?" she asked, grinning from ear-to-ear. "It might be fun." She lost her smile for the next part, "But you have to stay naked all day today, no matter what, and you can't spend the day hiding in your bedroom, either."

I could tell she was setting me up, trying to prank the prankster. "You're just hoping to see me hard, aren't you?"

She replied with a renewed smile and a twinkle in her eye. "I almost did."

"You don't think it's a little perverted wanting to see your son naked all day?"

"No more perverted than him prancing around naked in front of his mom in the first place."

She had me there. "And what if I do, you know, get excited?"

"Then I guess I'll get my show after all," she snickered. "You don't think you can keep yourself in control around your Mom?"

"Yes," I groaned. Although I could see why my friends thought she was hot, she was still my Mom. Mom had kept herself in shape and she wasn't afraid of showing off her effort by wearing painted on yoga pants that accentuated her tight, bubble butt and midriff-baring sport tops that showed off her flat stomach. Compared to most other Moms, my Mom truly was a MILF.

"Do we have a deal?"

What difference did it make? She had already seen me naked. Besides, if things got awkward, I could always change my mind. "Why not?"

"Good, now step around that counter and let me see you."

I groaned. "Seriously?" She nodded. Picking up my coffee cup, I stepped around the counter and leaned against it, crossing my legs at the ankles and trying to pretend that I wasn't naked despite her staring directly at my manhood. Her gaze felt like a visual caress and I began to worry about my ability to keep myself in control. "Enjoying yourself?"

"I am," she said, sipping at her coffee without moving her gaze. "When did you start shaving your balls?"

"Mom!" I complained, shocked that she would ask such an intimate question.

"I'm just asking. I like it. I've always thought guys should do as much grooming as girls."

"Are you shaved?"

"Guess you'll find out tomorrow." She took another sip of her coffee. "Is that what you prefer? Do you like it better when a girl shaves all the way?"

"You're trying to get me excited, aren't you?"

"I'm just asking," she insisted although the twinkle in her eyes told a different story. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"A little," I admitted, pulling out a chair and sitting down. At least she wouldn't see it if I got a little hard. Being slightly hidden felt better, it felt safer. "I like when they shave all the way."

"Mm, me too," she purred.

"Girls or guys?"

"Body hair is gross. I once dated a guy who was as furry as Bigfoot and I made him shave everywhere. His back. His chest. Everywhere."

She had danced around my question, avoiding it. Through the years, I had had reasons to wonder if Mom went both ways, but I had never asked her. Mom seldom admitted to dating. She would go out with a generic friend and sometimes spend the night. Sometimes, her generic friend had been a girl.

"Sophie did that to me once." That wasn't the complete truth, but close enough. The complete truth got complicated very fast.

"Do lots of guys do that?"

"Some do, I guess," I shrugged, knowing at least two other guys who had shaved their private parts. Ashton and Jared were the reason I had gotten shaved, too. "I don't think it's common, though."

"I've heard swimmers do it."

"Swimmers are gay," I pointed out, repeating a widely held rumor from my college. I wasn't sure how many where. I knew a couple of the guys on the dive team were gay, but that was it. Mostly, I meant that swimming wasn't a real sport like football.

"There's nothing wrong with being gay," she chided. I had triggered that automatic response. She hated whenever someone used "gay" as a slur. "And your Aunt Margo was a swimmer," she reminded me, referring to her younger sister.

"Does she shave everywhere?"

"As a matter of fact, she does," she said. "Spoiler alert, we both do. We always have."

I squirmed, frustrated because of the growth happening between my legs. While I thought I could keep myself in control around Mom, thinking about my Aunt Margo could change that. Aunt Margo's lean, swimmer body had inspired more fantasies than I would admit. Once removed from my Mom, Aunt Margo had felt like a safer fantasy. "She hit on me at graduation."

"She always had a thing for big guys," Mom said, back to looking more at her phone than me. At six feet, five inches, I definitely qualified as a big guy. Without bragging, I'll admit that I count as big in other ways, too. At my high school graduation party, a very drunk Aunt Margo had thrown herself hard at the eighteen-year-old version of me. I wished she would do it again. While I was only a year older, I felt much better equipped to accept her advances.

"If she's a swimmer, does that mean Aunt Margo gay?" I asked.

"Maybe."

"What about you?"

Mom considered me for a long moment before a sly smile appeared on her face. "Do you really want your Mom to answer that question?"

"I guess not," I said, feeling embarrassed for asking something so private. Getting up for a refill, I made it a point to turn my back on Mom as I stood so she wouldn't see the growth that had happened during our little talk. As I moved towards the kitchen, I caught her reflection in the glass of a picture hanging on the wall and caught her checking out my ass. Once I stepped around the counter, she had returned her gaze to her phone. I thought about something Sophie had once told me, "Girls check out guys all the time, we're just better at not getting caught doing it." That also explained how and why Aunt Margo would know I was gifted in the manhood department. She must have noticed an inadvertent hard-on.

"You really want me to stay naked all day?"

"You said it wasn't a sex thing."

"True," I admitted, pouring a second cup of coffee. When I had come up with the idea of shocking her with a bit of casual nudity, I didn't have sex on my mind, just surprising her in a funny way. Originally, I had planned on walking past her, getting coffee, and walking back to my room. End of joke. A little flash and nothing more. As much fun as it had been seeing her spray a mouthful of coffee across the table, staying naked felt very different than flashing her. "What about tomorrow?"

"What about it?" she asked, swiping rhythmically at her phone screen as she played one game or another.

"You said that if I stay naked all day today, you'll get naked with me tomorrow. Is that a sex thing?"

Setting down her phone, she looked directly at me. "Is that what you want it to be?"

"No!" I quickly answered, blushing and feeling very self-conscious.

A whimsical little smile tugged at the left corner of her mouth. "Are you sure?" I recognized that tiny smile, I had seen it all my life, especially when I was being a smartass to her. Mom was playing with me.

My friends never understood the special relationship we had. What Mom lacked in height, she made up for by being feisty. She was tiny and petite and I grew to be eye-to-eye with her by age ten. By the next year, I stood two inches taller than her five foot, two-inch frame. Looking up at me, she made it very clear how things would go for the rest of my life, "Just because you're bigger than me doesn't make you smarter."

Dad had bailed on us before my first birthday. I barely knew the man. My father figures were coaches and a mom who made sure her sports addicted son never missed a practice or a try-out. Mom was always there for me. When I was fifteen and my first crush broke my little heart, Mom had consoled me by pointing out, "She's a skank who will be pregnant by graduation." She was right, too.

As I neared graduation, I was a football star with a scholarship. Girls naturally liked me and I took advantage of their affectionate fawning. Mom never judged me for it. Instead, she would tease me about which girls were a prick tease and which girls would go all the way. Her ability to guess was remarkable. We were shopping at Walmart one afternoon after I had started to date one of the cheerleaders. Mom led me down the lotion aisle, picking out an extra large bottle of unscented lotion. Before putting it in the shopping cart, she held up to me and asked, "This is the one you use, right?"

Fighting against blushing that she knew which kind of hand lotion I preferred when I was jerking off, I tried to play it off with a noncommittal shrug.

"I'm just saying, if you keep dating that prick tease, you'll need a lot more of this. Trust me, she's never going to give it to you." She tossed it into the cart. Three weeks later, I gave her back that big bottle of lotion with a smirk. "No way," she grinned. "You're tapping that?"

Shaking my head, I confessed that she had been right. "Not her but her best friend."

Mom was never wrong. Maybe it's weird for your Mom to know your sex life, but I had gotten used to it. She could see right through me, including returning that big bottle of lotion to my bedroom. Mom correctly knew that even though I had a girlfriend, I would still want to jerk-off.

Remaining behind the cover of the counter for a moment longer, I struggled to hide the shocked look on my face. I could tell she was messing with me, so I decided to mess back with her. "Is seeing me naked a sex thing for you?" I wasn't expecting her answer.

"There would be something wrong with me if seeing a well-built, well-hung man naked didn't do something for me."

"Even if that person is your son?"

"Dick is dick, isn't it?" she asked with a playful twinkle in her eyes before she made it even worse. "And you've got a nice one."

"Mom!" I protested, pretending to be more shocked than I felt. In truth, her words felt like a compliment. Growing up, I had never met one of her boyfriends. If she had a date, she would hire a sitter or park me overnight at Aunt Margo's house. I once asked her why she didn't have a boyfriend. She just hugged me and said I was her boyfriend. When I turned eighteen, I became exactly half her age. When I turned nineteen, I had joked that I was catching up to her. I didn't need my perverted friends to tell me how good my Mom looked. Her full-sized breasts rode proudly on her small frame, attracting as much attention as her shapely, bubble butt.

"I'm just sayin'," she shrugged, picking up her phone again.

"You're just sayin' you like seeing your son naked."

"Come over here," she said, waving me to step back around the counter. "Let me see you again."

"Pervert," I teased, doing it just the same. Then I heard the shutter sound of the camera on her phone. "Did you just take my picture?"

"No," she lied, taking another one before touching her screen and snapping off two more.

"Cut it out," I laughed, covering my hanging nudity.

"Maybe I should send these to your Aunt Margo. I bet she'd love to see them."

"And how would you explain to your sister having a naked picture of me?"

"From what you just said about your graduation party, she would probably like it."

"I thought you said she was gay." I sat back down again.

"I said she was a size queen." As she examined the pictures she had taken I noticed the twin points pressing against the sports top she wore.

"Are you getting excited?"

"Are you?" she asked, holding her phone beneath the table and snapping off another picture of my nakedness.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I laughed, shocked and unable to believe how silly she was being.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to go naked."

"You better delete those pictures."

"No way," she laughed. "I'm going to send them to Sophie."

"If you do, tomorrow I'll send her pics of you."

"Mm, I've never been with a black chick."

Stunned, I stared at my mom. "Does that mean you've been with a white girl?"

"It was called college," she said, swiping and tapping at her phone as she went back to playing one of her little games. She loved all those damn cell phone games.

"No way," I gasped, still shocked by the revelation that my mom went both ways. That made me wonder something else. "Have you ever been with a black man?"

"Shit," she cussed at her phone before answering the question. "Yes, but it took three of them before I found one that really had a big black cock."

"I can't believe you," I said, shaking my head while wondering what had gotten into her. We had never talked this openly about her sexuality. "Did you do them all in one night?"

"No," she objected. "But it was all in the same week." Still poking and swiping at her phone, she recapped a crazy spring break trip made two years after I had been born and one year after Dad has bailed on us. Giving up on her game, she looked up at me. "Grandpa would shit if he knew I spent that spring break sucking black cock."

"Mom!" I cried out, shocked by her language as much as her honesty.

"Come on, you know he's racist as hell."

"Not why I'm laughing," I pointed out.

Giggling, she figured it out. "Oh, the big black cock part? I'm not really a size queen, but again, it was college, I was curious, and it was fun."

"But what about tomorrow?" Mom asked, looking disappointed as she brought her hidden hand back above the tabletop.

"What about today," I groaned, offering her a frustrating smile. "I think you were right about what you said earlier."

It took her a moment to catch my reference. The moment she did, her eyes went as wide as when I had first walked past her this morning. "Are you hard?" she asked, ducking beneath the table for a peek. Anticipating her reaction, I kept both hands clamped over my hard-on. "Aw, come on! Unfair! Move your hands!"

"No way," I laughed for no reason except it felt funny being hard with Mom trying to see. I stood with my back to her and ran to my room.

"Lee Albert Miller! What is wrong with you?!" she cried out for the second time that morning, except this time, she was clearly laughing. "Are you afraid of letting your Mommy see you hard?"

I sat in my room, turned away from the open door, and cradling my excited prick while laughing about my predicament. How could a simple prank go so damn wrong? I'm not sure why I did it, but I tugged on my hard-on a few times. I wasn't trying to make it harder, at least not consciously. I guess I pulled on it because it was there, in my hands, and it felt good to do it. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard Mom's voice from my doorway!

"Hey sugar, you know I'm not laughing at your manhood, right?"

I nodded my head. That thought had never occurred to me. "I can't believe I got hard in front of you."

"Not all the way hard," she corrected.

"Not that you saw," I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure she couldn't see what I held in my hands.

"Well, you let me know if you need any help with it," she snickered.

"Mom!" I couldn't believe she would even joke about something like that! Then it occurred to me, she had masterfully turned the tables on me. She had turned my little prank on its head. The joke wasn't on her, it was on me."Would you like me to shut the door so you can have some privacy?"

Her victorious smile said it all. She had won. While I might have initially shocked and surprised her with my flash of full nudity, she had gained the upper hand. There was at least one way for me to recapture the shock and awe of my little joke. "Actually, I think I'm good," I said, standing, turning, and facing her with my arms down to my sides. Her jaw dropped open as her gaze dropped to the hard-on jutting out from my body. "I think I'll stay naked. Good practice for tomorrow, right?"

"Damn sugar," she said in a soft, twisted tone. "You're huge."

"Does it bother you seeing me like this?" I asked in the most innocent and natural tone I could manage while my heart raced and I felt lightheaded. I couldn't believe I what I was doing. I couldn't believe that I stood naked and hard in front of my mom! It felt crazy and exhilarating. Part of me thrilled over the idea while the other half of me screamed that I had gone too far. Without meaning anything by it, my cock twitched with an involuntary spasm.

"No, baby," she said, sounding flustered. "It's nice. I mean, you look nice. I mean . . ." she gave up trying to find a way to say she enjoyed the view without sounding like a pervert. "I mean, damn." A twisted smile appeared on her face. "You are absolutely beautiful."

I saw the way Mom bit her bottom lip as she stared. I saw how she couldn't pull her eyes away from staring directly at my hard cock and it made me feel good. I felt like I had gained a new superpower, the ability to transfix and delight my mother. I could see the twinkle in her eyes as she stared, the way her pupils dilated as if her brain wanted her eyes to take in more of the vision standing in front of her. I felt the tide of my initial little prank turn back in my direction.

I gave my swollen cock a single caress as I gently slid my hand down from its tip to its base, ending with a quick caress of my hanging balls before dropping my hand back to my side. I smiled so hard with victory that I could feel it stretching my facial muscles. "Do you like seeing me do that?"

My Mom, Leigh Albertine Miller, violently shook her head as if coming out of a fugue-like state and wondering where she was and how she had gotten there. She looked again at my hard cock before slowly dragging her eyes up the rest of my body until her eyes met mine. In a small, weak voice, she told me, "You should probably get dressed."

"But why?" I asked, purposely making my cock throb for her. "Isn't this what you wanted to see? Isn't this the show you wanted?" I made my cock throb again. She hadn't missed it the first time or the second time.

"You don't want to do this," she cautioned.

"Sure I do."

"No, you don't," she said, slowly shaking her head.

"What am I doing? I'm only naked," I smirked. My cock throbbed on its own as my body realized it was okay to be naked and hard. "And I can stay like this for a very long time." After a very interesting spring break camping experience with Sophie and several of our friends, I had reasons to know just how long I could stay naked and hard.

A tiny smile returned to the corner of my mom's lips as she tilted her head and considered me, all of me. "Touch it again."

"You mean, like this?".

"Does that feel good?" After I nodded, she told me to do it again. "You like doing that?"

"Touching myself or being hard?"

"Both," she said, arms crossed just beneath her breasts as she casually leaned against the door jam. What she did next surprised me, she cupped both of her full breasts in her hands, capturing her swollen nipples between her fingers and pinching them. My cock throbbed madly and her smile grew from tiny smirk into something much bigger while her eyes narrowed into an expression I couldn't recall seeing on her face. It was the sort of look a cartoon villain wears as their evil, sinister plan takes shape in their mind. "I bet you can't wait until tomorrow, can you?"

"We don't have to wait," I suggested, turned on by the way she twisted on her enlarged nipples through the thin fabric of her sports top.

"Sure we do," she said, sliding a hand across her flat stomach and across the waistband of her skintight bottoms. For a brief moment, I thought she might slip her hand inside that waistband. Instead, she caressed near her pussy before her hand came to rest at her side. "And it only happens if you stay naked all day today. All day and all night, no matter what."

"I know."

"No matter what," she said, taking a step towards me. "Even after you have an orgasm and the thrill of being naked and excited fades away."

As my cock throbbed insistently, I swallowed hard. "An orgasm?"

"It looks like you need one," she said, stepping even closer. She sidestepped me. When I started to turn to follow her, she put a hand on my shoulder. "No, stay still." Her hand remained on my shoulder as she walked around me. "You are such a big boy," she cooed. "So big and strong." Finally, she made it back in front of me. Looking between us, she stared at my long, hard cock, watching it throb with its insistent need. She ran her hand across my chest and partway down my stomach before asking, "Would you like me to touch it?"

I gasped, unable to answer.

Her hand detoured to my right. Holding my wrist, she guided my hand to my cock. "Or maybe you'd enjoy showing me how you touch it?"

As if working on auto-pilot, my hand encircled my swollen cock, instantly massaging my excited prick with a slow up and down motion. "Yes."

"Such a naughty boy," she giggled, gently squeezing my balls. Leaning forward, she placed a single kiss on the massive slab of my big chest. "Take care of yourself, sugar. Have some fun and then let's see if you're still interested in being naked around Mommy." Turning, she moved towards my door.

"Aren't you going to watch?"

"Maybe later," she said, stealing one more glance at me before heading back in the direction of the kitchen. She called out one more instruction from the hallway, "You better not be hard next time I see you."

Taking a few minutes to please myself would be easy. My balls ached with a churning need for relief. I hadn't planned on getting excited in front of Mom. I didn't get naked in front of her as a sex thing, but that had changed, hadn't it? I remained facing my open door as I stroked my cock, half hoping she might come back to watch. I thought briefly about my spring break adventure when I had been naked and hard in the woods with my friends. Had that inspired my prank? Maybe. I had enjoyed being naked and hard in front of my friends. Did that include my mom?

As I stroked myself closer to an orgasm, I realized that it did. I thought about how she had grabbed at her nipples, and the sexy, flustered look in her eyes. I thought about her taking pictures of my nudity. Was she looking at them now? Would she really get naked with me tomorrow?

My orgasm arrived quickly and suddenly. Without a plan for having an orgasm, I didn't have a Kleenex to catch my flying spunk. I cupped my left hand in front of erupting cock, spraying and catching each forceful spurt in my palm and across fingers. My knees quivered as my hips gave a couple involuntary thrusts as if I was fucking the air in front of me. I sucked in a couple deep lungfuls of air, calming myself as the urgent need left me. Damn, that had felt good. It would have felt even better if Mom had watched or helped. That last thought prompted one more spasm as a final droplet appeared at the tip of my prick.

I visited the bathroom across the hall, washed off my goo coated hand, and took a leak. Feeling temporarily sated, I braced myself to walk naked into the kitchen again.

"Feel better?" Mom asked with smile.

"I do," I said, picking up my coffee cup from the table. I remained standing as I sipped the now cold beverage. I knew Mom was staring at my private parts and didn't care. No, that's not true. I did care. It felt good knowing she was seeing me naked even if I wasn't hard. "It would have been more fun if you had watched."

"Maybe later," she said, still staring at my nakedness. I swear I saw her squirm before she got up from the table. She carried her coffee cup to the sink, rinsing it out. "Did you want to eat some breakfast before we get started?"

"Started?" I asked, realizing my stomach did feel empty.

"Weeding the garden, fixing that planter box, and painting the lawn furniture. It's going to be a hot one today. We should get an early start."

I gaped at her before looking down at my nudity and grabbing my obviously exposed junk. "You're not serious, are you?"

"Who's going to see?" she asked, nodding out the back window. We had neighbors, just not any next door neighbors. I grew up in a small house on the outskirts of town, right before our small town turned into farmland. Others had moved out our way, but the houses were scattered and separated by fields, pasture, or cropland. "Now eat some breakfast and let's get going." She slapped my bare ass as she walked past me. It wasn't the first time she had patted my ass, only the first time she had patted my naked ass. I watched her ass as she moved down the hallway to her room. For a woman nearing forty, she looked damn good.

I polished off two bowls of Frosted Cheerios before Mom returned wearing a tight t-shirt and Daisy Duke jean shorts. She had the t-shirt rolled and tied up just beneath her breasts. It was clear she wasn't wearing a bra. Her jean shorts looked worn, well-used, and were cut so short that the front pockets hung lower than the shortened pant legs. Standing behind the counter, I discreetly caressed my cock. Was she purposely trying to get me excited?

"Let's go, sweet cheeks." After plopping a sun hat with a huge brim on top of her head, she slid open the door to our patio. Drinking down the last bit of sweet milk from my cereal, I rinsed off my dishes and scrambled after her.

Three years ago, Mom had converted to raised bed gardening. Together, we had built three containers for her vegetables. She had worn something similar back then, too. I didn't recall her jean shorts being so short and I remembered a bikini top being used as a bra beneath her t-shirt. I had provided the brawn while she had provided the woodworking skills, using power tools to cut the lumber and expertly fitting the pieces together. Mom was a woman of many talents.

It felt strange standing naked in the backyard. Glancing around the space, I could see our closest neighbor's house beyond an empty pasture. If they were outside, we could see each other, but not well enough to know I was naked. Mom was right, it was unlikely anyone would see me standing naked, except her. The sun felt good on my naked body. So did the slight breeze tickling my balls. As Mom bent to take a couple measurements on the raised planter, I watched her breasts sway.

"Could you grab that four-by-four?" She gestured to the wood I helped unload yesterday. I laid it on the edge of the planter while she measured and marked her cutline before picking up a long handsaw. At first, I stared at her ass while she sawed the wood. When my eyes moved to her swaying breasts, I felt my cock growing hard again and Mom made a joke about my "wood."

"I can't help it," I grumbled, feeling self-conscious about my cock getting hard so easily. I tried ignoring the sensation as I held tapped the cut pieces of wood into place. With the planter repaired, we moved on to weeding the raised beds. We worked opposite of each other and we spent as much time looking at each other as we did examining between the plants.

"How long do you think you're going to stay hard?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "It's not like I can control it."

Midway through weeding the plant beds, Mom went inside the house and returned with two sport bottles of ice water and bottle of sunscreen. "You should put on some lotion. You don't want to burn anything important." Standing in front of her while sipping water, I watched as she coated her arms, legs, and face before handing over the sunscreen.

"Would you do my back?" I asked, turning away from her.

"Sure," she said, squirting a line across my shoulders. As she worked down my back, my cock grew more excited. As she swabbed lotion across my asscheeks, my cock began throbbing, especially when I felt a finger slip across the puckered opening of my asshole. Had that been accident? Was she just being thorough or had she done that on purpose? I couldn't tell. "Maybe you should do the rest."

"Sure thing," I said, squirting a glob of the white cream into the palm of my hand and redoing my ass. Glancing over my shoulder, I caught her watching my hands as I caressed myself. Reaching between my legs, I made sure I coated a spot where the sun was unlikely to reach before caressing the inside of my thighs. Bending over, I poked my ass in her direction while coating my legs from the tops of my powerful thighs and all the way down to the tops of feet.

"How's your leg?" she asked.

"Good," I said, assuring her for the hundredth time since the initial injury. Still facing away from her, I coated my face, arms, and chest. I kept my back to her as I quickly applied lotion across my lower stomach, including my cock and balls. I couldn't hide my hardness, but I could be discrete about it. Turning to face her, I handed back the lotion while she admired my nudity, giving special attention to my hard-on.

"How wrong would it be if your mother said you have an amazing cock?"

"Really wrong," I admitted as my cock throbbed between us. "But it still feels good."

Mom admired my bottom half for another long moment before shaking her head and trying to look away. She glanced towards the two Adirondack chairs that needed painting. It was only a glance before her eyes were back on my body. "This isn't good," she said in a funny sounding, far away voice. "It's one thing for you to be naked. It's another for you to be so hard."

"I can't help it."

"I know,"

I wondered how much she really understood. Being naked and outdoors felt amazing but that was only a piece of why I felt excited. "This is more your fault than anything else," I said, tentatively caressing my hard-on. Would she ask me to stop? Maybe she would send me into the house to take care of myself or give me some privacy like she had done earlier.

"But I'm your Mom," she said, watching my hand stroking my hard cock.

"I know, that's what makes this feel so wrong," I said. "And fun."

"I'm twice your age."

"Not anymore. I'm catching up, remember?"

"I'm still your Mom."

"So?" I asked. "You're still sexy. It's still fun being naked and hard in front of you."

"You're doing more than being naked in front of me," she said and it was true. I was getting more and more excited.

"Does it bother you seeing me doing this?"

Biting her bottom lip, she shook her head. "The problem is, you're not the only one getting excited."

Tugging on myself with greater purpose. I stared at her chest, and once more noticing the twin points of her stiff nipples. "Do you want to help me?"

"Sure," she said, sporting a very big grin. "I think I can help fix your problem." Inverting her sport bottle, she sprayed a steady stream of ice-cold water at my cock and balls.

"Hey!" I yelped, jumping back and laughing. "Two can play at that game!" I aimed my bottle at her chest, dousing her and turning her tight t-shirt translucent in the process. "Damn, Mom, looking good!"

She looked down at her chest before looking back at me. "Oh, you like seeing your Mom's tits?"

"Hell yeah," I said, refusing to look away. "Admit it, you're hot!"

"I think you made my nipples hard," she said, capturing one of the thick buds between finger and thumb while pinching and pulling on it. She did the same thing on the other one. "Yep, you did. They're both hard. Does that make you happy?"

"More than you know," I squeaked, taken aback by her explicit display of sexuality.

"I'm wet in lots of ways," she purred, gripping the front of her jean shorts while watching my reaction. "I bet that makes you happy, too, doesn't it?"

"So much," I croaked, stunned by her sexy tone and the explicit ways she touched herself.

She eyed my reaction, watching how I watched her and the reaction she had on me. I could feel her gaze on me as hot as the sun shining on me, as real as the water still dripping off me. "Is Mommy making you hard?"

Inhaling sharply, I nodded. Her words made my arousal feel wrong and so good.

"Do you like having your Mommy watching you like this?"

Gasping, I managed another insistent nod.

"Do you want to get off for Mommy? Do you want Mommy to see you cum?" My heart pounded in my chest. I felt lightheaded and breathless. "Say it, Lee. Tell Mommy what you want."

"I want to cum for you," I gasped, finding it hard to breathe. "I want to get off for Mommy."

Mom took a step closer to me, closing the gap between us until my hard cock nearly touched her. Although I towered over her, I felt small, weak, and helpless. "What else would you like?" she asked, caressing my big chest. She captured one of my nipples between a finger and thumb, pinching, squeezing, and twisting the flatten nub. The sharp pain felt amazing.

"Anything," I managed to say. "Everything."

"Anything?" she asked, repeating the painful pinch, squeeze, and twist on my other flat tit. "Everything?" I feverishly nodded. She glanced between us, watching my hand tugging and jerking on my hard, swollen cock.

I felt close to an orgasm but held back. Somewhere deep inside my excited state, I knew I couldn't orgasm, not yet. Not until she told me I could. I felt sweat running down my back.

"Turn around," she said, pushing on my shoulder and spinning me to left. She squirted more ice water onto my back, making me shiver before dropping the empty sport bottle into the grass. She pressed her body against me from behind. I felt her breasts pressing against me as she wrapped her arms around me. Too short to see over my shoulders, she kissed my back. I felt the side of her face resting against me. "I can hear your heart."

"So excited," I groaned, no longer touching myself. I wanted to, but I didn't want to do anything I shouldn't, either. I didn't want to break the spell between us. I didn't want to risk ruining the moment.

"I know, sugar," she said, exploring everywhere on my body except the spot that needed it the most. She caressed my chest and ran her hands across the six-pack of my stomach before running her small hands alongside my hips. She caressed the front of my thighs before her hands slipped to the back of my thighs. She ran her hands upwards until she cupped my ass, squeezing both cheeks. "You've got a great ass."

"So do you," I said, wishing I could see her.

With her face pressed against my back, she held herself against me. She teased me, threatening to touch my cock or balls without ever doing it. The hand on my stomach traced the line of my pubic hair. The hand on my thigh rose nearly to my balls before moving back down again. "Tell me what anything means to you," she requested. "What does everything include? How far should we go?"

My head felt foggy, clouded with desire and a need for an orgasm. I fought to find words that made sense. "I want to cum," I said between clenched teeth, knowing that wouldn't be enough for her. "I want to get off in front of you. I want you to see me orgasm." As hard as that was to say, it felt good. My cock throbbed eagerly at the idea.

"In front of your Mom?" she asked. Losing my words for a moment, I nodded my head. She slipped beneath my arm, pressing against my side so she could see my front. She kept an arm wrapped around my waist. I felt her breasts against my rib cage and it drove me crazy. My swollen cock pounded out its need. My knees felt weak. She tweaked a nipple again before nearly touching my cock and balls again. "What else?"

"I want you to touch me," I groaned. "I want you to make me cum. I want to feel your hands on me, your mouth, your . . ." I petered out, too ashamed to finished, but she insisted. Sucking in a deep breath, I forced out the most damning words I could imagine saying to my Mom. "I want to fuck you."

"Me?" she asked, sounding shocked. "You want to fuck your mother?"

"Yes," I confessed, embarrassed and ashamed, but unwilling to lie to her.

"Say it again. Tell me you want to fuck your Mom." I felt her caressing my ass, squeezing my butt cheeks.

With my cock throbbing, I recited the damning words, "I want to fuck my Mom."

Mom slapped my bare ass and laughed. "God, you sound like such a pervert! Is that what you are? Are you a pervert? Is that the man I raised?"

"Maybe," I said, unsure how to answer the question. I felt myself deeply blushing. My heart beat so hard it made my head hurt (the head on top of my shoulders). My stomach felt twisted while my balls ached. I fought against the urge to finish myself off. "Please, Mom. It hurts."

"Then do it," she told me in a flat, matter-of-fact way of speaking. "If it means so much to you, get yourself off while I watch."

"For real?" I asked, suspicious of her tone. What did it mean? Did it mean anything? I couldn't think straight. All my body understood was the need for an orgasm. I stopped second guessing her words and grabbed my cock again. "This is okay? You're really going to watch me?"

"Yes, sugar. Mommy's going to watch you cum."

"God, this feels so wrong." I felt possessed by my urgent, primal needs for an orgasm. I could feel it speeding towards me as my balls drew tighter.

"Do it, sugar. Come for Mommy," she purred. "Let Mommy see you get off. Show Mommy how far you can shoot it. Show Mommy what you can do."

Her words made me feel humiliated. Everything I was doing felt so very wrong, but I couldn't stop it. I shouldn't be doing this in front of my Mom. I shouldn't be naked. I shouldn't be hard and I certainly shouldn't jerk-off in front of her. Except, all those things were happening and I felt more turned on than ever before in my life.

I grunted, groaned, and finally released the massive load that had built up in my balls from her incessant teasing and cumming felt good. No, great. Cumming felt out-fucking-standing as I let my orgasm fly through the air of our backyard. I hugged her tightly against me, no longer weak-kneed or hesitant. I hugged my mom with one hand while pumping out my creamy cum and feel better for releasing it.

"Feel better?" she asked, still caressing my body without touching the important parts on the front.

"I do," I admitted, turning and planting a kiss on top of her head. "Much better. Did you have fun watching?"

"You're very sexy," she agreed. As she planted a kiss on my chest, I felt her do a little squirming dance against me. With the height difference between us, her kiss landed directly on my nipple, making it feel more intimate.

"Did that make you excited? Are you wet?"

"I was already wet," she said with a lighthearted chuckle, tugging at her quickly drying t-shirt. The sun had already removed much of its translucency but I could still see the shape of her full breasts and the stiffness of her hard nipples.

"Not the kind of wet I meant," I said, and before I realized what I was doing, I cupped her breast, caressing the soft mound. Easily finding her stiff nipple, I gently pinched and rolled it.

She didn't stop me, but she did ask, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Helping," I said, squeezing her full tit before focusing more on her hard nipple. Mom's breasts felt softer than Sophie's or any of the younger women I had touched. I liked it, especially the full, taut feeling of her erect nipple. Recalling how she had treated herself when I was still in my bedroom, I clamped down firmer and twisted. Looking up at me, she sharply inhaled without stopping me. "You like it hard like that, don't you?"

"Sometimes," she admitted, back to caressing around my cock and balls, her caresses veering close without touching them. Her other hand kept squeezing my ass.

Slipping my fingers beneath the t-shirt tied just below her breasts, I tugged it upward, exposing the full curve of her breast to the sun, air, and my touch. "I think you should take this off," I said, gripping her nipple and pulling it upward.

"Tomorrow," she insisted, tugging her shirt down, brushing my hand away, and covering her tit. She pulled away and adjusted her top. Gazing back at my bottom half, a tiny smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. "Still want me to touch you?"

My spent cock hung heavy, long, and useless for a while. Given a bit of time, I knew I could get hard again, but it would take fifteen or twenty minutes. Despite the uselessness of my cock, I did want her to touch me there. I wanted to know she would. If she would do it now, maybe she would do it later, too. I nodded.

Pressing close to me, Mom's tiny hand groped my cock and balls. I pulled her closer, pressing her body against mine. I stared down at her, seeing the young woman she had once been along with the familiar face with tiny lines etched into the corner of her eyes that would never go away. I realized I held a true woman against my body rather than some giggling college coed.

"You are so beautiful," I murmured.

"I'm old," she replied, as if able to read the thoughts that had just occurred to me.

"You're still beautiful," I insisted, unwilling to argue the age gap between us. I bent and kissed her on the lips. It wasn't a passionate kiss. We didn't try to furiously tongue each other. The kiss didn't linger like a lover's kiss. But I did kiss her, directly on the lips, while she held my cock in her hand and I thrilled at the sensation of her tits pressing against me. It felt intimate without being romantic. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, stepping away from me. "Ready to paint some lawn furniture?"

"Sure," I said, dragging the two wooden chairs into the grass while she grabbed paint and brushes.

We took our time repainting the furniture, carefully to avoid drips between the many slats of the Adirondack chairs. Working naked felt interesting. Whenever I caught Mom looking at me, she would smile and look away until I would catch her watching me again.

Feeling her near-constant gaze on me felt good. "If you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to get hard again," I said with a smile, hoping that was something she would want to see.

She smiled back, staring opening at me. "How wrong does it feel being naked in front of me?"

"Really wrong," I admitted. "But wrong in good ways." I tugged on my growing cock and that felt good, too. "How does it feel seeing me naked?"

"About the same, wrong and good at the same time," she said, turning her attention back to her paintbrush. "You truly have a beautiful body."

"Does it feel different because I'm your son?"

Looking at me, she bit her bottom lip and nodded. It was an expression I had seldom seen from her before that day and it occurred to me, that must be something she did when worried or excited.

"Does it make it better because of that?" I asked.

"Why don't you finish up and I'll mix up some sweet tea and make lunch," she said, ignoring my question as she balanced her brush on the edge of the paint can before heading indoors.

I touched up a couple of remaining spots before capping the paint and washing out the brushes. Doing mundane tasks naked felt good. I washed off the few splatters on my arms and legs. Finished, I went inside to find her slicing fruit and veggies for a lunch. I moved behind her, pressing my hard cock against the middle of her back while wrapping my arms around her tiny body. I grabbed at both of her breasts.

"If I cut myself, it's your fault," she said, setting down the knife. Reaching behind her back, she grabbed my hard cock. "What caused this?"

"Just being naked outside and thinking about you."

Brushing my hands away from her breasts, she went back to slicing a cucumber into spears. "Glad you're enjoying yourself."

"I am," I said, sitting on the counter next to her. She glanced at my hard-on jutting upwards from between my legs.

"Showing off?"

"Is that okay?"

"Sure," she said, taking a good, long look before going back to her slicing.

"So, when was the last time you got laid?"

"1999," she said, citing the year I was born before correcting herself. "Actually, it was April 1998, the night of my senior prom." Quickly doing the math, I guessed she meant the night I was conceived.

"Bullshit," I laughed, sure that Mom hadn't stayed celibate since getting knocked up with me during the last months of her senior year.

"Oh, I thought you were asking when was the last time I fucked a nineteen year old," she laughed.

"We could change that answer."

"Don't tempt me," she sighed, eyeing my nakedness. She finished slicing the cucumber before moving on to do the same to a couple carrots. She kept her head down and stayed focused on her slicing. "Do you really want to fuck your Mom or do you just want to fuck in general?"

Hearing her saying "fuck" felt sexy and funny at the same time. I had heard her swear, not often, but she wasn't above using adult language around me. Still, it felt different hearing her talking about fucking in its literal sense. Even odder knowing she was talking about us. I considered her question for a long moment.

"I'm serious," she said, facing me while munching on a carrot stick. "You could fuck damn near any woman you want. If you want to be with a MILF, there's a hot mom who moved in down the street. I could introduce the two of you."

"I'm not sure it would feel the same," I said, still working out how I felt. "This is different." Caressing my hard cock, I caught her eyes flickering to watch me. "I know this is wrong. I know you're not supposed to see me like this. I'm not supposed to be naked or hard in front of you, but that's what makes it feel so good."

"Because I'm your Mom?"

I nodded, that was part of it, but not quite all of it. "Because you're Mom and because you're okay with me doing this." I clutched at my balls, amping up my thrill. "This feels wrong, kinky, and I want more of it."

"How much more?"

"All of it," I confessed. "I want to know you. I want you to know me, all of me. I would do anything for you, so why should I want to do everything with you?"

I could see the battle waging in her mind as she bit her bottom lip again. When she took in a deep breath and held it for a long moment, I stared at her full chest and blatantly admired her tits. She slowly sighed, closing her eyes before opening them again and looking directly into mine. "You don't even know how I like it," she said. "You have no idea what I'm into. Maybe we don't like sex in the same ways."

"But you do like sex, right?"

"More than you know," she assured me. "But you don't know what I like to do in bed. You don't know if I like it hard and fast or if I prefer soft and slow."

"I know you like it rough on your nipples," I pointed out since I had observed what she had done to herself.

"What if I said I'm freak in bed?" she asked, picking up another carrot stick. "What if I told you I liked it up the ass or that I loved eating ass? Maybe I like it best when a man turns me over his knee and spanks my ass until I can't walk?"

I blinked hard, excited as much by her graphic words as I was by the ideas she mentioned. I couldn't believe my Mom was talking like that and it turned me on even more.

"Or, maybe I like to be the one in control," she suggested, polishing off her carrot stick. "Maybe I like to abuse my man. I might own a strap-on for all you know. Maybe I like jerking a guy off and making him eat his own cum, would you do that for me? Would you let me use and abuse you?"

"Yes," I gasped, excited by the prospect.

Pushing my knees apart, she stepped between them, brushing my hands away from swollen cock and replacing them with her hands. She stroked my throbbing shaft while fondling my balls. "You have no idea how kinky I might be. Maybe I want to see you crawl around on your hands and knees with a cucumber sticking out of your ass. Would you do that for me, too?"

I had never done anything like that. I had never played any sort of BDSM or D/s games, but for her, I would play my role perfectly. Without hesitation, I eagerly nodded, gasping at the potential thrill of it all.

Tilting her head and smiling at me, she went in the opposite direction. "Or maybe I prefer to be romanced. Maybe I don't really like seeing you naked and hard like this and I'm only doing it because I can tell how much it means to you. Maybe, just maybe, I like to be slowly seduced and showered with tender kisses from head to toe before my lover makes long, slow, tender love to me."

"I could do that, too," I promised.

"But that's just it," she said, looking down and watching my cock throb with its renewed need. "You don't really know what I like, do you? Maybe I want to be used, like in those 50 Shades of Gray books. Maybe I want to be spanked and told what to do. Could you do that, too? Could you be like that to your mother?"

"I could try."

"How could you ever respect me again after spanking my ass? Could you really face me with my grandkids in tow after knowing that I like it up the butt?"

Since I didn't have any kids, I ignored that thought and focused on the only part that I could appreciate. "Do you really like it up the butt?"

"That's just it, you don't know. That's part of what makes this so dangerous." She caressed my hard cock again while gently fondling my shaved balls. "Sugar, I love you, too. I love seeing you like this. This feels like a gift no mother show ever have or do without, but it's wrong." She moved her hands to my thighs, squeezing my thighs as if that's what it took to keep her hands away from the parts she had just caressed. "The thing is, I would do anything for you, too, but that doesn't mean we should."

"I want this," I said, trying to pull her hands back to my private parts. "This and everything else you said." I pulled her closer, wrapping my long legs around her as I pushed up her shirt and grabbed at her bare breasts. I zeroed in on her nipples, tugging and pulling on them in the way I guessed she liked best as squeezed my cock with one hand while the other gently squeezed my balls. When she looked up at me, I leaned over and kissed her lips hard. Our tongues never left our mouths, but it was a much deeper kiss than before.

She waited it out. When I straightened back up, she smiled as she reached behind herself and uncrossed my legs. Stepping backward, she pulled her top down, not bother to redo the way she had rolled it up and knotted it just beneath her tits. She kept her hands on my knees, standing an arm's length away before pushing off. Something about her expression changed before she moved to the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of low-calorie Ranch-style. As she moved, I realized she had gone into full Mom-mode as if nothing had happened between us.

"You can stay naked all day if you'd like," she said in her no-nonsense Mom tone. "To be honest, I like seeing you naked, but don't do it for me, do it because you want to do it. And I won't go back on my word, either. If you stay naked all day, I'll go naked tomorrow." She pulled down two plates from the cupboard next to me and carefully arranged the veggies so the Ranch dressing wouldn't touch the cut fruit. Picking up both plates, she moved around the counter before stopping near the table. "Well shit, I guess we can't eat outside with those chairs freshly painted, can we?" She let out a self-conscious little "silly Billy" sort of laugh and placed the plates of the table where things had begun that morning.

After scooting off the countertop, I automatically wiped down where I had sat. It was something I would have done if I had sat on it fully clothed, too. It was a funny little Mom rule from whenever I had gotten tall enough to use the counter as a perch. My hard cock led the way as I moved to sit with Mom though I didn't feel quite as needy as moments ago. Feeling confused can dull the thrill and I was still trying to work out everything.

Being naked in front of her was okay. Being hard in front of her was okay, too. But was that where it ended? I wanted more, but what could I do about it? Glumly, I gnawed on a carrot stick while Mom gave me a patient smile and did the same.

"You know I still want to do more, right?"

"I know, sugar."

"A lot more," I said, feeling my cock still hard beneath the tabletop. Still holding on to that patient, Mom-smile, she nodded. "And I don't care what more is. I'm willing to do any of those things you listed off."

"It wasn't meant as a shopping list."

"I know. I'm just thinking you can't run through a list like that unless you've thought about really doing some of that stuff."

"I read a lot," she said with a more genuine smile. "And not everything I read is a romance novel."

I knew she meant porn. "Do you read a lot of 'not romances?'" Mom faintly blushed as she nodded. "What about videos? Do you ever watch those, too?"

"Sometimes," she admitted in a soft, far-away voice.

"Like how often?" I pushed. "I mean, either one, not just vids."

Eyes wide, she called me out on what I was doing. "Are you asking your Mom how often she masturbates?"

I shrugged before I nodded. "Why not? You've already seen me do it. It's sexy to know you do it, too."

"Everyone does it," she said while munching on a celery stick.

"But how often do you do it?" I pressed, not letting her avoid the question.

"Often enough," she smirked, finishing off her celery stick. "What about you? How often do you do it?"

"A couple of times a day. My record is five orgasms in one day." Beneath the table, I stroked my hard cock. "Tell me more about the sort of books you like to read."

"They're stories on the internet," she shrugged.

"What kind of stories?"

A blush turned her cheeks a faint pink. "Just stories," she dismissed, picking up her empty plate and rinsing it off in the sink. "Just because you have a fantasy doesn't mean you want to do it in real life."

"Why not?" I asked, following behind her with my plate. I reached around and over her, something I had done hundreds of times in the past. Doing it while naked put an intimate spin on it. I pressed my hard-on against her back.

Turning, she put a hand on my chest, pushing me a step back. "And that's the difference between being thirty-seven and nineteen."

"You're not thirty-seven yet," I reminded her, knowing her birthday wasn't for another month.

"And you just want me to play with this some more," she said, glancing between us without touching.

"You're right," I said. When I pulled her hand to my stiff cock, her fingers automatically wrapped around it.

"Lee, I'm serious, we shouldn't do this," she said even as her other hand began playing with my balls again.

"We can do anything we want," I insisted, trying to kiss her again. She turned her head and my kiss landed on her cheek instead of her lips. That wasn't good enough for me. Putting my hands beneath her arms, I picked her up and balanced her on the counter next to the sink. That put her on eye level with me.

"What are you doing?" she giggled until she noticed my expression. "Lee? What is it, sugar?"

"It's this," I said, grabbing my big cock and waving it at her. "And this," I said, stepping back and extending my arms wide so she could see my full nudity as I spun slowly around in a tight circle. "We can do anything we want, instead you keep saying 'We can't' and 'We shouldn't.' Fuck all that, Mom. I want to do it. I want to do it all."

"I know you think that, baby," Mom said, looking as tortured as I felt. "But I'm going to be very honest. Seeing you like this? Hearing you tell me over and over again how you'll do anything? It puts bad thoughts in my head because I know you really mean it, don't you?"

I nodded. I did mean it, every word of it.

"And I don't trust me," she confessed, looking disappointed in herself. "This is scary. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I let us do the wrong thing? We can never go back."

"I want to do it, though," I pouted.

Mom hopped off the counter, washed the couple dishes we had used, the cutting board, and the knife. She wiped off the counter, too, all while I stood behind her caressing my hard cock and fantasizing about her. I kept wishing I could find the right words to let her know it was okay. When she was done, she turned around, leaned against the counter and eyed my nakedness once more. "Anything, right?" I nodded eagerly.

Mom stepped past me, opened the freezer, and scooped out a handful of ice that she pressed against my balls. She watched my eyes go wide as I struggled to remain still and not back away.

"You did say anything," she grinned.

The initial shock of the cold made me jump. A moment later, after I relaxed, it felt sort of good. A couple minutes more, it didn't feel so good.

"Problem?" she asked.

"It's cold," I said, determined to remain still. Icy cold water ran down the insides of the thighs making it even harder to stand still.

"I bet." She switched hands, clutching my hot cock with her wet, cold hand while keeping the ice against my balls. She switched hands again as I started to dance, determined to endure her icy torture. "Interesting," she said, finally releasing me and tossing what remained of the ice into the sink. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, she dried her wet hands before handing them to me. "Someone needs to wipe that up." She nodded at the puddle on the floor. I started to squat, but she corrected me, "On all fours."

As I knelt on the kitchen floor, she moved behind me, telling me to stay like that. Pushing open my asscheeks, she peered at my behind.

"Why is your ass shaved?"

"Sophie," I said, though I hadn't seen my girlfriend in a couple weeks.

Mom reached between my legs from behind and fondled my tight balls. She ran a thumb across my puckered asshole before reaching farther between my legs. She cradled my cock for a moment, feeling it twitching and throbbing against her hand. She pulled on my cock a couple of times. I don't know why, but her doing it from behind made it feel so sexy. Letting go, she moved away, giving me space to stand and throw away the wet paper towels.

Standing close to me, she ran her fingers through closely cropped hair I had maintained above and around my cock. She said a single word, "Shave."

"Yes ma'am," I agreed, heading directly to the bathroom. I thought she would follow me but when I reached the bathroom, I turned and saw she wasn't there. "Mom? Did you want to watch me do it?"

"Not really," she called back from the living room.

Disappointed, I went about the business of shaving off the rest of my pubic hair. I did it facing the sink, working carefully. It's actually easier to shave around my cock than shaving my balls. It didn't take long. After rinsing off, I found her sitting in the living room reading a page full of text on her tablet. "Reading anything good?"

Mom looked up at me and caressed around my cock and balls, feeling the smoothly shaved flesh. "Better," she smiled. She pulled me in front of her. "Sit," she said, nodding at the coffee table in front of her. "Lean back," she instructed, making me prop myself up with my arms behind me. She nudged my knees far apart, opening me to her. "That's nice," she said with a smile as she eyed me.

My cock bounced and throbbed for her and that seemed to make her smile even bigger before she went back to her reading. I saw her squirm a bit as she read. Every now and then, she would look up and stare at me before going back to her reading. "What are you reading?"

"Porn," she said, eyeing me again. I noticed she had tied her t-shirt up again. Going back to her reading, she caressed her chest, tugging on nipples through the thin, cotton fabric as I sat frustrated. "I'm reading about this twenty-year-old girl dominating her boss." Her hand strayed between her legs and she played with the seam of her extra short shorts.

"Is it good?"

Mom giggled. "It's so over the top. On the first page, she spanked him with a spatula before shoving it up his butt." She undid the button of her jean shorts, tugging them open before slipping a hand inside. I squirmed as I watched her hand moving inside her shorts.

"What's happening now?"

"She just made him jerk off into a cup of yogurt and eat it."

"Is that something you want me to do?"

"I don't know," she said, still caressing her pussy.

"I could feed it to you if you want," I suggested. "With my dick."

"Oh!" she said, looking surprised. She tensed and then smiled. "You just made Mommy have an orgasm!" Pulling her hand away from inside her shorts, she sucked on a wet finger and smiled again.

"Do we have any yogurt?"

"Maybe later," she said, leaving her shorts undone as she went back to her reading. I watched as her hand worked its way back inside her shorts.

"What's happening now?"

"She just invited over a group of guys to fuck her in front of him," she said, her voice breathy and a bit ragged. "And her boss has to lick her clean after each one." She bit her bottom lip as her hand began moving faster. Arching her back, she clutched herself and came again as my cock throbbed madly. I felt a droplet of pre-cum leaking from its tip. I had never seen my Mom look so beautiful.

"Fuck, that's hot," I groaned in so much need that I had to grab the edge of the coffee table to prevent myself from jerking off.

"Poor baby," Mom said after she had calmed down. "You're leaking!" She ran her finger through the clear droplet of pre-cum resting on my belly. I noticed her finger was wet before she touched me, wet from being against her pussy and I felt my cock push out another droplet of the clear, needy pre-cum. "More?" she giggled, looking very pleased. She scooped up the drop before it landing on my stomach and popped her finger in her mouth. That started another round of needful throbbing and more pre-cum. "Sugar! How much cum do you think your Mom needs?"

"I don't know?" I grinned. "A lot?"

"Careful or I'll treat you like that girl did her boss in that story, would you like that?"

"You can if you want to."

"Which part?"

"Any of it," I said, meaning it. "Should I get a spatula for you?"

Mom faintly blushed as she tilted her head and eyed me with a twinkle in her eyes. "See? This is where all those 'anythings' start to get me in trouble." She played with a stiff nipple as she considered me. "Because I believe you. I really believe you'd do anything for me."

"I would," I said as my cock throbbed without pumping out another droplet of pre-cum. I wished it had. "And I'll let you do anything you want to me, too."

"Tease," she said, looking as frustrated as I felt. She couldn't stop staring at my cock. She slipped out of her easy chair and knelt between my outstretched knees. She caressed my thighs and stomach. She cupped my balls again, squeezing them as she watched my cock. "What's going to happen tomorrow?"

"I don't know." I was much more curious about what might still happen today.

Mom traced a finger up the length of my cock making it jump like crazy. "Maybe tomorrow, I let you do anything to me."

"I would," I promised, already imagining fucking her or making her suck me over and over. "We can take turns. Today is your day. Tomorrow is my day."

Wetting her finger, she traced a tight little circle around that hypersensitive bundle of nerves that marked my circumcision scar. Gasping, I nearly came. Mom giggled and stopped. "Not yet." When she tugged on my balls, it eased my need a bit. Kneeling in front of me, she shoved a hand inside her shorts once more while caressing the rest of my body.

She ran her hand across my flat nipples, pinching them aggressively before rubbing away the pain. She caressed my six pack and my powerful thighs. She ran her thumb beneath my balls, pressing it against my butthole for a moment. That's when I realized her gaze never left my face. She was masturbating while watching my reaction to her touch.

I stopped watching her hand moving across my body. I stopped staring lecherously at her stiff nipples and wondering how they might feel in my mouth. My gaze settled on her eyes. "Cum for me, Mommy."

Mom's gaze never faltered from staring into my eyes even as she blushed deeply. "You are such a bad boy," she gasped.

"I'm leaking again," I said, thumbing another drop of pre-cum off the tip of my prick without looking. I fed my coated thumb to her. "You're doing that to me."

"You have no idea what else I want to do to you," she gasped, still blushing.

"Do it," I begged. "Ruin me. I'm yours." The flow from my cock felt constant. I picked up more and fed it to her. "For the rest of the day, I'm completely yours, but tomorrow, you're mine."

Shivering, Mom came again. As soon as her orgasm had passed, she shoved two fingers inside my mouth letting me taste her pussy. I greedily sucked on her fingers wanting more. Mom laughed at me. "Deal," she said, finally breaking our locked gaze so she could lap up the puddle of pre-cum that had pooled in my navel. She worked around my aching, throbbing cock, barely touching it with her neck and cheeks. Kneeling on her heels, she traced a finger along its length again and laughed at how it jumped. "Maybe I should get some ice?"

I moaned as I leaked even more pre-cum. Where the hell was it all coming from? I didn't realize it was possible to leak this much of the clear fluid. "Or your spatula," I suggested, borrowing from what she had been reading.

A funny expression clouded Mom's face as she carefully avoided my cock while scooping up more of my pre-cum. "I did tell you what she did with that spatula, didn't I?" I nodded, I had heard her loud and clear. "Lay down," she instructed, waiting until I was on my back before she urged me to pull my knees up to my chest. Leaning over me, she smiled down at me. "I've never done this before but it's always intrigued me." Keeping my legs curled up, she pressed her tongue against my asshole and started eating on my ass!

"Oh God!" I squealed, shocked and overwhelmed by how good it felt. Again, I felt as if I was cumming without really cumming because of all the pre-cum pouring from purple cockhead. It rolled down my chest and puddled around my neck, turning me on even more. I felt her tongue snake inside my butt. I couldn't stand it. I started begging. "Make me cum, Mommy," I pleaded. "Please, Mommy. Please let me cum."

Mom stopped what she was doing and looked at me between my upturned legs. She relaxed her grip, allowing my feet to move back to the floor. She had a wild, crazed look in her eyes as she stared at my cock. Gripping it with her hand, she pulled it towards her, wrapped her lips around it, and began pumping on me. I couldn't last. I couldn't even think about lasting longer. I came immediately, blasting wave after wave of my hot, creamy cum deep inside my Mom's mouth.

Seeing my Mom's mouth wrapped around my cock broke something inside of me. As each wave of my orgasm splashed my seed inside of her, I felt my heart bursting, pouring out love and affection for her. I have always loved my Mom, but I couldn't imagine loving her more than I did at that very moment.

"Mommy," I panted. "Mom. Mommy. Mommy!"

Gasping, Mom pulled away, looking shocked, startled, and surprised by what she had just done. "Oh sugar," she said, repeating her pet name for me. "Oh sugar, I shouldn't have done that."

"No, Mommy, I loved it. I love you!"

"And I love you, Lee," she said, pulling my cock back to her mouth. She licked and kissed it. "I love you so much."

I sat up, cradled her tiny face and showered her with kisses. I didn't care where her mouth had been, I didn't care one bit. I kissed her over and over again, just pecks, but kisses just the same and she kissed me back, showering my face with as many kisses as I gave her until it became silly and we both started laughing and giggling.

"Now what?" I asked, finally catching my breath again.

Her eyes narrowed as that super villain-like smile re-appeared on her face. "Everything," she said, still cradling my spent prick in her hands. "I'm just getting started and you have no idea what you've set yourself up for."

"Just remember, tomorrow is my turn."

"Is that supposed to scare me?"

"Just know I plan on giving as good as I get," I said, kissing her face again.

"So I should make this worth my while?"

Recalling our earlier conversation, I smiled back at her. "You have no idea how sick and twisted I might be."

"Oh really?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Name something."

Put on the spot, my mind went blank. "Guess it depends on what else you do to me, first."

"Sugar, I just ate my son's ass and swallowed a load of his cum. Wanna bet that I get nastier than you?"

Mom didn't raise me to be a fool, but without knowing any better, I made the mistake of smirking. "Bring it."

Mom's smile never wavered. "Do you think we need a safe word?"

I forced my smirk to remain in place. Was she kidding? I couldn't read her. She didn't look or sound as if she kidding. Then again, I've never seen her like this. She had a wild look in her eyes and a smile that could be best described as maniacal. I shook my head.

"Go get my spatula," she said. When I returned to the living room, she sat reading her tablet again. She looked serene and at peace with the world despite my nudity and the kitchen tool I held. "Sit down," she told me, nodding at the coffee table. I sat as I had before, leaning back with my legs wide for her to see between them. My spent cock lolled between my legs, resting against my spent ball sac. "How long before you get hard again?"

"I don't know," I said, unsure what to do with the spatula, so I laid it across my lap. "Not long."

"Good," she said, going back to her reading. Every now and then she would look up from her tablet, gaze at my nakedness, and then go back to it. Mostly, she ignored me. She apparently found something good to read because she started playing with her nipples again. Seeing her tracing a lazy circle around the taut point of her nipple made my cock begin to stir. As if I wasn't there, her hand slipped across her stomach and over the seam in her shorts. A minute or two later, her hand was back inside her shorts as she masturbated.

"Reading something hot?"

"Hot enough," she said, checking again on my condition. She smiled when she saw I was hard again. As she went back to reading, I caressed my shaft a couple times, encouraging myself to grow harder. "Did I say you could do that?"

"No," I sheepishly said, putting my hand behind myself again and that's how I sat as I watched her pleasure herself again. All-in-all, it felt surreal and sexy as hell.

"I'm reading incest stories," she told me with her hand still inside her short shorts. "Mostly mothers with their sons, but there are some other ones that are pretty hot, too." My mom was a fast, voracious reader. She kept tapping her screen in regular intervals, digitally turning the page as she kept reading. After giving herself another orgasm, she looked up and smiled. "Whew! I think I need a break. Are you hungry?"

At the mention of food, my stomach grumbled. I nodded.

"Good," she said, redoing her shorts before she stood. Standing, she waited for me to stand up, too. When I did, she grabbed me by the prick and led me into the kitchen. After pulling out leftovers, she began reheating our dinner in the microwave. While each of bowl warmed, she fondled my cock and balls, openly exploring them and keeping me excited. Oddly, she didn't say anything as she did it.

After the last ding, she pulled out a couple plates. She held one plate against my dick, rubbing the plate across my cock and balls before carrying it to the table and setting it in my spot. As we sat, she waited for me to serve myself, smiling as I loaded my plate. I tried not to think about it as I ate my dinner.

"I completely forgot that I made iced tea, would you like some?"

"Yes ma'am," I said, quickly getting up and fetching the pitcher from the refrigerator and two glasses with ice.

"Let me see your glass," she said, taking the still empty piece of glassware from me. She carefully rolled the entire rim against my swollen cock before handing it back to me. I filled our glasses. "Oh wait," she said, just before I took a sip of mine. "Stand up again, please." I did as she asked. That's when she held my glass of tea up to my balls, dunking my balls inside the chilled beverage. "There! Drink up!"

Deep inside, I knew none of it mattered. So what if my dick had touched my plate before I piled it high with food? Who cares if my prick had touched the entire rim of my glass before it ever touched my lips. And really, did dunking my balls inside my tea make that big of a difference? In the back of my mind, I knew none of it mattered. But in the forefront of my brain, I knew my lips were once removed from touching my cock. I knew I was tasting my ball sac with every sip. I felt humiliated and excited at the same time.

During dinner, Mom put a barefoot between my legs and caressed my cock with the sole of her foot and her toes. The constant caresses kept me excited. Her casual attitude about it messed with my head. While she smiled at me a lot during dinner, there wasn't much conversation. I don't know why. Usually, we'll talk about movies, TV shows, or things we recently saw in the news or on the Internet. This particular evening, we were mostly quiet.

After dinner, I volunteered to wash the dishes. As I stood in front of a sink filled with soapy water, Mom leaned against the counter next to me. She spent most of her time staring at my hard-on. Sometimes, she would caress my cock or balls. Again, we didn't say much. It felt odd. I tried to strike up a conversation. "Do you read a lot of incest stories?"

"Before today, I don't think I've ever read one."

"Looks like you enjoyed them."

"I did," she admitted, caressing me again. "So many sons getting caught doing naughty things by their Mommy and Mommy taking advantage of them."

"I've never read one."

"They're all about the same," she shrugged. "Some are hotter than others."

"Which ones?"

"You'll have to read them yourself. Maybe they'll give you some ideas." She glanced over her shoulder as I pulled the drain from the sink. Turning me around, she patted an empty space of counter, inviting me to jump up and have a seat. Pushing my legs apart, she moved closer to me, pressing my hard cock between her breasts. She experimented with rubbing my excited cockhead across the twin points of her fat nipples.

I leaned back, supporting myself with my hands behind my back. It still felt odd being naked and excited in front of her. My mind raced with ideas as I wondered what else she might do to me. She caressed more than just my cock and balls. Her tiny hands explored my legs, stomach, and chest, too. Placing my hand on top of my cock, she stepped back and watched for a moment as I touched myself.

Mom stepped away for just a moment and returned with her phone. She took several pictures of me sitting on the counter, naked, hard and touching myself. She handed the phone to me as she took over touching me. "Go ahead, take some pictures."

"Okay," I said, holding the phone to the side to catch both of us in the image.