MOMMY, YOU'VE BEEN NAUGHTY

Brendan's mother came into his bedroom unannounced and she was very lucky that she hadn't come in five minutes earlier otherwise she would have found her son masturbating whilst sniffing a pair of her panties that he had fished from the laundry hamper the day before.

"I'm off to work now Brendan, don't you go spending all day in bed," she leaned in and tousled his hair, enveloping him in a cloud of exotic perfume as she kissed his cheek.

Susan Montclair turned on her high heels and left the room. Under the coverlet his hard cock twitched. It grew to full tumescence as he stared at his mother's big ass swinging from side to side in that tight skirt and her long legs encased in her sheer shiny nude pantyhose.

Susan Montclair and her sister Veronica were the CEOs and sole operators of the Women's Savings Bank, a charity that helped women of modest means find affordable housing and assisted living. The two sisters operated the business from an office downtown and they were practitioners of the edict: 'you don't have to spend a fortune to look fabulous'. In fact they promoted moderation in all things materialistic and espoused that a sound investment in the future was the means for women to achieve financial independence.

They had a penchant for form-fitting power suits, big hair and high heels and even though they both carried a few extra pounds they did it well. The two thirty-something businesswomen didn't conventionally advertise, they relied on referrals and word of mouth to run their successful business and looking the part was important when snaring clients and dealing with investors. Women were very critical of other women.

Veronica was had borne two sons who were now fully-grown and had left home and she was divorced from their father and Susan had only Brendan who was eighteen and was waiting to go to college.

Brendan leapt out of bed and opened the curtain just enough to see his mother back out of the driveway in her one year old Prius. He picked up his tablet and padded naked down the hallway to his mother's bedroom, his long thick cock now flaccid and swinging between his legs. He opened the door to his mother's bedroom and was assaulted by the scent of Dior Poison, his mother's favourite perfume. His cock began to swell in anticipation.

He made his way to his mother's armoire and opened up the doors. It was one of the few pieces of furniture in the house that wasn't store-bought. He opened the top drawer and delighted in the sight of a colourful array of teddies, chemises, negligées, petticoats, camisoles and slips. They were all satin, charmeuse and nylon and exuded slippery coolness. Brendan lightly ran his fingertips across them being careful not to disturb them.

The next drawer contained his mother's panties, brassieres and hosiery. Like her undergarments, Susan's panties and bras were an assortment of colours and also manufactured from silky materials. There were no thongs, tangas or G-strings, his mother favoured control briefs for work and full-cut and hipster briefs for leisure. There were also a few precious pairs of French knickers. The panties were arranged by style with the matching brassieres adjacent.

His mother preferred Wolford control top pantyhose with reinforced toes. He had heard his mother and his aunt discussing hosiery and Susan had expressed that her Wolford control tops struck the ideal balance between sheerness and durability. Although noticeably darker than the lower deniers, they were still very translucent but importantly, less likely to snag if you so much as breathed on them.

One might wonder why an eighteen year old boy would have such an acute interest in hosiery and the answer was simple. Brendan had an intense nylons and lingerie fetish which had become a compulsion. It was not just that. His fetish was focussed primarily on his mother. Being an only child and fatherless Brendan had become fixated by his mother, very possessive of her and jealous of any man who he saw as a rival.

His fondest memories were of being cuddled by his mother and the scent of her perfume or the touch of her garments was enough to excite him sexually. As his mother had always been a business professional and had always dressed accordingly, he also transferred his incestual fetish onto her clothing, particularly her undergarments, hosiery and shoes.

Susan's high heels were lined up at the bottom of the armoire and she had quite a collection. None of them were Vuitton, Blahnik, Gucci, Louboutin or Choo. They were all chain store brands but the heels were all four inches or higher. Susan might wear cheaper brand high heels but it was one area of her life where she sacrificed comfort for style and one of Brendan's favourite pastimes was watching his mother take off a shoe and massage her toes through the reinforced nylon of her pantyhose feet or dangle a high heel from her perfectly formed foot encased in sheer nylon.

Besides a featherlight brushing with his fingertips, Brendan was careful not to disturb any of the garments or footwear. He'd had too many uncomfortable conversations with his mother about his fascination with her clothing.

He closed the armoire and went to her walk-in robe where her business suits were lined up hanging on one side of the space and her dresses, skirts and blouses were hung on the other side. Leggings and tights and other leisure and active wear were arranged in wire baskets. There was one pantsuit and one pair of skinny-jeans. Susan Montclair was not one for trousers.

Brendan walked into his mother's ensuite bathroom and went directly to her laundry hamper to find what he was looking for: yesterday's panties and pantyhose. He fished them out and brought them to his nose and inhaled his mother's scent. Her perfume was the most powerful odour, but he could also smell her perspiration, and in the crotch of the panties and pantyhose he could smell her cunt.

His cock was now fully tumescent a silvery strand of pre-ejaculate hung from the glans. Brendan put the crotch insert of his mother's panties on his cock to absorb the viscous fluid. The feel of the satiny garment on genitals caused his cock to twitch.

Brendan dropped the panties he had stolen yesterday back into the hamper and went back into the bedroom and lay on the bed. The same bed that his mother's body had warmed not that long ago. He could feel her presence. He put the panties and pantyhose down on the coverlet and fired up the tablet and found the file he was looking for and opened it.

On the screen his mother was walking around her bedroom dressed in her brassiere, panties, pantyhose and heels. She was wearing full makeup and her red hair was coiffed, a satin full-slip and her business suit lay on the bed ready to wear but she had been disturbed by an important business call on her mobile while she was dressing.

This was one of Brendan's favourite videos of him mother. He liked watching her pace the room talking animatedly on her cell-phone, her red lipsticked lips close to the phone, her free hand playing with her jewellery or stroking her hair. His favourite part was coming up where his mother put the phone on speaker and put it on the coverlet while she bent over and ran her hands up her legs to smooth the wrinkles out of her nylons.

Susan was the kinda gal who wore her panties over her pantyhose. The aesthetic pleased her and she found it more comfortable and although she would never tell anyone except her sister, she figured that as she preferred her skirts on the short side there was always going to be the accidental panty-peek and if that was going to be the case why hide her pretty panties under her control tops?

Brendan was lying on the bed, his mother's pink satin panties draped over his face so that he could smell and lick the crotch and see through the legholes. He'd carefully rolled the pantyhose onto his cock so that the reinforced toe encased his rock-hard penis. The feel of that delicate garment on his sensitive organ and knowing that his mother's toes had sweated in them whilst he inhaled the scent of her cunt was enough to invoke an orgasm but he waited for the best part of the video before he allowed himself release.

On the screen his mother ran her hands up her legs, pulling her nylons tight, easing the little wrinkles up past her knees, up her thighs to the dark bands of her control tops. Bent over as she was, her white spandex panties clung to her pudenda, the shape of her cunt clearly outlined in layers of lycra and nylon.

Brandan breathed deep, inhaling his mother's perfume and the stench of her cunt and released a flood of semen into the toe of her pantyhose, the diaphanous nylon rasping gently on his cock as it juddered and the toe of the nylon turned dark brown as it dampened with his fluids and then a bubble of semen burst through the nylon, clinging to it.

Despite the rapture he was feeling Brendan was careful to make sure that none of his semen got onto the bedspread. He lay there letting his orgasm peak and subside before he moved. He imagined that he looked quite comical walking into his mother's bathroom with her pantyhose dangling from his hard cock and her panties on his head but this is where he needed to be particularly careful. He'd made the mistake of leaving trace evidence of his perversions in the past and that conversation and the consequences had been very uncomfortable.

Brendan removed the panties from his head and put them on the vanity and then unrolled a handful of toilet paper and carefully dabbed at the semen clinging to the pantyhose. He dried the toe as best he could without leaving any evidence of the toilet tissue then he carefully laid the pantyhose in the hamper and put the pantyhose over them exactly as he had found them.

By the time his mother did the laundry and dropped her pantyhose and panties into a lingerie washing bag his semen would have dried and as he had ejaculated into the reinforced toe, the stain would not be noticeable. Brendan flushed the toilet and went back into the bedroom and looked up at the top of the armoire where his 8mm minicam was hidden amongst the dust-collectors that Susan had accumulated over the years. It was motion activated and linked by Bluetooth to the computer in his bedroom. He waved at the camera stupidly before making a final check that the bedclothes were smooth and everything was how he found it and then he left the room.

*****

Veronica Montclair's Volvo was already parked in her space when Susan parked her Prius beside it. Susan's sister had arrived at work before her but this was not unusual. The office of the Women's Savings Bank was unpretentiously located in a strip mall downtown just outside the city. It was very nice strip mall but a strip mall none the less which reflected the bank's maxim of maximising the bank's profits for the benefits of its benefactors and the needy women it served. Profits were split equally between the investors and those women who desperately needed affordable housing and assisted living.

Susan's heels click-clacked on the concrete parking lot as she walked purposely towards the office. She stopped suddenly when she saw a black Mercedes parked in one of the visitor's car parks. The car belonged to Vlad Holstein and that did not bode well. Vlad had never visited the women's only charity office before; business with him was always conducted off premises.

The Women's Savings Bank accepted deposits only from women and prided itself on being a women-only financial institution that helped other women. In the days when #Me Too and women's empowerment were de rigueur, women of substance were flocking to invest in organisations such as this.

The bank told depositors that it worked with a registered charitable organisation charity that wanted to help women of modest means. The bank promised a very high interest rate on deposits and financial security on money invested. In fact there was no such charity and The Women's Savings Bank relied on new deposits to pay the interest on older ones. It was for all intents and purposes a Ponzi scheme with Susan and Veronica skimming the cream.

Susana and Veronica's scheme had worked perfectly until the markets became volatile when some of their biggest depositors wanted to pull out their investments. Susan and Veronica had scrambled to pay them out with their accrued interest in order to convince the other investors that their money was safe and secure.

That was when they had no choice but to approach the likes of Vlad Holstein and take out a loan. Vlad Holstein presented as a handsome, astute businessman who wore fashion label suits and cruised the edges of high society like a shark looking for prey. The women knew that Vlad was the frontman for some very shady people but needs must when the Devil drives.

The offices of The Women's Savings Bank consisted of a reception area, a small conference room, an office each for Susan and Veronica and a small kitchenette. It was tastefully furnished but not extravagant, reflecting frugality not austerity. This was also reflected in cars the sisters drove, the clothes they wore, and the houses they lived in. The women did not display their hidden wealth.

Susan entered the offices and closed and locked the front door behind her. If they were doing business with Vlad Holstein it was best they not be seen to be doing so by the bank's investors. She could hear a muffled conversation coming from Veronica's office and she went straight there.

Veronica was pacing the floor of her office wearing a furrow in the carpet with her spiky high heels. She too had a disposition for tight-fitting, short-skirted power suits, big hair and heavy makeup. She wore so much costume jewellery that it rattled as she paced back and forth. Her blonde hair was teased out, her blouse buttoned low, her legs clad in shimmering hosiery and her heels were four inches: think Fran Drescher circa The Nanny only with blonde hair.

Vlad was sitting behind Veronica's desk, feet on the desktop and his hands behind his head exhibiting a classic power pose.

"Ah! And we are joined by the lovely Susan. I was just explaining to your sister here that the people I represent are a little disappointed in the returns on their investments," Vlad's eyes openly roaming over Susan's body with the 'male gaze'.

"And I'm sure Veronica has explained to you that we will soon be providing the people you represent with balloon payments to catch up on the overdue returns. As you know we went through some difficult times and that is why we came to you for help in the first place but now things are returning to normal," Susan explained sweetly but Veronica still looked worried.

Vlad got out of his chair and came around the front of the desk.

"Oh, well I see. That's all you had to say. Things are looking up. Things are hunky dory. We are entering the days of wine and roses," Vlad smiled at them both.

Both Susan and Veronica nodded their heads vigorously.

"Well in that case I will scurry away and tell my superiors not to worry," Vlad's smile became a sarcastic grin.

"But would you mind if I spoke to your sister alone? I know that she is younger than you but I have a better rapport with her," Vlad put his hand in the small of Veronica's back and guided her to the door.

"But this ismy office," Veronica squeaked.

Vlad just eased Veronica out of the door and clicked the lock. Susan felt a shiver run down her back.

"Look Vlad I…" Susan was about to speak when Vlad pushed her against the wall.

"You make a sound and I will bring your sister in and make her watch," Vlad hissed as he wrenched open Susan's blouse.

He pressed his face to hers and began to kiss her whilst his hands pawed her breasts, squeezing her tits and tweaking her nipples. To Susan's shame her nipples hardened and rings of pleasure radiated from them as Vlad's tongue jittered in her mouth. He was a handsome man with a lean, muscled body and in different circumstances she may have been a willing participant but Vlad didn't give her the option.

Vlad broke the kiss and dragged Susan over to Veronica's desk by her hair and bent her over it, pinning her to it with the weight of his body while he fumbled with his flies.

Susan wanted to scream but she knew the consequences. She felt Vlad's hard cock rubbing on her thighs and god help her, her moist cunny began to become fully wet.

"Please don't Vlad," Susan begged as Vlad stroked her vulva through her panties and pantyhose.

He could feel the heat of it, the moisture soaking through the layers of spandex and nylon. He rubbed his cock on her crack and enjoyed the feel of the silky fabric on his manhood. Susan felt the shape of Vlad's cock through her panties, it nestled in the crease of her labia and pressed on her aching clitoris and she bit down to stifle a groan.

Vlad eased aside the gusset of her panties and tore a little hole in her pantyhose and slid his cock all the way inside her. It slid into her easily, her vagina slick with secretions. He quickly unbuckled his belt and allowed his pants to fall around his ankles.

"Oh my!" Susan yelped; a cry that was half distress and half delight.

Vlad fucked her hard, her cunt clinging to his hard cock, her labia dripping with vaginal secretions. He grinned. The bitch liked it! He lifted her off the desk and mauled her tits while he slammed his cock in and out of her tight clunge, her big ass sheathed in the slinky pantyhose felt delightful against his thighs as he fucked her from behind.

Susan had not had sex for so long she had forgotten how wonderful it felt and she was quivering with delight as Vlad's cock opened her tight slick vagina, pressed on her g-spot and rubbed her clitoris, creating waves of rapture that coursed through her body.

She bit her lip to suppress a scream as she orgasmed when she felt Vlad's cock bloat and quiver as he ejaculated deep inside her cunt. She began to shake and shimmy with the force of it and Vlad smiled as he felt her cunt milk his cock of every drop of his spend.

When he had finished coming he pushed her off him and she fell against the desk, hanging on to it for support. She was gasping and moaning and maybe even crying a little but Vlad didn't care. He stood close behind her, inhaling her perfume and the scent of her sex. He caught a tail of Susan's blouse and wiped his cock on it and then pulled up his pants and zipped.

He leaned over her and whispered in her ear.

"I can do anything I want to you two bitches any time I want. Get me my fucking money!" he hissed.

Veronica could smell the sex as soon as she came back in her office. Susan was tucking in her blouse, her lipstick was smeared and her clothing dishevelled. Veronica looked away while Susan straightened her skirt, blouse and jacket.

"What did he do to you Susan?" Veronica whispered.

"Nothing I can't handle. We need to get him his money," Susan changed the subject.

"I have to see clients all day today and I have the women's rights fund-raiser to attend this afternoon," Veronica went around to her desk and fished her cigarettes from the drawer.

"Come to my place for dinner tonight and we'll talk it over. Maybe it's time to blow," Susan took a cigarette from her sister and they walked together through the kitchenette and out into the side alley to smoke.

"Don't you think Vlad won't find us if we take the money and run? Besides you have Brendan," Veronica said through a plume of smoke.Yes. I do have Brendan," Susan said as a dribble of Vlad Holsteins cum leaked from her vagina into her pantyhose and panties.

She thought it was very inappropriate to be thinking of her son while another man's spunk dribbled from her cunt but it reminded her that she needed to have another uncomfortable conversation with Brendan when she got home.

*****

Brendan heard the pattering of his mother's heels on the tiled floor downstairs and he closed down his computer where he had been editing the videos he taken in his mother's bedroom. Most of it was boring so he discarded it and edited only the scenes he particularly liked. He also had a collection of CFNM videos featuring mature women fucking young males that he kept on file and although they were very pornographic in nature he would actually turn to the videos of his mother when he required release.

He'd shut down his computer and put his collection of his mother's discarded pantyhose under the bed just in time as he heard her approaching and then a polite knock on the door.

"Come to my room Brendan we need to talk," his mother said.

Brendan got up and followed his mother's cloud of perfume. When they entered her bedroom and she turned to him, his eyes went to her pretty face and then slid down her body to those glorious long legs, her sheer shiny nude pantyhose glittering in the sunlight as the last of it streamed through the window.

Susan had a look of consternation on her face and she sat down on the bed and tapped the coverlet beside her. As she sat down her skirt rode up exposing acres of plump thigh.

"We need to talk again Brendan," his mother said in the husky voice that sounded so sexy to him.

Brendan sat down next to his mother, her mere proximity causing him to become tumescent. He did his best to hide it and to stop staring at his mother's legs which would only make the matter worse.

"I thought we had agreed that you would stop pilfering my underwear Brendan," his mother said sternly.

"No! I'm…" Brendan exclaimed before his mother cut him off.

"Don't lie to me son. I know what semen stains look like. I keep finding them in my nylons and panties and it could only be you who put them there. I know you are trying to disguise what you are doing with them but I can tell. Any woman can tell when her intimates have been tampered with," Susan sighed, looking down at the carpet.

"I deliberately leave my discarded nylons on top of the trash where you can find them and I know that you take them. So why are you so bent on using the nylons and panties I'm still wearing when I know you have a collection of my old nylons under your bed?" Susan turned to face her son.

Brendan froze. His mother knew about his nylons collection. Well why wouldn't she; she was the one who cleaned and vacuumed his room after all. At least she didn't know about the camera otherwise she would have led with that.

"Come on son, tell me," Susan said, putting her hand on her son's leg to encourage him.

Brendan looked down at his mother's long fingers adorned with inexpensive gaudy rings, her long fingernails polished to a bright red hue, only inches from his hard cock.

"The truth mom? There is something special about the underwear you have worn. The ones you discard and I take from the trash lose their allure not long after I've taken them. Knowing that the panties and pantyhose in the laundry basket have been taken recently from your body does something. They have your smell, your essence on them. When I touch them I feel like I'm touching you," Brendan confessed.

"What do you mean touching me Brendan?" Susan sounded alarmed.

"What's wrong with you? Do you want to fuck your own mother?" she hissed.

"No mom! It's just that I want a woman who is very much like you. There is something about you," Brendan was lost for words.

"Brendan, I'm close to forty and I'm big-assed. You should be chasing pretty young cheerleaders," Susan patted her son's leg reassuringly.

"But that's it mom. I don't like those skinny-ass, bare-legged, fresh-faced cheerleader types. I like mature women who wear pantyhose and dress sophisticated, wear lots of makeup and have long legs and big asses. Women like you… but not you if you know what I mean," Brendan stumbled on.

"Yes I kind of get it. I know what a MILF is and I suppose I should be flattered but it's a bit creepy knowing that I'm my son's fantasy woman," Susan chuckled.

Just then the doorbell chimed.

"That's your aunt Veronica. We have important matters to discuss. Come down and say hello and then excuse yourself and fix yourself something to eat," Susan patted Brendan's leg not knowing that her fingers were mere inches away from her son's hard cock.

Brendan followed his mother downstairs. Veronica was still in her business suit, heels and hose having just come from the fund-raising event.

"My god! Look how big you've gotten! You're almost a full grown man," Veronica squealed and lunged at Brendan and hugged him and kissed his cheek.

Brendan was enveloped by his big-breasted, heavily perfumed, big-assed, long-legged aunt who looked very much like his mother except for her blonde hair. Brendan's cock leapt to attention as his aunt smothered him with kisses and held him close. He put his arms around her and hugged her back, inhaling her perfume and delighting in the feel of matronly body against his. His cock pressed into her little pot-belly and he took the liberty of letting his hands drift down to her ass.

Veronica was suddenly aware that Brendan was concupiscent and holding her by her ass. She could feel his cock on her belly and his fingers softly stroking her buttocks. She was a little flattered that a teenage boy found her attractive but unsettled that it was her nephew. Susan had told her about Brendan fiddling with her underwear. Veronica had raised two boys of her own and knew the all about the sexual peculiarities they developed in their teenage years.

She gently eased out of the embrace and took a sly look down and saw the lump in his jeans and smiled to herself, knowing she was responsible.

"I'll leave you fine ladies to talk business but I'll just help myself to some cheese and crackers before you settle in," Brendan said.

He led his mother and his aunt into the kitchen and made a fuss about getting a plate and some cheese and a box of Ritz crackers while Susan made drinks for herself and her sister.

Brendan turned on the voice record function on his phone and secreted it on the shelf under the breakfast bar where he knew that his mother and Veronica sat to talk whenever she visited.

*****

Brendan listened to the recording the next day with some amazement. He knew that his mother and Susan made a lot of money from their business but he didn't know that they were hiding it in overseas bank accounts or that they were outright fraudsters. His mother's maxim of frugality not austerity was reflected in the way they lived: a modest house, modest clothes, modest cars, budget holidays and little cash to splash around.

And all the time his bitch mother was hiding millions of dollars!

Brendan wasn't sure if he was angry at her or more in love with her. What a conniving pair of women they were! But now that Brendan knew, he had leverage. His mother and aunt were scared that this Vlad Holstein guy was going to ruin their business and from what his mother inferred, the Vlad guy had done something very distasteful to her in Veronica's office. The thought of someone fucking his mother against her will made Brendan become very aroused. That was something he could get off on.

But now that he had leverage he might be able to use it to his own advantage. He went online and did some research.

Susan came home that evening and went straight up to her bedroom. She was wearing a mauve business suit, short-skirted as usual, with sheer taupe control-top pantyhose and shiny black high heels. She was surprised when Brendan followed her into the bedroom. He was holding a folder and had a strange look on his face.

"Whatever it is son, it will have to wait. I want to get out of my heels and change into something a little more comfortable," Susan said flippantly waving him away.

"I don't think so mom. Stay dressed just as you are and sit on the bed," Brendan said, his voice very commanding.

"What did you say? Who do you think you're talking to Brendan? I'm your mother for god's sake!" Susan snapped at him angrily.

"I'm talking to a co-conspirator in a Ponzi scheme and I'm holding an FBI Economic Crimes Unit crime reporting document that I downloaded from their website. It will be easier for me to fill it in online I suppose," Brendan fanned the document in the folder and then dropped it on his mother's bed.

Susan looked at the FBI logo on the document and her blood froze. She sat down on the bed her head spinning. She was in such a daze that she didn't realise that her skirt had ridden right up and she was showing off her pretty pink nylon panties with little bows on the front.

Brendan's eyes locked his mother's crotch as he sat down beside her.

"You've been very naughty mommy," Brendan chuckled and Susan looked at her son with disbelief.

"But don't worry I won't tell anyone," he continued.

"That is I won't tell anyone anything so long as you are nice to me," his smile looked wicked to Susan.

"I'm always nice to you Brendan. You have everything you've ever wanted within reason. I've never chastised you or been physical with you," Susan said, her voice filled with shock.

"Not that kind of nice mommy, this kind of nice," Brendan brazenly put his hand on his mother's thigh.

As a reflex action, Susan slammed her thick thighs shut but all she succeeded in doing was trapping Brendan's hand between her legs which pleased him greatly. He had always wanted to feel his mother's nylon-sheathed legs and now he was. Her skin was soft and warm under the gauzy nylon. Brendan wiggled his fingers so that he could stroke those luscious thighs.

"Stop that Brendan!" his mother hissed.

"Or what? You'll go to the police? Do we really want to talk to law enforcement or anyone for that matter about what goes on in this house and at your place of work? I know they would be interested. But I prefer you and Susan dressed in power suits and high heels rather than orange jumpsuits with DOC stencilled on the back," Brendan chuckled.

"You're blackmailing your own mother?" Susan was astounded.

"You could call it that or you could think of us as partners. Only I'll be a silent partner because we wouldn't want anyone to know what happens in this bedroom between us would we mommy," Brendan leaned in and tried to kiss his mother but she baulked and moved her head away.

"Stop this rubbish immediately Brendan! I'll put your little display of grossness down to teenage angst or whatever but get your hands off me and get of my room!" Susan pushed her son away and Brendan removed his hand from between her legs.

"Ok mommy. No problems. Brendan stood up and walked to the door and leaned against jamb and pulled out his mobile phone while he studied the document he was holding.

He punched in a number and put the phone to his head.

"Yes. Hello FBI? Informer hotline please," Brendan looked pointedly at his mother.

Susan leapt off the bed and snatched Brendan's phone from his hand and cancelled the call. She stood there panting, not believing that her own son would treat her this way. It was bad enough that men like Vlad Holstein took advantage of her, but her own son?

"What do you want?" Susan whispered.

"I think you know what I want mommy. I told you what I like," Brendan reached out and stroked his mother's pretty face.

A thousand thoughts raced through Susan's mind as she assessed the god-awful situation she was in. There was no doubt that her son would carry out his threats if she didn't give him what he wanted and she knew what he wanted, as sickening as that was. Or was it?

Wasn't this the boy who had suckled her breasts and whose ass she had wiped, washed and powdered? Whose penis she bathed and had become erect whilst doing so; which at the time she had found a little funny. It's not like she didn't know every inch of his body. Was it really that bad that he wanted to touch her? She knew his fetishes. She could play on that and use it to her advantage to keep Brendan happy until she figured out how to deal with him.

"I'm not talking off my clothes," Susan blurted out, surprising both Brendan and herself.

"Err. I don't want you to mom," Brendan couldn't believe that his mother was going to play along.

"Sit on the bed and let's get this over with," Susan pointed at her bed with the pink satin coverlet where Brendan liked to lie and smell his mother's odours while he masturbated into her nylons.

His dream was coming true and he could hardly believe it.

Brendan sat on the bed and his mother went into her ensuite bathroom and returned holding a pair of her pantyhose that she had fished from the laundry basket.

"Well don't just sit there, pull down your pants," Susan stood with her hands hips looking at him impatiently.

His mother looked so sexy posed that way. Her stance caused her skirt to ride up a little and he could see the dark bands of her control top pantyhose below the hem.

Brendan pulled down his pants and briefs together and they bunched around his ankles. His cock stood out from his crotch rock hard with a dribble of silvery pre-um dangling for the eye. Susan was surprised at how big her son's cock was. She hadn't seen it since he'd entered adulthood and it was quite impressive. She chastised herself for admiring it.

"Ok, I presume this is how you do it," Susan knelt down before him and draped the leg of the pantyhose over his stout member.

Brendan had to think of drowning kittens to take his mind off what was happening. His beautiful mother was on her knees, putting a pair of her pantyhose over his cock and she was going to wank him off. Her skirt was right up at the top her thighs and he could see her coffee-coloured control-tops with her pink nylon panties over them. He could just make out the shape of her vulva. Her perfume was beguiling and her pretty face was only inches from his cock as she concentrated on smoothing out the leg of the pantyhose over his rampant member.

Her fingers felt velvety as his mother drew the nylon sheath over his cock. It felt sublime: like a thousand butterflies were tickling his penis with their wings. The silky nylon slid along his sensitive flesh, his mother's fingers caressing his turgid manhood. His eyes went from his mother's face to the nylon stocking covering his cock, the sheer nylon darkened as precum dribbled from his cock and was absorbed by the stocking.

"That's lovely mom," Brendan whispered, his face a picture of rapture.

Susan had never felt so humiliated as she slowly masturbated her son using her own hosiery. At least it kept her fingers off his flesh she thought to herself as she tried unsuccessfully to pull down her skirt with her free hand. She stopped trying. What did it matter? She was suffering the indignity of masturbating her son so why should a little panty peek bother her?

But something wasn't right. She couldn't look away from her son's massive erection. It was impressive and she wondered what it would feel like inside a woman. Inside her. She shook the thought away and looked at Brendan's face. His face was a picture of bliss. He was looking at her panties and then down at his cock as his mother worked her fingers up and down his hard phallus, the nylon stocking covering it, making it look long and sleek.

It felt so warm and hard and she could feel it pulsing and powerful in her fingers. She traced the veins with a finger from the tip of the glans to the base of his shaft and then she lightly cupped his scrotum wrapped in the pantyhose she was using to masturbate him.

"Oh that's lovely mom," Brendan sighed again and met her gaze.

She saw the love in her son's eyes but she saw the lust there too and she knew that it was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong!

But then why was she feeling a tingling down there in her pussy? Why was she becoming wet? Would Brendan see? Would her vaginal secretions make her panties damp enough for Brendan to see the effect he was having on her?

She justified her actions because her son was blackmailing her and she had no choice but to do as he asked. But that didn't explain why she was becoming sexually aroused.

She realised that she doing it all wrong. She should get her son off as quickly as possible and get this over with.

Susan gripped her son's cock tightly and began to whip her hand up and down it, sliding the silky nylon stocking up and down as she did so. Brendan's eyes closed as he felt a magical sensation that he couldn't describe as the silky pantyhose caressed his cock, his mother's fingers sliding up and down on it.

Brendan leaned down and kissed his mother, at first closed mouthed and when she didn't baulk he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She tasted wonderful. Her lipstick smeared on his lips as his tongue explored her mouth. His mother didn't really respond but she didn't stop him either. Then suddenly his mother slipped her tongue into his mouth and squeezed his cock, the pantyhose slid over his sensitive frenulum and he cried out into his mother's sweet mouth as he climaxed.

Susan felt her son's cock quiver and she couldn't help but break the kiss and lean in close and look down at her long fingers with her bright-red fingernails caressing her son's engorged member.

A pearl of semen oozed from the eye of Brendan's penis and caught in the micromesh of the pantyhose that was shrouding it. Susan couldn't help but be fascinated by it and she leaned in to take closer to look.

"Oh dear! Gracious me! Oh my goodness!" she squealed as her son's cock spasmed and a geyser of scalding semen erupted from his cock and burst through the nylon and splattered onto her face.

The next spurt sprayed into her hair, the following gobbet doused her bosom. Impulsively and unconsciously she gripped her son's cock tighter as an innate reaction to his ejaculation. She was inadvertently milking her son of all of his spunk and Brendan was loving it.

The remaining few spurts of Brendan's issue fell on her jacket and her blouse, the last one spattered on her skirt.

Brendan was breathless and joyful; he had never felt such pleasure, such release.

Susan had never felt so degraded but why was her pussy itching like it needed to be scratched?

"Ok! That's enough!" Susan let go of her son's throbbing penis and pushed herself away from him. She stood up and did her best to wipe her son's semen off her face.

Brendan looked up at his mother, her face and hair defiled by his semen, his cum spattered on her jacket, blouse and skirt. A rope of the creamy white spunk clung to her thigh, slowly soaking into her pantyhose. Brendan was so excited by the sight of it that he was ready to go again but looking at the storm brewing on his mother's face he knew better than to push his luck.

He jumped to his feet and pulled up his underpants and jeans. He had difficulty zipping them because his cock was still engorged. His mother didn't say a word, she stood there silently seething, staring at the floor.

"Thanks mom, that was great," he patted her shoulder on the way out of her bedroom, the pantyhose she had used to masturbate him hung out of his back pocket like a trophy.

Susan slammed the door closed behind him and locked it. She fell with her back against the door and hiked up her skirt. She rolled her pantyhose and panties down to expose her steaming vulva and slipped two fingers inside her vagina and worked her clitty with her thumb and came almost immediately, tasting her son's semen on her lips and smelling the musky stench of his seed on her clothing and in her hair.When her orgasm eventually subsided she stripped naked and took a long shower, taking the detachable shower head and directing the nozzle on her cunt as she rubbed out another orgasm. She kept seeing that bubble of spunk bursting through the pantyhose and then erupting into a glutinous shower of semen that spattered her face and splashed on her suit. She remembered how the rope of cum that had landed on her inner thigh seemed to burn through her nylons and scald her flesh.

She hated herself for feeling this way; for allowing her teenage son to manipulate her, for succumbing to his vile threats but what could she do? Men seemed to be taking whatever they wanted from her and as much as she hated it she was also turned on by it. Was the sexual arousal linked to her helplessness? She had orgasmed when Vlad Holstein had raped her in Veronica's office and she had climaxed after her son had made her beat him off into her nylons.

What was happening to her?