Mom Catches Son Watching

(Bronson)

I lay awake in my childhood room staring at the ceiling and feeling sorry for myself. My recent divorce landed me back home for no other reason than I had nowhere else to go. I knew dad was not happy to see me back home, but, in the past few weeks, I had tidied up his tools in the garage and did other chores to make myself useful. It seemed to have worked.

Now mom was a different story entirely, for she had not wanted me to leave home in the first place. She thought I was too young to be married. I did too, but that's what one did when you get a girl pregnant.

She went out of her way to fix meals that she knew I enjoyed, which only pissed off dad. I had almost saved enough to rent my own apartment, but I was weeks away from my goal. I was a fiddler on a hot tin roof.

Glancing at the clock told me it was 1:30 am. I had to pee. I left the bed, very quietly opened my door, and tiptoed down the hall towards the bathroom. I knew I was going to pass my parent's bedroom and I shuffled quietly over the carpet.

I was only a few feet from their door when I noticed the door was cracked about 2 inches and I hugged the far wall to avoid being noticed. I looked through the crack and was instantly stopped in my tracks. I had limited view but I could tell that mom and dad were both naked and engaged in sex. I had to pee real bad but knew if I continued they would surely know I was up, discover the door cracked, and there would be questions. I returned to my room, found a jug and relieved myself, and returned to my bed. I lay there many minutes fighting mixed emotions. I wanted to creep back to the door, but was terrified I might be seen. My curiosity won out and I again opened my door very quietly and shuffled down the hall.

Peering in, the bed was situated against the left wall, giving me a sidelong view of mom and dad. I noted that dad's head was turned away from the door. Mom was looking at the ceiling. I immediately focused on my mother. Having me late in life at 30, she was now 53. She was not pretty, more handsome, I suppose, and not at all shapely, but her skin was milky white and smooth. Her thighs and ass were large but pristine. I desperately wanted to see her breast, but could not, as dad lay heavily atop her. She lay on her back under my father, her legs wrapped around him, but she did not seem to be participating with any zeal or emotions. She uttered no encouragement and was otherwise disengaged. A zombie came to mind.

My father, on the other hand, seemed to be fully absorbed in fucking my mother. His hands were gripping her ass and I could hear his labored breathing. My hand went to my crotch and I started to rub, through the fabric of my pajamas, an ever-increasing erection, but it never became a full-blown hard-on. It was hard to become sexually aroused by such a one-sided affair, especially when my main focus was the opposite sex, my mother.

I remember my own wife, Betty, when she began to respond in such a way, lying there while I satisfied my sexual craving. Doing her duty. It made me wonder if everything was all right between my mom and dad. It seemed they had been married forever. Had I just subconsciously suggested that an interloper might have a chance?

My gaze left my mother's sensuous ass and I froze. Had mom noticed me? Was she staring at me through the crack in the door?

(Annabel)

I lay there staring at the ceiling. The cock inside me did nothing to stir any sexual desire within me. I had held him off for three weeks this time. The past few days he had begun to snap at me and I knew it was time to do my duty. I could, if I so desired, take care of myself tomorrow when I was home alone.

I looked toward the door, actually at the clock on the wall as I wanted this to be over, but I saw the door was cracked. I did not remember leaving the door cracked and rebuked

myself for not having been more careful. My son was back in the house and I needed to be more careful.

Was there someone there? Was he there? My breath caught when I realized that my son was peeking through the crack, spying on us. I immediately threw out the word "spying", as it was my fault the door was cracked. It would only be natural for a man to be inquisitive, even a son of his parents, his mother.

I did not feel it immediately, but I felt a surge of sexual desire swell inside me. There was something provocative and sexually mischievous about knowing someone was watching us. Knowing my son was watching me. A moan escaped my lips and my legs tighten around my husband's waist. I felt my clit come alive and my hips began to lift to meet his thrust, to sink his cock deeper into me.

Surprisingly to me, my thoughts were not of my husband, the man actually fucking me, but of my son standing at the door, undoubtedly, toying with a hard cock. Also, more surprising to me, if I was given the choice as to which one I wanted between my legs at this moment, I would choose my son over my husband.

(Bronson)

I was frozen and could not move. She was indeed aware of my presence at the door. I had seen her astonished look when she had realized someone was there, that I was there. But she made no effort to shoo me away, with a wave of her hand. Nor did she make dad aware. I stood there mortified.

Slowly I relaxed, knowing, as the minutes passed, she had accepted my presence and I watched, mystified, as she became a willing participant in sexual intercourse. I heard her moans. I watched her ass arch to meet my dad's thrust. I watched her body come alive in the semidarkness of the bedroom.

I reached into my briefs to grip my cock.

"Fuck me, baby!" I heard her exclaim. "Do you feel your cock deep inside my belly? Fuck me good!"

Dad had stopped concentrating on his own desires and was now focusing his attention on mom. He lifted off of her and they stared at each other as dad, his hands behind her knees, pushed her thighs back and spread wide. I could see her breast now. They were ample and heavy, her nipples were firm and plump.

"Give me that cock, Dan!" I heard mom exclaim. "Fuck me hard!"

I could tell dad was pulling his cock nearly out of her before plunging hard and deep back into her. Then he stilled his thrusting, and I was mesmerized as mom continued thrusting her pussy onto his cock, fucking herself into a lustful frenzy.

I watched, intoxicated, until her orgasm seized her, her ass moving like a piston out of control. Dad let her orgasm calm, then, reaffirmed his grip on her ass. He fucked her hard and fast as she moaned, like a stricken animal. He was close and I did not want to witness him filling her belly with his cum. Needless to say, I certainly did not want to get caught by dad. I shuffled quietly back to my room and, lying there in the dark, masturbated to the visions, remembering the moans, I had just witnessed. In my fantasy, I was the one to fill mom's pussy.

(Annabel)

I thought I was going to go insane! I was aware that Dan had stopped actively fucking me but I could not control myself and locked my eyes on the, not his in my mind, cock as I impaled myself on to it until my orgasm hit. As my orgasm slipped away, my desire to keep fucking was intense. I could care less that he would reap the benefit of my desire. Tonight, all I wanted him to do was keep fucking me. As usual, he only did so until he shot off.

Although I had told him so, it was not my husband's, cock that had made me all a twitter. Before this night, I had never consciously had any sexual thoughts of my son. But now, I knew the incestuous desires had been hiding just below the surface. Knowing he was there at the door watching me fuck had brought on the best orgasm I had ever experienced. I had never been so vocal, either.

After my orgasm, Dan locked onto my ass again.

"Fuck me with that big cock!" I exclaimed, which truth. "Give it to me, baby!

Fill my belly with that I cum!"

I felt guilty for ignoring my son, under the circumstances it could not have been helped. When I turned my gaze back to the door, I was a disappointed not to see my son peeking through the door. I hoped he had seen me come.

Before I dozed off, I pondered what the morning would hold?

(Daniel)

After Annabel dosed off, I left the bed quietly and reset the video camera I have had trained on our bed for two years or more. It's not that I distrust my wife, but I have been aware of her sexual disinterest and was curious if she was sexually satisfying her own needs, or, just maybe the absurdity of a lover. It could possibly tell me if she suspected my fooling around or her distractions were due to age.

I had discovered that she was indeed satisfying her own needs. I became fond of watching her masturbate and playing with her various toys. I also enjoyed reviewing the video of me fucking her, sometimes masturbating myself. I could not understand her unwillingness to fuck more often.

Also, as an electronics salesman, it allowed me to test new equipment. I'm quite good at my job and was able to set up the camera so I could connect to it virtually anywhere in the country, as I do travel a bit. It is not uncommon for me to bring up the camera on my laptop while I watch TV or fuck the occasional call girl. There has been occasions when a call girl would be with me during the day and bringing up the camera while my wife was masturbating. It was amusing and, yes, added to the sex at hand.

(Breakfast)

With the early morning, lying distracted while her husband fucked her one last time before leaving, she came to a decision. Last night had brought it to the surface and she could not ignore it any longer. She needed some sexual excitement in her life and there was no need to go looking for it elsewhere. If Bronson was willing, and she was positive that he Was, he would be the pathway to that sexual excitement. She would give herself to her son. She wanted him to fuck her.

"Good morning, honey." Annabel welcomed her son as he entered the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind I let you sleep through breakfast with Dan? He was late for the plane. He'll be gone three or four days."

The reference to Dan instead of dad was intentional. As was, telling him that his father would be gone in a few days.

"Not at all, mom." Bronson replied.

"I thought it would be better if we had a little talk alone." Annabel added, as she sat the pancakes and coffee on the table and sat down, waiting for her son to take a seat.

"Good idea. I need to apologize, mom." Bronson began. "I did not mean to spy on you and dad last night. And I appreciate you not letting on to dad."

Annabel had not been sure what she was going to say to her son, but she certainly was not anticipating his apology. She had no idea how to make known her newfound desire and, now, she had been blindsided by his apology. She had acknowledged his presence last night, but did he not suspect that she was willing to go further? Confused, she squelched the desire to declare her willingness to allow him to bed her. Hell, her plans were dashed. She sat there naked under her housecoat and was prepared to climb on the table should their conversation take the right path. Clearly it was not and it didn't appear he was going to fuck her this morning as she had counted on.

" No, I need to apologize to you for leaving the door cracked." She said. "I need to get use to having you around the house again, I suppose."

"I'll just have to not drink so much liquid before bedtime." He proposed. "I need to cut out some of those Cokes. Maybe even lose some weight"

"Oh! You don't need to lose any weight you look fine to me. And, me and your dad do not engage in such shenanigans that often." She confessed, being a bit coy. "To be honest, honey, your dad doesn't interest me sexually anymore. I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't be talking to you so openly about such things."

"It's okay, mom." Branson replied with concern. "You need to talk to someone. But last night, it looked like you were really started to have a good time, after a bit, that is?"

"That's just the point, honey! I have to confess to being bad!" Annabel explained timidly. "I got excited because of you watching us! It seemed so naughty and provocative. I just couldn't help myself. It made me feel alive again!"

"In that case, mom." Bronson replied, teasingly. "You'll have to tell me when you and dad are going to do it, and you can be sure the is door cracked."

"I can appreciate your humor. I'll have to consider doing just that. And then, when your dad catches you he'll kick you out of the house for good. Is that what you want?" Annabel challenged. "Are you telling me that you can just watch him screw me and not have any feelings yourself?"

"No! I'm not telling you that." He defended. "I was being bad too, playing with myself, watching y'all. Watching you, really! I went back to my bed and jerked off!"

"What were you thinking about?" She questioned.

"When?" He asked.

"Damn it, Bronson!" She exclaimed. "When you were jerking off! And, when you were watching us, watching me?"

"What do you want me to say?" Bronson questioned, needing to hear the words from her lips, her desires. "What will make you happy?"

"I LET you watch last night! I thought maybe you would expect us to be, you know, a little closer now?" Annabel replied. "We were not physical but it was still intimate."

"We've always been close, mom!" He exclaimed, and then lied. "And you think me watching dad screw you was intimate? I don't know what you're getting at?"

"You don't know what I'm getting at? You're not serious? Just eat your damn breakfast and get the hell out of here!" She exclaimed. "I've got work to do."

Mother and son parted company.

Branson went to work knowing exactly what his mother desired, but he was unwilling to make the first move or vocalize his own desires. He was, certainly, in bad need of a woman's intimacy and after last night had rationalized that his mother could satisfy that need, if she would just spell it out for him. Sure! One could argue that she had proved it last night by not sending him away, acknowledging his presence and was not a bit upset with him at breakfast. But, she appeared to play cat and mouse and tiptoed around the obvious. Why was she so stubborn and not say it out loud. Was being rejected that much of a fear to her? Was it his fear too? Would a few minutes of incestuous sex be a disaster for both of them? He vowed that he would not be the first one to openly express his desires.

With her last words, Annabel rushed out of the kitchen near tears. She remained in her bedroom until she heard the door shut and the engine start on her son's car.

Their discussion had rattled her to the bones and she could not understand why her son was acting so stupid. It was clear to her what both of them wanted, even needed. She had wanted him to drag her off to the bedroom and fuck her until she couldn't stand, but that had not happened, and she was confused and baffled. She was aware that she was a bit big boned and on the heavy side. Did he not find her attractive enough? Surely the incest question was put to rest last night? Was not, watching your mother be screwed, only a step away from screwing her? Would a mother openly let her son watch her being screwed, and him not realize that she was opening the sexual door for him, to enter. Of course, he could be fearful of impregnating her. She must find some way to let him know that was impossible.

(Evening at home)

Annabel had supper prepared as usual. After eating supper, without much conversation, mother and son parted company again.

Annabel took her usual shower and put on her sleeping clothes, which amounted to fresh panties and a light nightgown.

Bronson, as part of his effort to make himself useful, did the dishes and when his mother entered her room, he took his own shower and put on long-legged pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.

But instead of going to the living room to watch TV, as usual, he knocked lightly at his mother's door.

"Come in, honey." Annabel called.

"You're not going to watch TV with me tonight?" Bronson queried.

"I thought I would relax a little tonight." She lied. "I'm a little tired. But here, why don't you join me and watch TV in here with me?"

Annabel saw his hesitation and added. "Come on scaredy-cat. I don't bite."

"I know you don't bite, mom." Bronson responded, as he joined her on the bed, leaving a good 2 feet between them.

(Somewhere in a motel)\

"Isn't that sweet!" The call girl said to Daniel. "That's ya'll son. Do they watch TV together in bed often?"

"Yes, of course! What are you implying?" Daniel snapped.

"Just teasing you, Dan." She defended. "You've shown me pictures of your wife and son before, you know?"

"Sorry, sugar. Of course I have." Daniel replied. "He's a pain in my ass. But he'll be out soon."

"I would think having him there would keep someone else from taking care of business at home?" The call girl continued to tease.

"Come over here, Cora, sugar!" He demanded. "Put your lips around this and maybe it will keep you quiet and you will still get that big tip I promised."

The sound on the laptop was turned down to allow Daniel and his companion to watch their own TV, which was showing a sexually explicit movie. Two lamps, on both sides of Annabel's TV provided sufficient light in her bedroom, though the expensive camera was quite capable of viewing a darkened room.

Daniel watched the sexually explicit video as he received the blow-job. Afterwards, as usual, he drifted off to a liquor induced deep sleep, leaving the young call girl to entertain herself. Being paid for the whole night, she knew in the morning he would want to fuck her, so, she retrieved a book out of her bag. She stopped the TV video, but left the laptop on, occasionally glancing at it. She could see mom and son as they reclined on the bed. She could see their lips moving, but as the sound was turned down she could not hear what they were talking about.

(On mom's bed)

Making himself comfortable on the bed, he turned his attention to the TV.

"If you don't like crime shows, we can turn to another channel?" Annabelle quarried.

"It doesn't matter what we watch." Bronson answered. "Your choice."

"Did you have a good day at work?" Annabelle asked, making small talk.

Mother and son continued the small talk between long moments of silence as each struggle to find a topic of discussion.

Annabel laid propped up high on her two pillows, knees high, feet flat on the bed. This caused her flimsy nightgown to drop on her slightly plump belly. She had pushed the material between her thighs, effectively covering her lavender colored panties, but left her thighs mostly revealed. Anyone appraising her legs would have little choice but to give them an A+ rating. Though large, and along with her equally smooth, large ass, her legs were smooth as silk with a milky white color, as she had always shied from the sun. Her coal black hair, cut in a Prince Valiant style, and her thick dark rimmed glasses, gave her a childish appearance sitting there on the bed. With quick sideways glances, Bronson absorbed all of the above, plus, the already firm and hard nipple of her right breast, pushing hard against the flimsy fabric of the nightgown.

Bronson sat upright against his pillows with his legs straight out in front of him, spread slightly. Annabel had little to scan except her son's crotch. She had noticed his secretive glances and watched the elongated bulge grow under the pajama bottoms, causing her body to become warm, despite her skimpy dress and the 72° setting on the air-condition.

"You know, Bronson." Annabel said, totally changing the subject of the weather. "We can't take the chance again of you watching through the cracked door. I hope you understand?"