Mother's Nude Day Nightmare Ch. 02

It wasn't as if I haven't flashed her my cock before, I have. She's seen my flaccid cock plenty of times. Even though I've flashed her my mother my cock lots of times over the years by making it appear accidental, flashing her my erection intentionally was different. This time, making my sexual desire for her known by flashing her my erection, I was intent on not making my flash appear accidental, as I've always done in the past, but intentionally. Blatantly flashing her my erect cock with the intention that I wanted to have sex with her, needing to know her reaction to seeing my erect prick, I wanted her to know that I was purposely flashing her my prick. A big step, even after years of wanting to flash her my erection, with my guilt overruling my sexual excitement, I didn't know if I could go through with it.

With me taking the first step by flashing her my erect prick, for once and for all, grabbing for all of the gusto, I wanted to know if she'd take the next step with me and cross that incestuous line by staring at my cock, stroking my cock, and/or returning the favor by flashing me her naked body. Needing to take the first step, if I waited for her to make the first move, having incestuous sex with her would never happen. It was up to me to make my sexual desires for her known and on what better day to test the incestuous waters than on Nude Day, my birthday.

"Make a wish Charlie and blow out your candles," said my mother smiling up at me while leaning over my birthday cake in the way that I was.

She was wearing one of her sexy nightgowns and, when leaning forward to light my candles, as if she needed to ignite any more incestuous fire that burned deep down inside me, was giving me a clear down blouse view of her beautiful breasts. Thinking that my birthday wish was to wish that I could stick my horny hand down my mother's low cut, sheer nightgown and feel her breasts while fingering her nipples, I changed my wish from a specific one to a more general one to encompass all that I was feeling.

'I wish I could have sex with my mother,' I thought to myself before blowing out my birthday candles.

If my Mom rejected me and was angry at me for flashing her my erection, I could apologize and chalk everything up to a hormonal imbalance. She'd understand. She'd forgive me. Why wouldn't she? She's my mother.

'I'm sorry that I flashed you my erection Mom,' I imagined saying to her while standing there naked after sticking my horny hand down her open nightgown top and feeling her breasts while fingering her nipples.

'It's okay Charlie. You have a beautiful cock,' I imagined her saying while staring at my swollen prick before reaching out her hand to hold me, stroke me, and before falling to her knees to suck me.

* * * * *

Getting myself in the mood to flash her, not that I wasn't ever in the mood to flash her, I stroked myself to a huge erection. A next huge step for me to take in trying to seduce my mother by purposely showing her my erection, I thought of all of the times I peeped on her dressing and undressing while masturbating later of all that I saw of her. Unable to tell one from the other, I thought of all the times that she purposely or inadvertently flashed me. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she never deliberately flashed me in the way that I wanted her to deliberately flash me and in the way that I intentionally wanted to flash her. A big deal for me to cross the incestuous line but tired of being the one flashed, not that I'd ever tire of seeing bits and pieces of my mother's hot body, but now wanting to be the one doing the flashing, two can play that sexy game of exhibitionism and voyeurism.

In the way she always barges in on me when I'm in my bedroom, tit and pussy for cock and balls, I slowly waded in the incestuous, teasing waters by purposing flashing her my flaccid cock, until I was neck deep in my perversion for the sexual desire for my mother. A brazen move on my part, as nervous as I imagined I'd be shoplifting or do something illegal, which I never have done, I started barging in on her at the most inappropriate times, specifically when I knew she was dressing or undressing.

In the way I've seen her reaction to seeing me naked, I needed to see her reaction to me seeing her naked. Important for me to read her face, I needed to know her reactions to seeing me naked and me seeing her naked for me to continue in my seduction of my mother. I needed to know if my desire for her was mutual. Being the sneaky, degenerate son that I am, timing my moves perfectly while listening at her bedroom door, I always tried to time the precise moment to barge in her bedroom, just as she was removing her nightgown, removing her bra, or putting on her bikini.

With her large C cup breasts, flat, toned stomach, and a beautiful round, firm ass, my Mom still has a hot enough body to wear a bikini. Maybe it was just my perverse imagination but as if my timing was perfect or as if my mother knew I was about to barge in on her, I caught her naked and semi-naked more often than not. After a while, I caught her naked so often that I began to suspect that she was standing there naked while waiting for me to barge in on her in the way that I stood in my room naked while waiting for her to barge in on me. With both of us playing such a silly, striptease game of seduction, while hoping and waiting for one or the other to take the first step, obviously we were both afraid to cross the incestuous line of incest.

More than once, I caught a few, quick flashes of her tits and pussy, enough to give me more fodder to masturbate over but, with every flash I caught of her semi-naked and naked body, I wanted to see more. With every flash of her semi-naked and naked body, growing bolder, I wanted to do more to show my sexual feelings for her. I wanted to kiss her and hold her while touching and feeling her everywhere. In the way that I stared at her when I barged in her bedroom and caught her in some manner of undress, she must surely know that I want her and was purposely trying to see all that I could of her. In the way that I looked at her, stared at her, ogled her, and leered at her when I did catch her semi-naked or naked, how could she not know that I wanted her and wanted to see her naked?

Always acting as if I had an emergency and/or something really important to tell her, I opened her bedroom door with the stealth speed of a Seal Team 6 member surprising the terrorist enemy in an assault. If she was standing behind her bedroom door when I opened it with such forceful speed, I'd hit her hard with the door and would probably knock her out cold. Not to be deterred or denied by her being knocked unconscious, I masturbated over the thoughts of my mother being helplessly vulnerable when knocked out cold by her bedroom door. Taking my sexual fantasy a step further, I masturbated over all the things that I'd do to her unconscious body, the least of which would be feeling her through her clothes and peeking up her nightgown at her pussy and down her nightgown at her tits.

Being the despicable son that I am, if she was unconscious and so indisposed, would I dare touch her pussy and feel her tits? Feeling as if it was my incestuous obligation to do so to check her for injuries, while she was out cold, would I dare strip her naked? Would I dare put my cock in her lifeless hand and/or slide my cock slowly across her lips while imagining her taking me in her mouth to suck me? Maybe she'd pretend being knocked out for me to have my wicked way with her naked body. Imagining all of this while masturbating over the thoughts of my unconscious mother, making the most of the opportunity of my mother being knocked unconscious, maybe I'd lubricate her pussy with gel and make love to her unconscious body. She'd never know or would she?

Only, what if she suddenly awakened while I was on top of her while pounding her pussy? How would I explain my making love to her if she awakened when my cock was buried deep inside her pussy? If she suddenly awakened, checking her for injuries would be my excuse to undress her and, as if using my prick as my personal probe, checking her for internal bleeding would be my reason for my cock being inside of her. If she caught me forcing my cock in her unconscious mouth, I could tell her that, unable to find the thermometer, I was just taking her temperature. Knowing none of my excuses would make any sense to her, at the time and in my horny state, they all made sense to me.

If she awakened from her unconsciousness while I was still examining her and/or having sex with her naked body, how would she react to being naked in front of her son? Would she be just as sexually excited that I was seeing her naked as I was to see her naked? Or would she be angry with me for stripping her naked and obviously taking sexual advantage of her when she was injured and helpless. Yet, thinking of all that I'd do to her helpless body if ever I found her unconscious, God forbid my mother was hurt or injured, it's just my incestuous horniness getting in the way of my commonsense. I'd never do any of those things other than to call for an ambulance.

* * * * *

Temporarily tangled up in her long, blonde, lush hair long enough for me to get the best look of her naked, sexy body, my best barging in on her moment was catching her standing by her bed with her nightgown over her face and head. Stuck on her hair clip, her nightgown was caught and it took her an extra few seconds to free herself. I only wished I had my camera with me. Totally naked and unaware that I was standing there staring at her with her bedroom door wide open, even then, it took a few, frozen seconds for her to realize that I was seeing her naked body, her round ass, her firm, C cup breasts, and her blonde, trimmed pussy.

"Wow!"

I masturbated daily, twice a day, for months over that one barging in on her moment when seeing her naked. Maybe she suspected that I'd burst in her room at the most inopportune or most fortunate time and staged her flash to appear accidental in the way that I've staged all of my flaccid cock flashes to appear accidental. Biding my time while waiting for the perfect moment, maybe she was purposely flashing me her naked body in the way that I hoped to intentionally flash her my erection soon. Whether it was accidental or intentional that my mother flasher her naked body, I didn't care. It didn't matter. What mattered more was that I just saw my mother naked. Naked, naked, naked, my mother was naked. I'll be masturbating over her naked body for the rest of my life.

"Charlie! Knock first," she said, which is what she always said while raising some article of clothing to cover her nakedness from me.

She didn't seem angry or embarrassed that I saw her naked. If anything, she seemed serendipitously surprised that I was standing there when she finally removed her nightgown from her face. I so wanted to step closer to her and to help her pull away the nightgown from her face that she now clutched in her hands to deny me from seeing anymore of her naked body. In the way that she halfheartedly scolded me for not respecting her privacy by not knocking, I enjoyed thinking that she was enticing me, teasing me, and daring me to make the next move in crossing the incestuous line. Yet, twisted in my thinking by my incestuous desire for her, did she want me as much as I wanted her? I didn't know. I couldn't tell.

A titillating game we played, unable to control my lust for my mother while continuing to barge in on her more regularly, I never knocked and she never locked her door. If she didn't want me to barge in on her and if she didn't want me to see her naked, I'd think she'd lock her bedroom door. Maybe I was onto something with this suddenly barging in on her unexpectedly while she was dressing and undressing. Maybe because she was my mother, as simple as that, she trusted me to respect her privacy.

Because I was her horny son, I violated her trust with my perverse and uncontrollable need to see her naked. Because I was her son, maybe she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Because she was my mother, maybe she wanted me to see her naked. I didn't know but, until she locked her bedroom door and denied me access to her bedroom while she dressed and undressed, and showed anger at me not respecting her privacy, I was having fun discovering the rules of playing this sexy game of exhibitionism and voyeurism.

Now more hoping than suspecting that my Mom was as perversely twisted as I was by deliberately flashing me while making it appear accidental, over and again I masturbated to all that I saw of her. With my incestuous lust interfering with my commonsense, not thinking straight, maybe she wanted me to barge in on her when she was dressing and undressing. Maybe she wanted to show me her semi-naked and naked body. Maybe she wanted me to see her body as much as I wanted to see her body. Maybe she was hoping that I'd catch her naked. Maybe she was hoping that I'd make the next move after seeing her standing there naked and vulnerable. Maybe she wanted me to walk up to her, hold her, kiss her, touch her, and feel her while she stood there without her clothes as much as I wanted to hold her, kiss her, touch her, and feel her with or without her clothes.

Only, as soon as I entered her room, she'd cover her nakedness with her clothing and scold me. Actually, what else was she supposed to do other than to cover herself and ask me to knock the next time? Surely, if she just stood there stark naked and not made any move to cover her nakedness, in essence giving me the green light to proceed, perhaps, I'd make my move on her by touching her, feeling her, and trying to have sex with her. Yet, getting mixed signals from her, and being that she was my mother and not some slutty, drunken woman that I picked up in a bar, I didn't know what to do. Other than what I've learned from watching incestuous videos of a mother having sex with her son, compared to what was happening between my mother and me, more pornographic in nature than erotic, the seduction that I watched on videos seemed too easy, too fake, and too phony.

"Charlie! Knock first," is what she said and what she always said.

Still, to no avail, as if it was all an incestuous game that we both enjoyed playing, tit for tat, in the way she continued barging in on me, she didn't lock her door and I continued barging in on her again and again. After seeing so much of my mother so very many times, I wanted to do much more than just look. I wanted to touch. I wanted to hold her, kiss her, touch her, feel her, fondle her, and make love to her. Every night while imagining her naked, I imagined making love to her while masturbating. Every day, while imagining her topless, I masturbated over all that I saw of her. In the way that no mother should ever touch her son, I wanted her to touch me in the way that I wanted to feel her.

* * * * *

Unfortunately, just a disturbing sexual fantasy, fearing to take the next step in the progression of seducing my mother, I knew that none of that with me touching, feeling, and making love to my mother would ever happen. I knew it was all just my twisted perversion that I had every night before going to bed and every morning while masturbating over having sex with my mother's naked body. With most sons never lucky enough to see their mothers naked or even seeing so much as their bra strap, if nothing more than fodder for my masturbation, I was lucky to have had dozens of glimpses of her semi-naked and naked body. Whether seeing up skirts of her panties, up nightgowns of her pussy, down blouses of her bra, down nightgowns of her tits, or seeing her in her panties and bra, topless, or naked, I was lucky to have seen as much of her as I've already had. So very much better looking than any of my friends' mothers and possessing a much better body, I was lucky to have a mother who was as hot and as sexy as my mother.

Nonetheless, in conflict to my thinking that nothing would ever come about with us having incestuous sex, I figured that I'd at least get some cheap feels of her as fodder to inspire me to masturbate over all that I saw, touched, and felt of her later. As the next step in my plan to seduce my mother, just before I decided to flash her my erection, I started touching her more, not in a groping and in appropriate way but in a sensual, son with his mother, loving way. Trying to turn her on by lightly touching her and massaging, when touching her and massaging her, I tried my best not to make her feel uncomfortable. I felt her in ways that my light, loving touches, although could be misconstrued one way or the other, were subtly innocent enough that they wouldn't be questioned but appreciated. So long as she didn't recoil, my subtle way of seducing my mother, I'd gradually touch more of her until she either pulled away, embraced me, or touched me too.

I'd lightly and gently touch her hair, her arm, her knee, her back, or her shoulder. I'd hug her while feeling the back of her bra with my fingertips, that is, when she was wearing a bra, or I'd drop my hand down to feel the top of her panty clad ass, that is, when she was wearing panties. When she was wearing nothing but her sexy nightgown without underwear, which was most of the time, upon seeing the emergence of her hard nipples making their appearance known, I was so tempted to feel the sides of her naked breast or cop a cheap feel of her naked ass when hugging her. More than feeling so good in my arms, as if we belonged together as a married man and woman, she felt so right. If only she wasn't my mother, I would have had sex with her by now. If only she wasn't my mother, I would have asked her to marry me.

When her nipples pushed hard against the thin, sheer material of her nightgown, it took all the control that I had not to reach out my hand to finger her nipples through her nightgown, to reach up her short nightgown to cup her pussy, and/or to feel her magnificent ass. Even when I massaged her shoulders, rubbed her back, and massaged her feet, seemingly enjoying me touching her in that sensuous, albeit erotic way, that a attentive son would touch his loving mother, I made her feel relaxed. By showering her with so much attention and affection, I made her feel special. I made her feel loved and wanted by the only man in her life, her son. Hoping to create the need in her to look forward to be so touched, my seemingly innocent touches were all part of my seduction.

Trusting me not to grope her and ogle her, when she closed her eyes, she was so vulnerable. While massaging her feet, wanting her to subtly feel or not so subtly feel my emerging lust for her, I purposely planted her heel on my hardening cock. By lifting her foot higher and more to the side, I slowly spread her knees just enough for me to peer up her short nightie at her pussy without her noticing. Wanting to reciprocate her flashes with mine, seeing her pussy further inspired me to want to flash her my erection soon.

With her eyes closed and her relaxed as I gave her a foot massage and with me sitting on the floor at her feet, I gently lifted her nightgown high enough while massaging her legs to give me a continual view of her blonde, trimmed pussy. Whenever seeing parts of her that a son should never see of his mother, she made me so horny that I always wanted to do more than just look. I wanted to touch and feel her in places that a son should never touch and feel his mother.

"I like that. That feels good Charlie. A little lower please. Yes, right there. Don't stop," she said as if I was an animal from the same family grooming her and, indeed I was an animal from the same family grooming her.

With her resting on her stomach, slowly going lower and lower down her back in the way my hands slowly went higher and higher up her thighs, it wasn't long before she allowed me to raise her nightgown to her waist and massage her perfect buttocks. Grooming her, only I wasn't grooming her to eradicate her body of fleas and ticks in the way that monkeys do to one another. All part of my master plan to seduce my mother, readying her by arousing her libido, I was grooming her for sex by having her getting used to me touching her and feeling her with sensuous massages. The basis for my plan to seduce my mother was by me allowing her to gradually get more comfortable with me innocently touching and feeling her body. Whether I massaged her feet, her calves, her back, or her shoulders, what was seemingly so innocent to her was sexually arousing to me. Eventually, hoping she looked forward to me touching her as much as I looked forward to touching her, I hoped that my touches would sexually arouse her.