Mom's Errant Panties

The conflict I'd seen on her face before I'd left her room was gone.

She seemed calm and her movements seemed deliberate.

There were no glances towards the camera.

There were no hesitations or noticeable second guesses.

She just continued to prepare as though she were simply getting ready to enjoy herself, sans audience. She looked very comfortable and very sexy.

A part of me selfishly wanted her to acknowledge the camera, to acknowledge me.

Another, possibly wiser, part of me wanted to let her keep doing whatever she wanted, however she wanted to do it.

This was her performance and she seemed to want me to also enjoy it, but on her terms, which was fast becoming exactly what I wanted too.

She squeezed out a short little strip of what I assumed was lube, from the clear plastic cylinder she'd pulled from her drawer earlier. She then thumbed the cap closed and tossed the little bottle on the other side of the bed.

Using a single finger, she began coating the toy, preparing it for--

"Sweet lord of Fuck!" I whispered to my monitor.

I was absolutely on fire, sitting on the edge of my chair, my eyes transfixed on every move she was making.

She picked up the towel and wiped her hand clean before leaning onto the bed and setting it near the bottle of lube she'd tossed. The lubricated toy was sat on top of the towel, and she backed off the bed to stand next to it.

Hooking her thumbs in either side of her black panties, she ran them forward to back and then slowly began pushing them down, her round, juicy hump pooching out as she carefully pulled each of her sexy feet through the frilly black undergarment.

She folded her panties neatly and then sat them on the edge of the bed next to the legal pad.

She then turned slightly towards the camera, and I saw that she had a little rectangular strip of pubic hair. It was very short and looked to have been freshly touched-up. All around the neatly trimmed strip, she was shaved clean.

My dick twitched against my stomach at the end of her little half turn, just as the light shone between her legs allowing me to see her mons pubis for the first time. I loved this part of the female anatomy and I marveled at the smooth skin that curved over my mother's pubic bone, dipping in between her legs to become her clitoral hood.

Every part of her was fucking incredible!

She reached both hands behind her back and snagged her bra strap with two fingers, drawing it down to the other hand and disconnecting the clasp. She arched her back and let the bra straps tumble down her outstretched arms as I caught my first glimpse of her breasts.

Her tits were not enormous, and there wasn't any excessive hang to them. What they lacked in size, they more than made up for in shapely, perky perfection, with quarter-sized areolas in the center that were barely a shade darker than the firm breasts around them. She had little nubby nipples that sent shivers through my pelvis and restored moisture to my mouth as I fantasized about getting to play with them.

I couldn't decide what I wanted to do more, squeeze and caress them from behind or suck on them from the front.

Completely naked now, she reached down and pumped another little squirt of lotion into her fingers and then rubbed it between her hands, turning towards the armoire as she began caressing her flat little tummy with the moisturizer.

She hadn't turned to give me a better view of her body, of course. I wasn't even there, and she wasn't doing anything other than pampering herself in private.

At least, that was the thematic tone behind her performance, but in reality--Fucking Christ Bananas! This goddess of a woman was actually turning to give me a better view of her incredible naked body and knowing that was what was actually happening, was thrilling me to a degree that had me buzzing inside.

She slowly worked her way up

to her chest, rubbing... rubbing... and gently coating the underside of each breast. Her clavicles and shoulders were next, followed by each arm and elbow.

I watched in complete, captivated awe as she returned her attention to her breasts, squeezing as she rubbed lotion into them, squishing the supple, springy flesh almost like she was trying to stimulate milk, and then pinching the little buttons in the center, her eyes rolling back as she toyed with them briefly.

I was completely taken with every inch of her.

I wanted to be her hands, or better yet, provide those hands. I wanted to feel her skin against my naked body as I explored her the way she was currently exploring herself.

The little window of light that peaked through her legs, an illuminated triangle below her puffy, smooth labia, kept drawing my eye down. I wanted her so bad it hurt. My mouth was completely dry again and my cock twitched like a metronome in my lap, begging to be rubbed, begging for her.

She crawled up on the bed, bending over on all fours and crawling slower than was probably necessary. She reached out to pluck the little purple sex toy off the towel.

My breathing quickened as she straightened up onto her knees and turned towards the camera, her eyes examining the little purple toy she was holding between thumb and forefinger. Seemingly satisfied by what she saw, she spread her knees apart and I leaned closer to my monitor.

The purple sex toy suddenly slipped from Mom's grip and landed on the comforter.

She giggled and her head went back, her eyes closing as she brought the back of her hand up to her mouth and nibbled at the skin, her abdomen tightening and relaxing rapidly with the laughter as she struggled to reign it in.

It took me several seconds to realize what I'd done, but when I looked at the app on my phone, I saw that the (Quick Pulse) button was currently lit. I'd obviously tapped the button as I was leaning in to get a better look.

I quickly tapped the same button again to deactivate the toy, feeling dumb for jumping the gun.

Mom opened her eyes and the giggles subsided. Her expression became noticeably more focused as she retrieved the toy from the bed.

It was curious how committed she was to the mood of her performance. She seemed to be enjoying herself, but there was a discipline underpinning everything that made it feel strangely significant, almost important.

She positioned her left hand between her legs, parting her labia with two fingers and then she slowly inserted the, now inert, toy.

My eyes had become lasers, shifting back and forth rapidly from watching the toy disappear between her legs and seeing her facial expressions as the toy slid inside.

I think I stopped breathing for a moment, as I suddenly felt light-headed and had to force myself to take a deep breath.

The phone in my hand was connected, albeit wirelessly, to something inside her. It felt a bit juvenile to think about it like that, but my cock certainly appreciated the pervy sentiment, oozing a dollop of precum into my bellybutton as I leaned forward.

She brought her legs together, the toy's little purple goose neck sticking out from under her pubic bone like a skinny snake. Then, she put her hands on her hips and wiggled her pelvis slowly from side to side as if adjusting the device into a more comfortable position.

She relaxed her posture and closed her eyes.

I was pretty sure this was my cue to activate the device, but felt some trepidation as I pressed the button for the lowest setting on my phone's app, labeled: (Gentle Roll)

The reaction was instant and exciting.

I saw her take in a sharp breath and then she closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Her hips began to slowly roll in a circular motion as her abdomen sucked in and out with her long deliberate breaths as her tight little body melted into pleasure.

She could have been dancing to something with a slow tempo with the way she was moving, touching, and petting herself. She was the definition of sultry, her body undulating in slow ripples, her chin rising ever so slightly with each breath.

I wasn't sure how long I was supposed to wait before I upped the intensity. I could only draw on memories of porn, but those were done with the audience's approval in mind. I simply wanted to help her feel as good as possible.

I started to watch the camera's digital counter in the bottom right-hand corner, thinking I would time the adjustments to avoid rushing or overstimulating her, but I abandoned that as I realized that her hands were telling me everything I needed to know.

She was caressing and loving her body like I wanted to, rubbing and squeezing all the smooth curves and exciting, fleshy textures. She toyed with her clit as her fingers glided by, massaging her little hood briefly but then she was moving on, rubbing her thighs and hips, petting her ass, caressing her core from front to back and then working up to massage her breasts and pinch the nipples. She rolled her head from side to side as she petted her neck and jaw lovingly, her lips parting as she brushed her fingers over her mouth, taking her index and middle fingers inside and wetting them before dropping the hands back to her clit and starting the whole process over.

Once I understood the pattern, I felt like I could anticipate when she needed more intensity. I waited through the next full circuit of selflove and when her fingers touched her clit, I tapped the next level in the app, labeled: (Melt)

It seemed to startle her and for a moment I thought I'd jumped the gun again, but then the corner of her mouth ticked up and she leaned into the faster rhythm, her hips and shoulders now rolling with the more intense pace, giving her long, lean torso a snake-like quality.

I couldn't open my eyes wide enough.

Her facial expressions were everything.

I was only seeing the beautiful woman on the bed, now. Who she was in relation to who I was had fallen out of the boat miles back and I was in no hurry to dredge the depths looking for it.

I was absolutely in love with every bit of her body, the way she moved it, the sounds she was making and her stunningly gorgeous face communicating every delight she was feeling.

The idea that she knew I was doing this to her, that I was giving her this pleasure in a remote, yet tangible way, was my favorite thing that had ever happened.

I could have watched her like that for hours, but I sensed a lull in her experience after a couple minutes, and I felt compelled to press the next button in the sequence, labeled: (Rolling Thunder)

I saw her lunge forward immediately after her fingers began to rub the soft skin under her pubic bone. She caught herself on one arm as her back arched high in the air.

"Ngy-uhhHHH!" she groaned into my headphones.

I noticed my face had slowly crept closer to my computer monitor again, and I forced myself to sit back, relieving the strain and pressure my abdomen had been subjecting my erection to.

The sudden shifting pressure as I watched her body writhing in extasy, caused my dick to spit a small jet of fluid onto my stomach and for a moment I thought I was going to fully release, but I squeezed every muscle I had, called in every favor my dick did or didn't owe me, and the growing surge simmered temporarily.

She laid back, putting her head on her pillow and her feet flat on the comforter with her knees together.

Then, as if hearing my inner monologue, she spread her knees apart and opened her legs wide.

Her fat pussy lips were squeezed around the purple little snake. Everything was wet; pussy, ass, and thighs were all similarly slick with her moisture. My fantasy of fitting the entirety of her soft little mound into my mouth resurfaced in my mind as I stared at her juicy little peach for the second time.

As her hips bucked up and down in tiny little spasms, her right hand swung out and began feeling around until it fell on the handle of the larger, white massager I'd inspected for hidden stashes. She thumbed it on as she brought the end of the wand into contact with her clitoris, her hips instantly popping up and her butt coming off the bed in response.

"Oh fuck, Marcus! Fuck me! Oh God!" she cried, and it took me five full seconds to understand who she was talking about. I thought she might have named her vibrator but then I felt stupid as I realized she was shouting Dad's name.

Something shifted in the back of my mind, then... something unexpected, yet somehow logical and potentially important.

But it wasn't important enough to ruin how much I was loving everything happening on my monitor. Whatever implications could be attached to her crying out my dead father's name, would have to wait.

I returned to the moment, in love with the way she looked, her body rolling with pleasure. The half-choked moans and gasps were a symphony of sex in my headphones as I resumed worshiping her.

I checked the app for a higher setting. There was one, but it wasn't time yet.

I watched her writhing on the bed, her feet scrambling against the slick comforter as her body shook. Her screams were unbridled passion, her face, pure extasy.

I took the left side of my headphones off my left ear, wanting to test a suspicion, and I smirked as I realized I could hear her through the vent a half-second before I heard the same sound through my headphones.

I chuckled excitedly as I read the name of the last, most intense, button. I hovered my thumb over it, my lust boiling to a new pinnacle as I absorbed every pixel on my monitor.

Someone involved in the development of

this app obviously had a good sense of humor. I would have chuckled if not for the unprecedented state of arousal I was experiencing.

I refused to blink, watching my mother's rapturous moment, imagining what her squirming body would feel like if I were holding her to me, kissing and thrusting into her as she writhed in my arms.

I pressed the button and whispered the ridiculous silly name written on it, saying, "(Ludicrous Speed) Now!"

"Unghuhuh-oh-oh fuck!" she sang her beautiful, orgasmic song into my headphones.

Her pelvis pressed down hard into the bed, up slightly, then down hard again, and finally high above the bed, her shoulders and feet supporting her arching body as a single stream of liquid squirted from underneath the massager's vibrating head.

Orgasmic piss, or magical lady-cum, I won't debate which here, but it was absolutely beautiful either way. It arced through the air hard, then became a short dribble that ran down between her ass cheeks onto the comforter.

The initial jet of liquid had landed near the end of the bed, leaving a little pattern of drops on the legal pad that was balancing precariously off the edge, likely jostled there by Mom's excited thrashing.

Her back dropped to the bed and her feet slid forward, her legs straightening out and quivering as she gritted her teeth and made a fist with her free hand.

I dropped my phone and grabbed my cock while my eyes locked onto her beautiful, climaxing face, finding the precum and premature shot I'd fired more than enough lubricant to pump three full strokes before my ass cheeks clenched and I launched a surprising amount of seminal fluid onto my desk, chair and balls.

As I came, I struggled to keep my eyes open, the waves of pleasure were so intense it became a chore to continue watching her, but I didn't want to miss a second of the performance she was putting on for me. I drank in every sexy little jolt and shimmy her body made, loving every moan of pleasure I'd helped her achieve.

Then, as my orgasm fizzled into the pre-self-loathing phase I was accustomed to experiencing, hers kept going... and going... until she finally tossed the personal massager aside and went to remove the G-spot stimulator still inside her.

Her initial effort to withdraw the toy failed, her fingers slipping off the coated silicon handle. Her struggle to remove the still 'ludicrously speeding' toy became noticeably more desperate then, her wavering moans becoming something like panicked squeals as her vagina's grip held the toy in place against her slippery fingers trying to liberate it.

I pressed the button comically marked (Emergency Stop!) in the app.

Mom instantly collapsed onto the bed, limbs falling where they were, and her body puddling into a heap of low guttural moans and subtle tremors.

I heard her giggle as she brought the back of her hand up to her mouth and bit it lightly, then she dropped it to her side and began fishing around until she found the towel, flipping it over her hand so she could use it to reach between her legs and prize the toy from her pussy.

A few deep breaths later, she brought her knees together and rolled her hips side to side several times.

More giggles followed.

I felt regret and miserable condemnation floating around the surface of my mood, it carried heavy words like incest and abomination in its substrate. It would land on me, I knew it would, but for the moment, I just watched the screen in a state of total awe, smiling from ear to ear and wishing it really were as simple as it felt right then.

She was a beautiful woman. I was an adoring young man. We were both happy and satiated by what had just happened. I would hold the beautiful simplicity of that thought high above the muck rising quickly around me for as long as I could.

It had been sexy. It had been naughty. It had also been the most enjoyable moment of my life, and I was fast falling in love with it.

The questions were there, trying to disrupt my mood with their implied weight: What would it be like between us going forward? Would we ever do anything like this again? Was this as far as it would go? Was I taking advantage of her in some way?

I felt annoyed with the implied need to answer those questions. They seemed to diminish how special this had been, and I didn't want them to exist, let alone bother me with their possible consequences.

I saw her eyes open, and I watched her as she looked around the room. She had a smile on her face that was almost bubbly, and it stayed there as she sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed.

She pushed herself forward, scooping up her robe as she stood, giving me one last look at her amazing, slightly damp, caboose before she exited the frame.

I disabled the camera and immediately moved the file to an encrypted, two-factor protected folder, promising myself I would not watch it unless she told me I could.

I named the file: Perfection

In hindsight, I should have named it: Orientation

** 5 /**

I didn't see Mom the following morning; she'd gone to work by the time I made my first cup of coffee, but she did leave a note on the kitchen island.

Greg,

I don't know where to start... I think I'm supposed to apologize and tell you how sorry I am for crossing the line. I woke up this morning expecting to feel crushing regret, but I didn't! So, I guess I'm apologizing for not feeling sorry. I can't tell you how much I liked knowing you were watching... I'm probably going to hell, but... Thank you!

Love,

Lacy

I was more than a little relieved to read that she'd not gone into a remorseful tailspin, and I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't been expecting it. I wasn't a hundred percent certain how I felt about it.

I also wasn't sure what to make of the way she'd signed her note. I was pretty sure it had been a thoughtful, calculated decision, and that it had meaning. It might have been more about her than me, but I couldn't help thinking that she was trying to tell me something--something she either hadn't, couldn't, or wouldn't articulate.

Was I supposed to infer something from it? If I was, and I was doing the math correctly, it had something to do with her, me, and how she was still trying to move on from my father's untimely passing.