Moms Need Sex, Too

*Note* - There are multiple instances of bold text, as well as italics I would like to maintain if it isn't too much trouble. Thank you!

Thursday - 1:48 AM

Seven years. She couldn't believe it, but the math added up. It had been seven years since another person had touched her. Sexually, anyway. Seven years since she lost her husband, and her son lost his father. The tension had been building for most of it, especially since we're bombarded by sex in everything we see, read, and hear. Maybe tension wasn't the right word. It felt more like starvation. Sexual starvation.

Joanne Kiddish slipped her right hand under the waist band of her purple cotton underwear, working her fingers through the jungle she had neglected between her legs. She looked at the clock on her nightstand beside the table lamp emitting a dim, orange glow and sighed. Hopefully, sexual release was all she would need to get at least a few hours sleep.

The tip of her middle finger grazed her sensitive area. Electricity shot through each of her nerve endings, causing her back to arch as she fought to keep the squeals inside. She was slick, the intersection between her legs coated in her sensual juices. As her muscles relaxed, she applied more pressure, rubbing in a circular motion with her middle and ring fingers together. She panted and writhed on the bed, trying desperately not to be heard as her fingers stimulated her pleasure center.

She could hear him in the next room, though. Again. Either he didn't realize, or he didn't care; she wasn't sure which. He panted and grunted, the headboard lightly knocking against the wall. She wondered what he was watching, what he was getting himself off to. Was it lesbians? She could get into that. Two beautiful women trading orgasms in creative ways? Yes, please! At least women knew how to get each other off.

The thought of two beautiful women in coitus, their legs wrapped around one another, grinding their engorged flowers together, ugh! She pulled her panties off with her free hand as she sat up, fingers making their way inside. She contorted herself at just the right angle to hit her G-spot and couldn't contain a deep, loud, quick moan of pleasure escaping her lips.

Maybe he was watching cum-shot videos. Oh, how she missed semen. She loved everything about it. She reveled in the taste, the warmth, the texture. She loved the way thick gooey puddles of it felt on her triple-D breasts; warm and sticky as it clung to her pale flesh. The gooier the better. She knew she was being too loud now, yelping with each pant but unable to contain it. The thoughts of hot, sticky jizz pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

Her fingers dug in, their motions becoming almost violent, rapidly pounding away inside her own body as she began to tense, every muscle and every tendon pulling as hard as they could while she exploded. She squealed as her juices splattered the inside of her panties, panting and screeching as her orgasm reached a fever pitch.

She collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily, unable to see straight. Her undersized spaghetti-strap tank top was askew, breasts fully exposed, belly bulge sticking out of the bottom. She didn't even care until she looked to her right and saw him. Her 19-year-old son frozen in the doorway, staring at her.

Ugh. Steven. He must have come to check on her. She was trying to be quiet. She rarely ever had orgasms, but when she did, it was epic. She just couldn't bring herself to do it five times a day like him.

"Do you need something, baby?" she asked, still out of breath.

"Uh..."

Why bother covering up? He'd already seen her in all her glory, and besides that, she was exhausted. He could ask what he wanted to ask and go on about his business with her titties flopping in the breeze, ginger pubes slowly drying in the fresh air; exposed and half asleep, she lacked the energy to care. He should have knocked if he didn't want to see his mother naked.

She stretched and closed her eyes.

When Joshua, her husband, left them behind, she and Steven went through a period of serious trauma bonding. She knew they were closer than normal as a result, and somehow, subconsciously, Steven had taken his father's place to a small degree.

"Steven, it's late. What do you need?"

"Well, I was... I thought you were dying..." he trailed off.

"Oh. Baby, neither of us is that lucky. You saw what I was doing. I'm fine... more or less. Now, is there anything else you need, or are you just enjoying the view?"

"Uh... I guess that's all."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was staring at her nakedness, stunned. She figured he was disgusted by how much she had let herself go. She just had to buy new jeans, for Bob's sake. Size 18! Her triple-D's were barely fitting into their bra cups anymore but she couldn't find the right size anywhere. Stupid cake. There was always cake at the office. As if it wasn't bad enough everyone just sat there staring at computer screens all day, but they had to give them cake, too? Someone upstairs in the big offices must have really had a thing for fat, middle-aged women. Well, everyone had their fetish.

"Look, baby, if there's nothing else, then good night," she said with a sigh.

"OK."

She stretched out her muscles, allowing her body to properly sink into the mattress. She felt so relaxed and comfortable, she didn't even bother to fix her top and just let her exposed breasts bounce and sway however they liked.

She could feel her son standing in the doorway for another few minutes before she heard his footsteps carry him back to his own room. Within minutes, she could hear him again. She wondered how anyone could jerk off that much.

#

It was a legitimate struggle to turn away from her and go back to his own room. Steven was powerless against the allure of his own curvaceous, delicious, and so obviously needy mother. He had everything she needed but lacked the courage to give it to her. She would never be receptive to his advances. She was his mother.

Instead, it would be his own hand milking that thick, erotic fluid from his body. That was good enough, though. For now. Even though he desperately wished to see it splatter on her rather than himself.

His pulsating erection was just waiting for him when he slid the elastic band of his gym shorts partway down his thighs. As he took himself in his own firm grip, he considered how things in her bedroom could have been different. No, how they should have been different.

If he'd had any balls at all, he would have marched right up to that bed while she was squealing in pleasure, dropped his shorts, confidently laid her down, and climbed on top. He would have looked deep into her eyes, leaned forward, and given her the most loving, most passionate kiss she'd ever experienced. And of course, she would lean toward him, accept his mouth and his body, widening her legs as she pulled him deep into herself.

He could almost feel his mothers' vulva separating to accommodate his manhood. A salivating flower starving for him, eagerly gobbling up every inch. The moisture would ease the entry while the narrow walls of her canal would squeeze, almost hugging, loving his penis the way only a mother could. In his mind, her warm, moist love tunnel consumed him.

Her soft, curvy form would be the sexiest thing he'd ever seen as he sat up on his knees and stimulated her clitoris with his thumb while he gently rocked back and forth, pushing himself deeper into her, then pulling himself back again in a consistent, fluid motion. Her full, generous breasts would tantalize as they splayed out across her rib cage, jiggling and bouncing as she moved her body to match his rhythm. Her nipples, two pink harpoons jutting out into the night would be his to enjoy with his mouth.

His mind wandered downward, toward the delectable hills and valleys of her mid-section. She had gained some weight, and damned if it didn't look great on her. He longed to be between those thick thighs, squeezing her creamy hips as she slammed himself in her, causing everything she had to bounce and squish. He could tell she hated it, but he was as drawn to the jiggling mass around her waist line as he was to her breasts; perhaps even more. He imagined pulling out of her and splashing his creamy white fluids all over the squeezable belly bulge just above her wonderfully wild pubic forest.

That thought pushed him over the edge. His body tensed, pulling him forward as the pressure mounted deep in his loins, finally giving way to an explosion of cum. Satisfying white spurts shot up into the air as he continued pounding away at himself, mind rapt with images of his mother's overweight body and impressive breasts bouncing and squishing as he shot rope after rope of his hot fluids all over her perfect body.

Thursday - 8:22 AM

Joanne was flustered, rifling through her drawers right next to the laundry basket, which was piled three feet high.

"Of course I have nothing to wear," she sighed.

Her underwear drawer was nearly bare. It was down to the stuff she couldn't be bothered to throw away, but hadn't worn in too long to remember. She grabbed a pair of lacy, dark red panties and reasoned it was better than going without, even though she hated wearing them. In the bedroom, sure, they're sexy and fun for an hour, but all day in the office? Not so much.

She knew her bush and the lace of her panties would be uncomfortable enemies for the next twelve hours, but she just didn't have time to do any landscaping. With a defeated sigh, she pulled her panties up under her skirt and fought to adjust them comfortably around the jungle on her crotch and creases under her buttocks which seem to have moved since the last time she had worn "sexy" undies. Full coverage was not an option today, she mused.

She threw her thick, red mane up into a messy bun as she passed by Steven's room on her way to the bathroom. She had to stop, back up, and do a double take. Was he aware his door was open? He was seated in front of his computer, stimulating himself while an overweight ginger lady on the computer screen was showered in sticky, white fluid from a myriad of men in all directions. A cornucopia of cum, she thought.

She felt a tingle as she took in the video, imagining the warmth and gooey-ness of it all. She ached inside as a damp residue emerged between her legs. Her heart rate intensified as her breath struggled to catch up. Steven suddenly grunted, leaning forward and groaning as thick ropes of semen blasted into his free hand. She came back to herself, hastily fleeing the scene.

The car rumbled to life in the garage. She couldn't believe what she had just done. Lost in her own lascivious reverie, she accidentally witnessed her son's ejaculation. Was she that needy? Was she so thirsty for stimulation that a few seconds of pornography could snatch her away into a tumultuous brain fog of sexual ecstasy, riveting her feet to the floor despite the situation?

She wondered what he did with it. She never found a crusty sock or T-shirt in his laundry. She knew what she would do with a handful of thick man nectar. Not his, of course! Just in general. She was feeling disoriented... confused. She was deeply aroused from the video and the thoughts that it triggered, but now his presence was all mixed up with it.

There was a slightly cool sensation between her labia as her own personal lubricant emanated from within. Even the smallest movements, each and every fidget, was euphoric as her own vulva squished and stimulated her swollen clitoris. She kept thinking about taking a man's climax in her mouth, imagined feeling it spill over her lip, down her chin, and onto her breasts as her overly sensitive genitalia began to trickle beneath her skirt. Of course her son would inherit her cum fetish.

Her fingers pressed hard against her genitals, stimulating through her panties. Twice in one day. She really must be thirsty for a hard screw. She squealed and thrusted her hips as she climaxed, tightening her muscles and gritting her teeth against the euphoric burst of full-body pleasure. She sat back in the idling car, catching her breath. Her fingers were moist. She had soaked through her panties.

She reached into the glove compartment for a wad of napkins which she used to hastily wipe up as much as she could. She didn't have time to change. Wasting ten minutes in the garage masturbating wasn't part of a normal morning routine. She took a deep breath and held it. A moment later, she allowed it to flow outward, feeling her lungs deflate, the air blowing past her lips and taking the tension in her shoulders with it.

Now, she was ready for work.

#

It was her turn, he decided. Steven had watched his mother masturbate, and now she was going to watch him. He enjoyed a pornographic video of a woman who looked just enough like his mother to get the job done. He held his erection in his hand, stroking while watching this sexy Joanne look-alike happily accept veritable truckloads of jizz.

He knew the door was open, but glanced back to make sure it still was, eagerly anticipating the moment she would catch him. In the distance, her bedroom door opened, then closed hard. She was in a hurry, must be running late again. Her footsteps hurried in his direction. His body tingled, electric magic making its way up his manhood. He stroked harder.

Her footsteps passed by the door, stopped, and lightly backtracked. His mother was watching him masturbate. She wasn't leaving.

She should come into the room. She should take his hand, lead him to the bed, and climb on top. She should ride him until he exploded in her.

His dick jumped in his hand, causing him to grunt as his body seized in extreme pleasure just as he shot out his first strips of cum. He hoped his mother was impressed. He wanted this. He wanted her to see. It just kept coming, rope after rope, quickly filling up his hand. He wished it was her mouth, or her pussy, or maybe even her breasts. He didn't care where, really, just as long as she was involved.

Thursday - 6:41 PM

As she pulled into the driveway and up to the garage, her mind returned to what had happened that morning. Seeing the video. Watching her son cum. She was aroused and confused all at once. She was sure it was the video that got her juices flowing. The splattering on the screen. Not the mess he made watching it. Why couldn't he have closed the door?

She knew she should have been more disturbed, but guessed it was just due to the closeness of their relationship. It was just the two of them, and they had always been very honest and transparent about everything. Besides, sex and sexual behavior was a normal human function. Maybe it was everyone else who made too big a deal of it all. Either way, she needed these panties off. The lace had tugged at her pubic hair all day long and they were slightly crusty from her inappropriate behavior in the car before work. Overall, they were very uncomfortable.

She tossed her dirty clothes from the day on top of the overgrown pile and stood looking at her nakedness in the full-body mirror in the corner. She always felt that she had nice breasts, and that hadn't changed. Maybe they actually looked better now. They were fuller and rounder. The rest of her body though, she hated. She was bulging in places she didn't think she should be. Her thighs rubbed together. Her butt felt like a water bed with every step. No wonder she hadn't had sex in seven years.

She stepped closer to inspect her face with its light wrinkling, crows feet, laugh lines, and the freckles she never really liked. A red-headed Irish-woman. Of course she had freckles. She had freckles just about everywhere. They were down her shoulders, back, arms, a little on her hands, they extended halfway down her chest, and even had sparse freckles on her legs. She had always been told they were cute, or on rare occasions, sexy, but she disagreed. She also noticed the bags under her eyes seemed to be growing more prominent. She sighed at her own reflection. Aging. The most un-sexy thing a woman could do, as far as she was concerned.

She heard Steven's footsteps coming toward her room and wrapped herself in a terry cloth robe. That's when it dawned on her: knocking had never really been a habit in their house.

A moment later, the bedroom door swung open revealing her son.

"Mom, hi," he said, then just stared at her.

"Hey, baby, what's up?"

"Oh... I... Laundry. I'm out of clean stuff. I was going to wash some and thought you might need some, too."

"Oh, you're awesome! Thank you!"

He stared at her for a moment.

"Steven. It's over there next to the dresser, where it always is."

"Yes! I see it. I'll grab it. Now. Yeah."

She closed the door behind him as he carted off her mountain of laundry. He was definitely acting strangely. She felt guilty, concerned that he must have been traumatized by walking in on her before. Familial bond aside, who wants to walk in on a fat, middle-aged woman two knuckles deep in her own pudendum? And the position she was in! She must have looked like a sad dog crouched by a fire hydrant.

Her robe was open, not doing a great job of concealing her nudity, and she wasn't totally sure she was trying that hard. She hadn't even bothered to tie it. Maybe part of her wanted him to see. Maybe she wanted anyone to see, even if it meant showing them against their will. Maybe she should walk into a crowded restaurant and fling open her robe, shouting, "look at my tits!" As if anyone would actually want to see. She was a woman and she had needs, damn it! Now, "look at my tits!"

As she lay back on her bed, naked body on full display, she could faintly hear the telltale panting, knocking, and grunting sounds. He also had needs, but lucky for him it seemed his hand was enough.

#

As Steven carried away his mother's pile of dirty laundry, his erection rubbed itself against the cloth of his shorts, creating an odd sensation of pleasure as he tried to walk. She was naked! Again! Sure, she had on her robe, but it wasn't closed. The inner curvature of her breasts was on full display above her sweet, bulging belly. Her entire bush was visible just beneath that incredibly delicious belly pooch he loved so much. His dick was actually beginning to hurt as he reached the bottom of the stairs with the mountain of clothing.

He dropped the pile on the floor beside the washing machine and stared in awe. On top of the pile was the sexiest pair of lace underwear he'd ever seen. He reach out toward it, his fingers barely grazing the panties before finally wrapping around them and lifting them off the pile. He brought them up to his nose and gave them a cautious sniff. His eyes widened. He could actually smell her fluids. The laundry could wait. He had to bury this treasure immediately!

Friday - 8:37 PM

Joanne hated these stupid work conferences. It threw off her whole routine and she had to rub elbows with a bunch of morons who didn't even know what they did for a living. What exactly did they do for a living? What was her job? She just typed information into forms on the computer all day. Why did she need to put the information from the paper forms into the computer forms? Couldn't they just skip the paper forms and put it directly into the computer? She guessed she wouldn't have a job if that were the case, though. She managed an entire department of people who were doing it. $150K a year for that. Granted, she had two college degrees that definitely inflated her salary, but it still seemed absurd.