Naughty Jeri

It was near midnight when Jeri jerked awake from a fitful sleep. She sat up in bed, wired. Her neck and face were flushed. Her nightgown was damp with sweat. At nearly fifty years old hot flashes were not uncommon for her, but she knew this wasn't a hot flash. Her nipples were so hard they ached and she could smell her own musky arousal. The details of the dream had already retreated, leaving her with just the impression that it was intensely erotic.

She laid back again, gathering the front of her nightgown over her hips. She slipped her hand under the waistband of her panties and felt the sticky wetness soaking her pubic hair. Her manicured finger brushed her swollen clit and sent a shockwave of pleasure through her. She slid her hand even lower, making sure to maintain pressure on her clit and stroked through her labia, coating her fingers in pussy juice.

Her other hand slid over her nightgown, across the swell of her smallish breasts. She found her sensitive nipple distended with arousal. She pinched and twisted the nipple hard. The pain amplified the pleasure of two slick fingers penetrating her.

Her mind wandered to memories of her husband, Peter. Her back arched as an electric tingle traveled from her breasts down her spine and into her pussy. She Imagined he was with her again. They were his fingers pulling and twisting, bringing her to inexorable release while he drove his other fingers into her. She could hear him whispering encouragement, telling her how much he wanted her to cum.

Beads of sweat formed on her face and neck. She pulled her fingers out long enough to peel off the cotton panties and fling them to the other side of her king bed. She bent her knee up and swung her hip out for a better angle to finger fuck herself deeper and harder.

She struggled to keep her moans of pleasure muted as her fingertips groped for the sensitive skin of her g-spot. Even in the throes of passion, she was aware of Dale in the next room. The shame she felt at the idea of her son hearing his mother get herself off intensified the sensations her fingers created.

The room filled with squishing noises as she mauled herself, desperately reaching for the crest of her orgasm. One hand flew in and out of her pussy while the other switched between her breasts to pinch, pull, and twist her nipples. She was nearly there. The wet smacking sound of her fingers driving her to completion were joined by full throated moans of passion. Thoughts of trying to hide what she was doing from her son were replaced by thoughts of what he would do if he was listening.

She imagined Dale laying naked on his bed in the next room. He was stroking his long, hard cock as the sound of his wanton mother's frantic rush to pleasure penetrated the shared wall. The voice whispering encouragement had become the moans of her son, begging her to cum with him. Visualizing her son's eruption made her entire body clench as her fingers drove deep into her grasping pussy one final time. The hand on her breast spasmed, squeezing harder than she thought possible. She saw spots. A long, breathless "FUCK!" escaped her lips as her orgasm pulled her down into oblivion.

She had no idea how long she was out when she came back to reality. She was still breathing heavily but her body completely relaxed into the bed. The hand that fucked her was limp between her legs, moist fingers slipped free of her pussy's orgasmic grip. Her breast was sore from the spasms of her other hand. She laid in bed, luxuriating in satiation. It may not have been the most intense orgasm she ever experienced, but it was glorious. She chose not to dwell on why the orgasm was so powerful.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand. It was nearly one in the morning. She was no longer wired but still not tired. She needed a drink of water. She swung her legs out of bed and her toes found the fuzzy interior of her slippers. She stood up and straightened her nightgown.

She left her room and headed down the hallway, taking care not to make noise in case Dale was asleep. She saw a sliver of dim light cut across the hallway from her son's bedroom. As she got closer, she could hear him talking. His door was open a couple of inches. She thought of sticking her head in to check on him, but something made her stop and listen.

Through the gap between the door and frame, she could see that Dale was in bed covered by his bedsheet. His tablet was propped on his stomach, bathing his face and bare chest in soft light. He was talking to someone, but his earbuds were in so she couldn't hear who was on the other side of the connection.

"Do you have any idea how awkward that is?" Dale asked. "Hey mom, it's been a year since dad passed, maybe you should start putting yourself out there. See if you can score some d." Jeri felt slightly embarrassed that Dale was talking to someone about her sex life, or rather her lack of.

"Besides, I seriously doubt she wants to hear that from her son," Dale said, "Maybe you should come out for a few days. I'm sure she'll be more receptive if she hears it from her favorite child."

"Is he talking to Lily?" Jeri thought. The favorite child thing was an old joke between her children. It was unusual for Dale to be up this late when he had work in the morning. Her daughter was doing her residency at a hospital in the midwest. "She's very busy, so maybe this is the only time they could talk," she mused.

"That's too bad. She finally started coming out of her funk. Now she just seems super annoyed all of the time," Dale said.

"Do I?" Jeri thought. It took months of therapy and a course of mood stabilizers to pull out of the depression after her husband passed away and having to sell her house to settle the medical bills. She had been living with Dale ever since. She made a mental note to pay more attention to her attitude around Dale. He deserved better than that for taking care of her through her recovery.

Dale said, "Maybe you're right and she just needs to get laid. You'd think she'd wear herself out with all of the masturbating."

"Oh god!" Jeri brought her hand up to her mouth. She was mortified that her son knew what she was doing nearly every night when she went to bed. Her nostrils flared as she realized it was the hand she had just used to pleasure herself. She hoped he had been using his earbuds and didn't hear what she had done.

"Sometimes." Dale said, "It's a turn-on when a hot woman plays with herself. Even if it is my mother."

Jeri remembered the thought that finished her off a few minutes ago. Was her imagination that close to reality? She couldn't hear what her daughter was saying, but her mind filled in the blanks. Was he really pleasuring himself while listening to his own mother? Another thought struck her, "This is a strange conversation to have with his sister."

"Says the woman who's having FaceTime sex with her brother," Dale said.

Jeri stood at Dale's bedroom door, stunned. When she regained her senses, he had flipped the sheet away from his body and his arm was moving rhythmically. She couldn't see what he was doing. Not without opening the door another couple of inches. His casual reference to her masturbation was mortifying to one part of her. Another part, the part that just brought her to a thundering climax thinking of her son jerking himself off, responded with arousal. The warmth starting to radiate from between her legs said which part was currently in charge of her body.

She stood there for another thirty seconds. Her son was having webcam sex with her daughter, his sister. An argument raged inside her, debating whether she should try to see more. Naughty Jeri reasoned that whatever Lily was doing had Dale's full attention. He would never know that his mother watched while he pleasured himself. The other part, Good Jeri, argued she should go back to her room and figure out what to do. Good mothers don't watch their children do these kinds of things. Naughty Jeri fired back that good mothers don't have children who watched each other masturbate over webcams.

Ultimately Naughty Jeri overpowered Good Jeri by imagining what her son's hand was doing. The heat between her legs grew more intense and she could feel her pussy lubricating again. She put her hand gently against the door and hesitated. She felt a pang of guilt about invading his privacy, but her arousal made her slowly push.

The door had barely moved when the hinges creaked. She yanked her hand back. To her mind it was as loud as the front row of the hair band shows she went to in high school. She watched Dale carefully while she calmed down. The movement of his arm never changed and his attention never left the tablet's screen. Satisfied that he did not notice, she put her hand against the door again and pushed. She cringed when the hinges complained again but continued. She opened the door and more of Dale's body came into view.

She was transfixed by the sight. She couldn't tell how long her son's erect cock was. She never had an eye for that. She could tell that it was roughly twice the size of his hand and glistening with lube in the ambient light. The wet sound of his hand pumping up and down was thunderous to her ears.

Dale's attention was on the tablet, "You're tits look so hot, sis. Pinch your nipples just like that." His finished each up stroke with a twist along the head. Peter loved it when she did that to him. Without realizing it, Jeri's hand moved between her legs and started massaging her clit through the nightgown.

"You make me so fucking hard, Lily. Do you want to see me stroke it?" Dale asked. With his free hand, he tapped the screen with his thumb to flip the tablet's camera. Jeri felt a stab of pleasure when she realized Dale was now showing his cock off to his sister.

"That's it, baby. Lick your fingers," Dale said to the screen. Jeri imagined her daughter pulling a finger out of her pussy and cleaning the juices off with her tongue. She thought of Dale taking her finger and slowly licking it clean. She wondered if he had ever tasted his sister. Jeri's mind was flooded with images of Lily laying naked on Dale's bed. Her brother's face was buried between her legs, licking her juicy pussy lips. Jeri exhaled, keeping herself from moaning at the last possible moment.

"It feels better when you do it," Dale said. Jeri wondered if this was an inadvertent confession or just part of some shared fantasy between her children. For the first time, Jeri realized her nightgown was pulled up. Her middle finger traced circles around her clit occasionally dipping between her labia for more lube.

Jeri had lost track of time while she watched her son. Her imagination was going a mile a minute, fantasizing about the sex that Dale and Lily were having. She was brought back to reality when Dale said, "Oh god, Lily! Just like that, sis. Fuck yourself like it was my cock!" His hand was now a blur on his cock. Jeri pictured her son mounting his sister from behind, his cock wedged into Lily's young pussy. The thought of Dale driving his long cock in and out of his sister made Jeri's knees go weak as she put more pressure on her clit.

"Oh fuck! I'm cumming!" Dale groaned.

Jeri came for the third time that night watching her son erupt sticky gobs of cum straight into the air. She felt lightheaded and leaned against the frame of her son's bedroom door. She took a deep breath and turned back to her own bedroom door. She didn't want Dale to catch her if he went to the bathroom to clean up.

She gently pulled her door shut, making sure to hold the knob so the latch wouldn't click as it closed. Safely in her room, she pressed her forehead against the closed door. She stood there breathing heavily. She heard Dale pad down the hallway toward the bathroom and return a couple of minutes later.

She wondered what was going on with her. She had one of the most intense orgasms of her life thinking about her son masturbating. Then she reacted to the revelation of her children having sex by rubbing herself off while she watched.

Dale wasn't wrong. She hadn't been laid since his father was diagnosed over two years ago. The treatment made it impossible for Peter. The stress of caring for him made it impossible for her. Until a few weeks ago, she didn't have so much as a wet dream. Now she was masturbating to fantasies of her own flesh and blood.

She sat on her bed, phone in hand. She tapped out an email to her therapist, Julia. She knew she should talk to someone about it, but she was worried about the trouble it could cause her family. She tapped the delete button and put her phone down. She laid down, closed her eyes, and tried not to think about what had happened. Sleep did not come quickly, but it did come.