The First Time

She made me feel like masturbation was the worst thing a human could do, and after remembering how that went down, I wanted to see what she was going to do if I were to walk in on her more than ever. Storming in the second she was going to start having her orgasm seemed to be the perfect moment to make an entrance.

I just had to wait because she wasn't there yet, and a few seconds later she screamed, "Yes!" then, "Oh!" and quickly after that came, "Yes! Oh yes—oh my God!" After that she just screamed and screamed, letting herself go as she thought she was alone in the house. I took that as my cue to storm inside because I doubted if she was going to stop screaming at that point.

"Mom—is everything o—" I dropped my jaw intentionally, pretending to be genuinely shocked by what was in front of me. She let out one more scream, and after that she did her best not to do that again. But the vibrator stayed inside of her cunt until the orgasm stopped making her thighs shudder.

While she waited for that to happen, I took a good scan of her pussy and the rest of her naked body up close, planning to use the image when I was going to masturbate after leaving her bedroom. She had a really beautiful pussy, and the way it was glistening with her juices made me want to kneel down and start lapping away at it while my hands mauled her big tits.

I would've loved to see how far that train of thought could've gone, but it couldn't get any farther than that because the confrontation about my storming in was about to come since her orgasm seemed to have just ceased. She sat up in a flash, keeping me from seeing her nipples for another second because she quickly covered her boobs with her forearm. Just after she pulled out the soaked vibrator from her cunt, she crossed her legs to keep me from seeing the muffin, too. But that was a late reaction because in the few seconds her orgasm kept her from doing that, my mind had already registered a lasting image of her bald piece of heaven.

"What are you doing here? Can't you see that I'm naked? Get out!" she screamed, trying to frighten me with the tone of her voice.

We were even. She found her panties with my cum on them, and I'd just walked in on her wildly doing the same thing she spent more than half an hour making me feel bad about. There was no reason to be scared at her angry voice that morning. I kept staring at her, taunting her with a judgemental look while I savoured my triumph at shaming her like she did to me the morning she found her panties under my pillow.

Her most shocking and dirtiest secret had just come out in the open, forever tainting her perfect image. I still couldn't really believe it myself that she masturbated, too, and that we'd just become one and the same. She no longer had the right to tell me that masturbation was wrong, and even if she might've not realised it before she screamed at me, after seeing me being unresponsive to her threatening voice, she surely did, and the way she quickly yanked up a sheet she was sitting on to cover herself proved that.

As if what I'd done already wasn't enough to make her feel embarrassed to death, her vibrator got tossed at my feet the moment she yanked up the sheet it was lying on. As we both looked at it, I felt her mortification swirling up in the air. To add salt to the wound, I looked up at her face with a sneering look on mine afterwards. But even though I thought that I'd just dealt her a knockout blow by doing that, she still managed to be crafty.

"Charles, I'm your mother for heaven's sake," she said that looking at my tenting erection, and although it was an obvious attempt to get back at me for shaming her with my intrusion, I felt too embarrassed to keep standing in her bedroom a moment longer. But before I left, I looked at my tenting cock, grinned at it, and then I looked up at her face and grinned at her, too.

After I got back to my room with my dick still hard, and the spectacle I'd just witnessed still fresh on my mind, I couldn't get myself in bed before wanking. So I unzipped my jeans and finally fished out my cock to give it a stroke it had been aching for since the moment I heard the first moan coming out of my mom's bedroom.

It had been a week since I last masturbated, so nothing else considered, the orgasm was inevitably going to be explosive, and when I closed my eyes and started seeing everything from the moment I peeked into my mom's bedroom, I couldn't start imagining how amazing it was going to be the moment I was going to start shooting out my sperm. The moment she fucked her vibrator inside of her wet cunt while she was furiously rubbing her clit at the same time was what I spent most of my time visualising.

I didn't get much time doing the same for the time she began screaming when she started having her orgasm because I suddenly came. While I shot out hot strings of my semen on a shirt, I tried to keep replaying everything I saw, and to some extent I managed. But it was only an image of how sexy Mom looked when her hair was spread all over her flushed face the moment she sat up after having her orgasm.

"What are you doing here...?" I remembered the way I was staring at her bald wet pussy when she asked that.

That image of her cunt oozing her juices kept me hard for another round which I felt I still needed because I came too fast the first time. When I left her bedroom, I did it before she could explain herself because among other things, I needed to jerk off, and also give her some time to find the right words. She always made sure to give an explanation whenever she did something that was against her morals, so that epic conversation was surely going to come. I expected the occasion to happen after I'd woken up, but she followed me to my bedroom for that and burst in without knocking.

"Charles, I'm—" Hers was a genuine shock. More original than the choreographed jaw dropping I pulled when I walked in on her. She suddenly closed the door right after she saw my stiff cock chocked in my palm, shutting herself outside and I had nothing to be ashamed of like she did when I walked in on her.

I kept on stroking my cock and I didn't stop until I shot countless jets of hot semen on my shirt again. It was unlikely that she was waiting for me to finish while she stood outside my door. But I knew wherever she'd gone, her mind was still trying to deal with what she'd seen because since she already knew the reason I left her room turned on, I expected her to know the reason I was masturbating, and the things I was thinking of while I was doing that.

Her bedroom turned to be the room she went back to, which was pretty obvious, and I followed her there after I'd put away my limp cock. Before I entered, I knocked just to be funny, and before she responded to that knock, I got in and went to sit on a stool that was on her dressing table. She was looking awkward from the shock of what she'd just seen, and although there was some awkwardness I was also feeling about the things we'd caught each other doing, I tried to be as laid-back and comfortable as I could be.

When I walked in on her, we became even because seeing her masturbate proved that she did it, too, and when she walked in on me, we became more than even because I could've had the right to make her miserable after what I saw her doing. But once she saw me doing it, too, no one had the right to make the other feel bad about it, and in a weird way, walking in on each other felt like an official confirmation that masturbation was no longer taboo in our house. I'd already embraced that, and although my co-wanker didn't seem to have accepted that yet, I could see that soon she was going to.

"Sorry, I just had to finish off—you know. It had been long, so it was kind of important that I had to go all the way," I casually said with a sly grin.

"So are we going to be treating what—um—we do as normal now? Because you are talking of it as if it is something which is normal and acceptable." She was beginning to make her naïve statements again, like how she said masturbation was going to make me blind. I wondered when the light bulb in her brain was going to switch on. It took a few seconds, and until that moment she realised the truth on her own came, I kept on looking at her. "Okay then, if that's what you want it to be like."

I smiled when she finished saying that and then I said, "There is nothing to be ashamed of, Mom. Most people do it."

She sighed. "But you should know that I'm your mother, and you shouldn't stop respecting me. Even though it's no secret any longer that we both like masturbating, I'm not going to stop respecting your privacy, and you shouldn't stop respecting mine, either—" She paused for a moment, then she said, "The most important thing I wanted to say to you when I came to your room is that I know I said some things that might've made you feel bad last week, and I take it all back. I'm sorry." She was genuinely remorseful when she said that apology, but I didn't want the conversation to suddenly start getting deep, so I did my best to steer it away from going there.

"It's okay, Mom, at least now I know that we'll be taking care of each other after it makes us go blind." I made fun of her statement and that made her smile a little. We remained quiet for a while and she kept on looking at me as if she was expecting me to say something else.

"Is that all you're going to say to me?" she eventually asked and I really had nothing more to say.

"Yeah, what else should I say?" I asked back.

"Don't know...maybe tell me how much of a hypocrite I am."

I chuckled. "You're not a hypocrite, Mom," I said in earnest and she was still expecting more words from me, but I still had nothing else to say to her. My eyes had been feeling heavy all along, and I was managing it, but once it started feeling like I wasn't going to keep doing that for much longer, I decided to wrap up the chat to go get some sleep.

"So how was your night out?" she asked, wanting to start another conversation and the way she said that made me realise that the tension that had been going on for the past week because of my little indiscretion had gone away. Once I went along with the conversation she wanted to start, it was going to take an hour before the next chance she was going to let me slip away. Although I really missed chatting with her, I'd already decided to save that conversation for later, after I got some sleep.

"I feel really tired. I will tell you about it after I wake up," I said to her as I stood up, and when she nodded to show that she understood, I went back to my bedroom and slept till midday.

When she saw me after I woke up, we picked up where we left off, and we spent a huge part of the afternoon chatting just like we always did when everything was normal between us. The morning incidents didn't even cross my mind, not even once, but towards the end of our chat, I noticed for the first time on her expression that there was something she still had to say about what happened earlier, and suddenly, there was an elephant in the room. At first, I decided to address the issue, but since she was the one who was still concerned about something, I ended up waiting for her to bring up the issue. After a while, she finally plucked up the courage to say what was bothering her.

"The way you are taking what happened in the morning is really making me feel bad," she said.

"Why?"

"You're just acting like it's no big deal, but it would be so much better if you tell me how much I've disappointed you," she sounded like she was ready to cry if I wasn't going to say what she wanted to hear and I chuckled.

"Mom, it's no big deal, seriously. I thought you said we shouldn't talk about it anymore." I saw it best to be slippery about the issue and she shrugged and sighed.

"Fine, good talk, I gotta take a bath before I get dinner started," she lethargically said as she stood up and walked to her bedroom, ending our conversation with that.

It was heavily pouring outside and I didn't have anything to do, so I ended up in my room, playing some video games. I got out when she called me to sit for dinner, and because I was back to my naughty ways, my cock was ready to be stroked at the table if she was going to turn me on during the meal.

As if she was begging me to do that, the first thing I noticed when I saw her was that she'd shaved her shapely legs, and seeing them all smooth took them to a whole new level of sexy. I was sure going to masturbate on the table after seeing that, but I made the mistake of sitting first the moment she rushed away from the table just as I got there.

When she came back, she sat right next to me, making it impossible for me to go on with my plan to masturbate during dinner. Although I could've fixed that by finding an excuse to switch chairs, it was suddenly not an issue anymore as I became concerned with the mischievous-looking face she came back wearing from wherever she'd rushed out to.

It was her rare up-to-no-good face, which I felt I didn't have to ask why she had it on because it seemed she was going to spit the reason soon. Some minutes after we'd started having our dinner she said, "I've left some things in your bedroom, under your pillow. We're not going to talk about it, and if you don't like what you find there, just burn everything, okay?"

The silk French knickers she found in my room were under my pillow. Knowing my mom very well, and how she always overcompensated whenever I busted her doing something which she said to be against her morals, it was obvious that those panties had found their way back there. When we finished having our chat before she went to bath, apart from feeling that we'd become slightly more than what we were when everything was normal between us, I had a feeling our relationship was just about to become more fun and surprising. So although I was surprised by what she might've done, that surprise was also the reason it was obvious that she'd put back her panties under my pillow.

But even though going miles out of her way trying to get back on level terms with me was the most common weakness of hers, honestly, I didn't expect the way she surprised me by suggesting that she was giving me back her panties. It seemed rather extreme, even on my scale, and it appeared I was supposed to expect more when I considered that she said if I wasn't going to like everything I was going to find under my pillow I was supposed to burn all those things.

That made the situation more interesting. When I carefully thought about how I was going to find multiple things under my pillow, which my mother had left for me, I ended up forgetting how extreme she'd gone. I became curious to know what the other things left under my pillow with my mom's panties were. Asking her when she'd said she wanted to have no conversation about it was pointless because she never folded every time she said a statement like that. There was only one way to find out.

I had to go see what it was on my own, and after rushing the rest of my meal, I left the table for my bedroom without cleaning up after myself. Mom didn't usually let me do that under any circumstance, but that time she did, and the way she started marvelling at me right after I started rushing my food made me too eager to find out the things that were waiting for me in the bedroom. I found the silk French knickers just like I expected, and nestled with them under my pillow were three nude photos of her with the usual witty letter she never forgot to include whenever she surprised me with a gift. But that day's gift was nowhere similar to the usual gifts she surprised me with, though.

Charles,

The photos were meant for Kenny when I was still madly in love with him, so don't get ahead of yourself thinking that I'll get photos like that taken just for you. They're leftovers, and I don't know if giving them to you was the right thing to do.

I feel the same about giving you my underwear which you stained with your sperm, by the way. But if you want to get carried away by me giving them to you, I guess you can, because I did that just for you. Anyway, that was after realising that you were going to steal them again and masturbate seeing me nude like what I am in the photos.

Knowing that you're aware I masturbate makes me feel guilty about doing it. But knowing that you fantasise about me when you masturbate makes you a little bit worse than I am, unhinged rather, and giving you my photos makes sure you keep doing that, and again, make no mistake assuming that I did this for you.

I didn't. I did it for myself because it's going to take away the guilt next time I'm gonna get myself off because I'll know exactly what will be going through your mind whenever you do the same thing. It also makes me feel like we're even now, and not the hypocrite you should've told me that I am.

So here's to your weird and demented fantasises, and to making sure that I'm guaranteed a peace of mind every time I'm gonna diddle my special lady, and although I'm very concerned about the things you think about when you masturbate, I still love you.

X.O.X.O

Mom, the letter read.

I was blown away! The woman I knew a day earlier as my conservative straight-edged mom had just given me her nude photos to use whenever I was going to masturbate. Even for the surprising, and more fun mother-son relationship that we bonded into because of our mutual love for masturbation, that was way too extreme and beyond the wildest of my wildest imagination. Well, except for wishing that we could fuck.

The underwear was understandable, though, and maybe that was because I was already expecting to get the French knickers when I found them, but the nude photos... That was so unlike her, no excuse—not even if I was expecting to get them. But nonetheless, I was so happy and too overwhelmed to keep wondering about that, and the feelings were so great I couldn't even masturbate that night.

I just kept on looking at the photos while I fondled and smelled her silk panties, wondering if it wasn't all a dream. It wasn't, I later made myself really believe that, and as I kept lying on my bed, facing my old ceiling while I listened to the rain which was still pouring outside, I noticed that the water stain on my ceiling was getting bigger.

A moment later I picked up a broomstick which I kept under my bed, and in an absent-minded move caused by my immense excitement, I started poking on the wet stain on the ceiling with the broomstick. Part of the ceiling I poked on had become soft from the rain that had soaked in it, and it collapsed suddenly, drenching me and my bed with the rain that hadn't soaked in it yet.

"I'm getting dumb," I laughed at myself as I went to the bathroom to clean myself up and I couldn't get back to sleep on my bed because my mattress had gotten wet. So I went to sleep on the couch and took my gifts with me. The following morning Mom woke me up blaring like a siren.

"Charles! What the hell are you doing on my couch?" she screamed on top of her lungs. It was a brand new couch and she loved it more than her life and me. "That couch didn't just cost me an arm and a leg, and now you want to ruin it!"

"My ceiling caved in on me last night because of that roof leak that's been making water stains all over it, and my bed got wet, so I had nowhere else to sleep," I explained, sitting up.

She wasn't expecting me to be out of my bedroom that early, so she had come out of her bedroom putting on another one of her aged nightdresses. That one was much older than the one she usually wore, and it pretty much looked like it was made of transparent fabric. Everything was visible, and since she wasn't wearing a bra, her tits were practically bare in front of my eyes, and so were her red panties.