"Uh, Mom?" Billy asked as his mother ate breakfast. "Would you pick up a magazine for me? The guy in the store won't sell it to me…"
"He won't?" Ingrid asked, her full lips tightening with suspicion. "Why not?"
"Uh, I guess I'm not old enough to buy Hustler," he said, his face reddening. But he had to start somewhere. The idea was to let his mother know that he was interested in girls, and specifically in her.
"Billy! You aren't to even think of that filthy magazine!"
"But Mom," he protested. "I'm the only guy in class who doesn't know what a girl looks like! They tease me something awful!"
"I don't want to hear any more about it!" was Ingrid's final word on the subject.
Billy's mother was the blonde, robust daughter of Scandinavian immigrants. They'd imparted their belief that sex was normal and healthy to her early in life, but she felt Billy was just too young.
Two years before her divorce, Ingrid had stopped sleeping with her husband. It hadn't been easy, for hers was a body created for love, and she had grown used to having her bulging, smooth shaven pussy stuffed full of throbbing cock every night. So sex was never far from her thoughts. Eight years was, after all, a long time.
She didn't know it, but Billy was about to add fuel to the fires already burning in the depths of her cunt. Her son's plan called for peeking at her, and being obvious about it.
Right after breakfast Ingrid went to her bedroom to change before going shopping. Billy was at the keyhole, watching as she walked out of sight, threw her robe on the bed, and in a few minutes reappeared. She was wriggling, doing something he couldn't understand with her girdle. But he wasn't interested in her problems.
Standing before her full-length mirror, Ingrid turned this way and that, admiring her slender, full-titted and round-assed figure. The sight of her massive tits with their swollen brown areolas and hard nipples never failed to excite her. Her cunt, which she shaved out of habit and for comfort, was barely visible between her full upper thighs, and not at all to her peeping son.
Billy continued to watch, his cock hard and trapped by his pants so that the knob pointed at the floor. Gathering his nerve, he stood up and pushed her door open.
"Qops! Sorry, Mom," he said. "I didn't know you were undressing."
Without thinking, Ingrid turned. Her heavy tits swung almost painfully with the quick movement, slapping against each other and her arms.
Billy's face burned as he slowly and quite obviously ran his eyes from his mother's fat tits to the bareness between her thighs. He made no move to leave.
Stunned into speechlessness, Ingrid automatically covered her tits and cunt with her arms. The bare spot between her legs disappeared, but there was no way her arms could hide both her big tits. The shocked woman knew her face was red. In fact, her whole body felt hot. He'd seen her naked, examining herself in the mirror!
"Get out of here, Billy!" she croaked, her shock deepening as she saw the gigantic lump in her young son's pants. Oh, God, what should she do? Her own son had gotten hard looking at her!
"Oh. OK, Mom," Billy said, slowly walking backwards, and just as slowly closing the door, drawing out his view of his mother's spectacular body.
Ingrid immediately ran and pushed the bolt closed. She sat on the edge of the bed and tried to consider the situation calmly and rationally. I should be angry, she mused, leaning back and parting her legs. She felt the smooth surfaces of her cunt peeling apart in spots, clinging stickily in others. Juice was seeping between her bloating inner lips, and she could smell it. She ran the back of her hand across her forehead. She was sweating! Standing up again, she began to pace, her naked tits flopping heavily, and the bare cheeks of her plump ass quivering. She felt terribly confused. Peeking at his own mother! She knew she should yell at Billy, kick up a fuss, punish him somehow, but she just didn't have the heart to do it. He was so handsome, so much like his father in all the right ways, that she found his voyeurism embarrassed her rather than angered her.
And that lump in his pants! Had he inherited his father's big dick? God! How could she wonder about such a thing? What if he had, it certainly wouldn't do her any good.
She was in such a horny state that she pulled off the girdle and climbed up on the bed, straddling one long, fat, knobbed bedpost. Fingering open her smooth slit, she squatted and felt the cold, smooth wood part her pouting, dripping inner lips.
"Ahhhh!" she sighed, bending her knees and swabbing the big rounded post around, smearing it with her hot, fragrant juices. Then she centered it and dropped a few inches. The immovable object would never replace a fat, hot cock, but it was all she had. She closed her eyes and imagined Billy's eyes on her flopping boobs, and how the lump in his pants had looked.
"Uhhh! Uhhh!" She began pumping up and down and swinging her hips as much as the post would allow, fucking herself as wildly as she was sure Billy would if he had the chance.
Her tits slapped noisily on her chest, then smacked her arms, as she jerked and rocked lustily. She could bear her hungry cunt sucking and slurping over the carved dildo, and was tempted to just lift her feet into the air and take all of it into her, no matter how much it hurt.
Then she stood on tiptoe and wriggled the knob around in her cunt. She was about ready. Cupping one heavy tit, she lifted the straining red tip to her lips and sucked on it while her other hand plucked at her clit.
"Uhh! Uhh! Uhh!" Panting, climbing and dropping, she surged towards her orgasm. Her free tit jumped and shook as her quivering ass clenched, making her cry out loudly. Her seething cunt was collapsing over the hard wood, milking it tightly.
"Aghhhh! Ughh!" She was there! She spasmed again and again over the bedpost while visions of Billy's cock flitted through her whirling mind.
While all this was going on, Billy was on the phone to Tommy, describing the morning's events.
"Yeah, I got a good look right after breakfast, and guess what?"
"What?"
"She's got no hair on her cunt!"
"No shit! You mean she shaves it?"
"Guess so, it's as bald as an egg. I couldn't see too much, but it sure looks funny…"
"Man, that's weird. I wonder what my old lady'd look like with a shaved pussy. I'd like to see that."
"Yeah, who wouldn't? And I'd like to see Dave's Mom, too!"
"Yeah, can you imagine her bendin' over in front of you and spreading her big ass? Think how those tits'd hang!"
After a few more remarks on the same subject, Billy hung up. He was anxious to get back to work arousing his mother. Shit, if Dave and Tommy could fuck their old ladies, he sure as hell could!
In the days that followed Billy's request for that dirty magazine, Ingrid found herself increasingly nervous and worried. The situation was becoming impossible. Her son was continually walking in on her when she was undressing, or sneaking into her bedroom early in the morning to stare at her big breasts through her nighty before awakening her.
The itch in her cunt was intolerable, for Billy was making her aware of herself as a desirable woman again. She'd been so busy taking care of Billy after the divorce that, except for the Single Parent Society, she had no social life. But, since she'd joined a year ago, she'd met some new friends who often had experienced problems similar to hers. Up to the present, that is.
But she couldn't bring herself to tell a roomful of people that her son was interested in women's bodies. And not just any women, it seemed, but his own mother's. Yes, he'd made her aware that she excited him, and that she was really the only one he was interested in. How do you tell others your son is a voyeur? Maybe she should have a talk with Peggy Barton, or even with Val. Vat wasn't a member, but she had a son.
Those were the thoughts running through the horny woman's mind as she left her room and suddenly halted, startled by the low groans cowing from Billy's bedroom. Then she heard the rhythmic creaking of his bedsprings.
His door was partly open, so she looked inside. Oh, God Ingrid recoiled in confusion. Her teenaged son was lying on the covers, stark naked, his legs parted to expose a pair of fat, round, nearly hairless balls drawn up against the base of his upstanding prick. And that thick tool was half-hidden by his tight fist. Her boy was jerking off!
Worse, she now saw the album and large, framed photograph spread out beside him. They were all pictures of her! Innocent pictures, to be sure. Family pictures, taken after the divorce, of Ingrid and her sisters, or Ingrid and Billy, or just her leaning against a tree in a tight sweater.
Then she saw Billy lift up her portrait. Staring at it fixedly, he groaned and ran his fist up and down his sturdy young shaft with increasing vigor. Her eyes followed his big nuts as they jumped with the energy with which he was beating off, and then she heard exactly what he was saying!
"Uhhh, ohhh, Mom! Ahhh… beautiful… love you, Mom…"
The fat knob of her son's cock was engorged to satiny smoothness, the purplish swollen skin shiny under its slippery coating of pre-cum. He was breathing heavily now, and Ingrid stared, entranced in spite of herself, and suddenly realized that her panties were soaked!
Staring in horror at the horse-sized pecker, she realized that Billy's cock was already longer and fatter than his father's.
And her heart leaped. Billy was cumming! He grabbed his straining prick with both hands, pulling the skin down tight toward his balls. His piss slit gaped widely in the purplish head, and then he was blowing out huge wads of creamy cum. The hot jism arced high above him and splattered on his belly, gathering into thick, white puddles. Ingrid licked her lips as, moaning, he pumped his hands feebly a few times, and then let his dribbling prick sag heavily over his upper thigh. "Mom…" he sighed, and closed his eyes.
Ingrid's face was burning. Her cunt was on fire. Her brain reeled with the memory of how she had jumped on her bedpost, fucking herself with the cold wood while dreaming of Billy's cock. But such thoughts weren't normal, she was sure. Even if there was no physical contact, the thoughts themselves were incestuously tinged.
She recognized her body's needs as healthy, but being celibate all these years wasn't. She'd have to find a man, and soon. Perhaps one of the Society's male members. But it had been so many years since she had dated, that she didn't really know how to approach a man.
But she had to try. For her own peace of mind, she had to try.
What Ingrid couldn't know, let alone suspect, was that Billy had deliberately left his door open and fondled his prick just when he knew his mother would see him. Just as he had deliberately placed her pictures where she could see them. And his mumbled endearments to them had also been well planned.
Watching her from under his lashes, he saw the glow in her cheeks, and the roundness of her eyes, and knew that she had become excited watching him. His campaign was beginning to work!
Billy's big break came when he least expected it, the next day. He was peeking, or trying to, anyway, while his mother prepared for her shower. Because Ingrid had thoughtlessly hung something from the doorknob, he was foiled in his attempt to view her through the keyhole. He heard water striking the shower curtain, and his teenage mind filled with lewd visions of wet tits and ass.
"Double-damn!" he muttered. Then he thought that maybe a broken clothes hanger could be used to push aside whatever it was that blocked his view.
Ingrid had just stepped from the stall when a scraping noise caught her attention. She removed her shower cap and saw a thin wire poke through the keyhole, knocking her blouse from the knob.
She forgot all about her towel. Oh, no, she thought, almost with resignation, not again! Billy must really be desperate to spend half his waking hours thinking up new ways to peek at her. She could almost pity him, imagining his furtive slinking and eager anticipation which usually resulted in disappointment for him, since she was trying to be careful around him.
Poor boy. Something had to be done to end this increasingly awkward and exasperating situation. Impulsively, she caught the wire and yanked it through the keyhole. She heard a surprised gasp and a shuffle.
"Billy!" There was no answer.
Still under the influence of the same impulse that had made her grab the wire, she tried again.
"Billy! Listen! If I let you look at me once and for all, will you stop this damn sneaking around? Will that satisfy your curiosity?"
Ingrid didn't realize that, as she stood before the door, her son was now looking straight through the keyhole at her huge tits.
"Well, Billy? Are you going to answer me?" She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and the boy drooled as her fat jugs swayed with her movements, rolling back and forth. He licked his lips. This was what he had been waiting for, but he couldn't believe his luck. Tommy'd shit when he heard about this! Then his eye watered and he tried to refocus as his mother walked right up to the door. Shit, he was looking right at the pink bareness between her thighs! His eye strained to see more than the hint of Ingrid's rather low-slung, plump slit.
Then she culled his name and asked her question and his heart began to pound. "Do you mean it, Mom?"
"Yes!" she said, and he heard her unlock the door. He watched it swing slowly open.
Ingrid could hardly believe that she was standing naked in front of her teenaged son. She shivered suddenly as cool air blew across her wet body.
"Wow!" Billy exclaimed, his eyes devouring her shiny, creamy curves. Her enormous tits jiggled, their huge dark tips puckering from a combination of the cold and her nervousness. His eyes dropped to where her cunt lay hidden.
Ingrid was uncomfortably aware of the growing lump in her boy's pants, but told herself that it was a natural response. But why did her eyes keep returning to it? Was it because she now knew what it looked like, what it was capable of?
"Well," she tried to joke, "was it worth all this trouble?"
Billy nodded mutely, inching nearer, studying the goosepimples on her puffy areolas. Then he slowly walked around her, admiring her creamy asscheeks. Ingrid fidgeted under his examination, and felt herself blushing hotly. Time seemed to drag on and on. What probably were only seconds seemed to her like hours.
Finally, he was standing in front of her again. There was a growing wet spot on the front of his pants which she tried to ignore. He bent his head and peered between her thighs, and Ingrid thought she would die of shame.
"Uh, Mom? I can't see anything there." And he touched the top of her crotch to show her where he meant.
His mother squealed and jumped, and her huge tits swayed heavily. "That… that's all, Billy," she stammered with sudden fear. "You'd better leave."
"But Mom," he cried, "you promised you'd let me look at you!"
Ingrid's heart softened at his anguished tone, but her fear increased. To her shame, she was experiencing a depraved sense of power. In the past six years she'd all but forgotten that her lush body possessed a tremendous capacity for either giving or withholding pleasure. Her heart went out to her young son. Sexual curiosity can be a painful thing to a boy his age, she told herself, and now that she'd led him to believe that his curiosity would be satisfied, what right had she to disappoint him?
"You want to see my pussy, don't you, Billy?" she asked him quietly. Speechless, he could only nod emphatically.
Nervously, Ingrid searched for the right words. "People… people think it's sinful for a mother to show her private parts to her son. But, if it's done for a good cause, and with love, it doesn't hurt anyone." It was as if she herself needed convincing, Ingrid realized.
And then Billy saw his pretty mother spread her legs apart and lean backward a bit, exposing her swollen, hairless outer lips.
Billy hastily fell to his knees as Ingrid shakily reached between her plump thighs and pulled her cunt lips apart. Billy stared, wide-eyed with lust.
The demoralized mother felt incredibly hot and lewd as her teenage son closely examined her flushed sex-flesh. Her clit was inflamed, throbbing at the top of her open cunt.
Billy forced himself away from the spectacular sight and walked around her again. "Now your ass, Mom?" he asked.
Ingrid hadn't expected a further examination, but supposed that he wanted to be sure that women weren't different there, too. Shamefully thrusting out her fleshy ass, she pulled the round cheeks away from each other.
"Can-can I touch it, Mom?" Billy whispered and, without waiting for her to reply, stroked her damp bung with the ball of his finger. It was hot and slick, and he saw it visibly clench as his mother moaned and pulled away.
"You-you mustn't ever do that again," Ingrid stuttered, her asshole still tingling. She turned to face him, her enormous tits swinging heavily from side to side.
Billy looked at them and asked her to lift them so he could sea under them. Ingrid was greatly embarrassed but, after going as far as she already had, she couldn't easily refuse his request. She cupped and raised the heavy tits, and caught herself peering between them at the bulge in her son's pants.
Flustered, she dropped them and groaned. Billy appeared to ignore her actions and asked her to spread her legs again, because there was a funny thing he wanted to ask about. Ingrid knew she shouldn't go on, but discovered to her shame that exhibiting her body in such a lewd manner excited her. Oh, God! she wondered, am I a latent exhibitionist?
Feeling extremely wicked, Ingrid once more spread her shaven, reddened pussy, discovering that such gross exposure only inches from her son's eyes really did erotically stimulate her.
"What did you want to ask?" she questioned weakly.
"What's this thing, Mom?" And he took her jutting clit between his thumb and finger and tweaked it.
"Nnnghh! Wawwww!" Ingrid shrieked, her arms flailing aimlessly and her legs stumbling backwards.
"Unhhhhh, nuhhhhh…" Billy held on, staying with her, his fingers still gripping the raw, sensitive nubbin as she writhed in painful ecstasy. Hot juices poured from her cunt, soaking her hairless lips and the insides of her full white thighs. She bucked and thrashed and finally sat down quickly.
"Uhh! Ohh, No-o-o-o-o!" She wailed as wave after wave of pleasure mingled with pain throbbed through her tormented clit.
Her teenaged son watched, fascinated, as her cunt clutched and relaxed below his gripping fingers, puckering and bubbling wetly as his mother spasms.
Ingrid's mind had blanked out when Billy took hold of her engorged, beet-red clit and squeezed it. She yowled and whimpered when, in trying to escape the blissful torment, she caused it to be tugged. A growing heat in the pit of her stomach convoyed to her sensation-swamped mind that she was about to cum. An orgasm, after all this time alone, and brought on by her own son's fingers. And then she felt something invading her unused, dripping hole. Omigod, a finger! And another! Oh, God, she had at least three fingers jammed in her cunt, stroking juicily in and out while her beating clit was plucked and squeezed.
Hugely excited, Billy watched his fingers sink into his mother's hot, squishy cunt hole. The pink lips seemed to suck at his knuckles on the outstroke, and he felt the stiff clit pulsing and throbbing. The way his mother was bucking and grunting, he knew she was cumming!
Ingrid went out of control as her son pumped her pussy faster and faster, sometimes hurting her with his lack of finesse, and simultaneously strummed her aching clit. She gasped and moaned hysterically, her huge, hanging tits rolling all over her sweaty chest.
Her eyes fluttered, focusing just before her exuberant contractions hit. Billy was kneeling between her wide-spread legs, both hands working on her pink, puckering pussy. His eyes were downcast, boring into her steaming, juicing cunt.
And then her soft, quivering thighs were clenching tightly around his hands and arms and she arched her back, thrashing so wildly that her big tits slapped noisily against her chest and each other.
"Ohhhh! Cumming! Aghhh, Goddd!"
As her sexual frenzy passed she slid to the floor, completely drained for the first time in years. She didn't see her son hastily drop his pants, and she hardly felt him part her shapely legs. But she started to wake up when she felt his weight atop her, flattening her tits. And then something hot and fat began probing the sloppy hole between her thighs.
"No, Billy! Nooo!" She moaned loudly, responding, lifting her knees and helping him slide into her. "No, please…"
And then he was churning her slippery cunt with his stiff cock with youthful glee, and she heard him groaning and grunting as he heaved above her, pinning her to the tile floor time after time. Ingrid groaned, stiffening, but as he punched his taut prick into her wet folds she creamed and her ass began to quiver and then she was circling and lifting it under him. His fat balls smacked loudly in the deep crack, tormenting her asshole.
"I'm fuckin' you, Mom!" Billy cried, "I'm really fuckin' you!" And he dropped his flushed face into the wide, sweaty valley of her rippling, bouncing, heavy tits, rolling it from side to side, smothering himself in their pillowy softness.
Billy felt his mother's legs raise and wrap around him as he drove his fat prick deep, plunging it into her sucking cunt. "You like it!" He cried. "You like it!"
"Ahhhh, yes, Billy! Yes!" Ingrid screamed, digging her fingers into her son's ass, her face distorted by the ecstasy sweeping over her for the second time that day. She felt her slick folds clutch around her son's fat cock as he thrust and withdrew, smacking wetly. Then she came and, in her excitement, released a series of small farts.
Billy was quick to follow her. His steaming cum spewed out explosively, the overflow of thick white jism squirting from her cunthole and dripping down her ass. Billy dropped one hand, but kept pumping. That hand dug into her ass, two fingers working at the tight ring of her slick hole.
"Ughh!" Ingrid grunted loudly as Billy jammed the fingers quickly and painfully into her virgin shitter. Her soft ass flailed as the ache in her rear hole merged with her orgasm.
"Oh, Mom!" Billy groaned, collapsing on her. Ingrid wrapped her arms around him and tightened her thighs, rocking with bliss. The incestuous couple remained that way for a quarter of an hour, while Billy stroked and fondled his mother.