Unknown: Mother Eager Beaver

John knew he was too young to fuck but he wasn't too young to think about it. He'd spied on his sisters a couple of times while they were taking a bath, then he went into his bedroom and played with himself while he thought about their naked pussies. It would be more than wonderful if he could play with himself while looking at his mother's beautiful red haired pussy. It'd almost be as if he were fucking her. Maybe he could play with himself without letting her know what he was doing. Hurry, Mama. He prayed. I want to look at you some more.

Barbara locked the bathroom door behind her, then she lowered the lid on the commode seat. She sat down and opened her legs as her hands caressed the inside of her sticky thighs, then she leaned against the tank. She raised her knees a little as her pussylips gaped for the pleasure she hoped to give herself. The fingers of one hand opened her labia while two fingers of the other hand eased into the warm slipperiness of her swollen membranes.

She teased at the contracting entrance of her seething vagina for only a brief moment before ramming her fingers into the very depths of her wanting belly. She worked them around inside her tunnel for a minute, then she slipped another finger into her cuntal sheath and gasped at the pleasure she felt. She quickly eased the fourth finger beneath her grasping pussylips and thrust it alongside the other three. Her breath quickened as her asscheeks undualted on the commode lid, forcing her frothing, cunny up and down in a fucking motion at her demanding hand.

She was on the verge of orgasm but she just couldn't seem to bring herself off. All four fingers were rammed into her up to the third knuckle but it wasn't enough. She needed a cock. That's the only thing which would do her any good. She'd give almost anything to feel a hard cock inside her right now.

"What's the use?" she groaned as her fingers slurped from the heat of her wanting snatch. "This is no good. It just won't do the job."

She suddenly thought of John as she reached for a towel. She couldn't let her son see juices of desire bubbling from her pussy. Maybe he'd forget about wanting to look at her but she doubted it. She wiped the wetness from her legs and pussy as she stood up. She looked at the reflection of her reddened face in the small mirror. It looked sinful and guilty, then she shivered from fright. What would she do if he still wanted to look at her? Could she just stand there and let him look without desiring more attention from him? Her swollen dit suddenly throbbed and ached with desire. Would she dare ask him to touch it with his finger and caress it? She trembled as she remembered the thrill of his young eyes on her nakedness, then a tear slithered down the cheek of the image in the mirror.

What in the goddamned hell was she thinking? What was happening to her moral standards? She wanted a cock and she couldn't help it. Another tear suddenly trickled down the other cheek of the image. She couldn't help needing a cock so. badly, but she could stop thinking about her son this way. Jesus, even her thoughts seemed disgraceful and sinful. She smiled at her image as she told herself she could never stoop low enough to do anything other than let her son look at her. And she'd do that only because she'd led him to believe it was all right.

She walked back to her bedroom with more confidence in herself, then she found herself bolting the door behind her. She gasped as her eyes fell to the bed, then her face turned white with shock. John was completely naked and he was lying on his back. Her knees almost buckled as her eyes locked upon the engorged hardness at his crotch. His little cock was pointed straight at the ceiling, standing at attention in proudness.

"Oh, my God!" she moaned as her cuntal sheath contracted mysteriously, causing the inside of her thighs to become wet with oozing fluids of desire. It'd done no good to wipe herself off; her pussy was just as damp as it'd been in the bathroom. "John, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing, Mama. I just got naked like you," he tried to smile innocently at her. "It's all right, isn't it?"

What could she say? He'd assumed if it was right for her to be naked it was right for him to be naked. She wanted to cover his naked body and get that hard prick out of her sight. It was literally tearing at her insides sticking up like that, and what it was doing to her mind was even worse. She was already trying to figure a way to get it into her quivering depths. She felt faint and feverish as she looked lustily at his gorgeous little cock. She couldn't allow this. Oh, God, she just couldn't. Her body began to jerk a little, then she began to sob. The sobbing was more for her son's sake than for her own.

John's expression changed. His mother was crying uncontrollably and knew it was somehow his fault. He jumped out of bed and ran to her, throwing his arms around her and pulling her close as his hard cock pressed upward between her creamy thighs.

"I'm sorry, Mama, I didn't mean to make you cry," he whimpered, beginning to sob a little. "What did I do wrong? Why are you crying?"

Her voice choked up. She couldn't say a thing as her son pulled her to his warm nakedness. She felt that glorious little cock of his penetrating the soft valley between the upper section of her thighs, wishing it were penetrating the crease of her pussy. Sweet Jesus, this was her son's young cock between her legs and her pussy juices were flooding her thighs because of the delightful feeling. She knew she should push him away and run back into the bathroom but it was already too late for that. Her sinful, selfish need for a cock had driven her into her son's arms. Maybe it had driven him into her arms. It didn't really matter, his hard cock was between her legs and it felt good. She couldn't seem to keep her legs from opening a little, permitting his cock to push deeper and settle higher between her creamy thighs, then she caressed at his hardness with the warm softness of her skin as her arms surrounded him.

They stood there holding each other close as her hands soothed her son's naked back, pulling him even closer to her. He wondered why she was still crying. Hell, she was sobbing worse than before. Her heart must be breaking. She's the one who should be soothed. His hands slowly moved up and down the silky smoothness of her back, caressing her naked skin tenderly. He liked her close to him like this and he liked the feel of his cock between her warm legs, but he surely didn't like to hear her cry.

"Don't cry, Mama, please!" he begged as tears began to stream down his cheeks. "I just wanted to look at you. I didn't know you would get upset if I got naked like you."

Barbara found herself smiling a little at her son's concerned voice, then she somehow managed to control her sobbing and jerking. The choked up feeling in her throat was gone. Maybe she could finally talk to her son. She backed away from him and looked into his tearstained face, her eyes coming to rest on his puckered little lips.

"You're the one who shouldn't cry; you've done nothing wrong." She smiled down at him, then she kissed him on the cheek. "You're a little too young to understand what I felt when I saw you naked awhile ago. When you're older you'll know what I'm talking about. And don't worry about me; I'll get over this in a few minutes."

"I don't think I want you to get over it," his lips puckered even more. "I like to look at you and I like to hold you close to me. It feels good."

"It feels good to me too, darling. That's why we shouldn't do it," she whispered as tears came back to her eyes. "You see, it's wrong for us to do such things. I led you on, forcing you to do something you didn't want to. I'm sorry, John. Can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," he smiled as he threw her own words back at her. "What could possibly be wrong when a young boy wants to look at his mother's naked body? And what could possibly be wrong when he wants to hold her close to him? Especially when it feels so good?"