Brad Logan: Peeking at Mom

Biff's cock got hard as he stared at the ad in the magazine. It was only an ad for a resort in the Bahamas showing a beautiful lady in a bikini running from the surf onto the beach. But for a kid like Biff, a picture like that was a powerful aphrodisiac.

In his fevered mind, Biff was imagining himself standing on that beach. The lovely woman was running toward him. As he watched her tits bouncing heavily in the tiny top of the bikini, Biff imagined himself opening his arms to encircle the gorgeous creature.

As his daydream continued, he could actually feel the woman pressing her body on his. His imagination even supplied the warm drops of water that covered the woman's body.

As Biff's hard cock pressed against the tightness of his jeans, he imagined he could feel the chick's taut belly pressing against his prick, right through his bathing suit.

Although Biff had never actually sunk his prick into a pussy, he did know the feeling of firm tits against his chest. And now he brought the memory of some of his own hot times at the beach into his fantasy.

He let his mind continue flying. He imagined his hand sliding down the wet curve of the woman's back. He dreamed of finding the crack of her ass at the top of the bikini. In his fantasy, his hand slid into the bikini, covering the firm, round cheeks of the woman's ass.

"Let's go back to our room," he imagined the woman saying. "I want to fuck!"

Even though the soft voice was a daydream, Biff's cheeks burned. In fact, his whole body was on fire – a familiar feeling to the horny kid.

His fantasy continued.

"I can't wait," he imagined himself saying.

Biff saw himself dragging the woman down onto the sand. He still had one hand on her ass. He was covering her mouth with his own. His tongue slipped into her mouth. A soft puffing sound came from the chick's throat.

By this time, in the real world, Biff's prick was throbbing painfully in his pants. He knew it wouldn't be long before he was unzipping his fly so that he could get his hand around his stiff cock. But the longer he waited, the longer he kept his fantasy alive, the better his orgasm would be.

As he dreamed on, Biff pulled his hand from the imaginary lady's ass. He slid his hand around her lithe body to her tits. Capturing one of her luscious tits, he thrilled to its size and suppleness.

Being a horny young kid with a very vivid imagination, Biff was having a wonderfully exciting time. In the back of his mind he knew it was only a sexual fantasy. But if this was only fantasy, how would the reality of sex affect him? He couldn't know.

Suddenly, though, reality broke into his daydream.

The phone was ringing. Biff had to answer. The imaginary woman began to fade. The Bahamian beach began to disappear. By the time the phone rang again, Biff was back in the living room, looking at the ad on the glossy page of the magazine.

His prick made it difficult for him to walk, but he struggled to the other side of the room where the phone was.

His hand trembled as he lifted the receiver.

"Hello," he said as normally as he could, even though be was slightly breathless.

"Is this Biff?" A woman's voice asked.

"Yes," Biff said.

"Hello, honey," the woman said. "You probably don't remember me. I used to live next door to you on Maple Street. Marge Berg. You used to play with my daughter, Sandy."

"Oh yeah," Biff said. "I remember."

Biff had been a little kid when they moved from Maple Street. But he would never forget Sandy Berg and her mother. In fact, those memories began to come flooding back to Biff.

"I got into a funny mood," Marge Berg said. "I felt like calling old friends and neighbors. I'm so glad you remember me."

"Yeah, I sure do," Biff said. "How is Sandy, anyhow?"

"Oh, she's fine," Marge said. "She's away at college, but she'll be coming home in a few weeks for the summer. You wouldn't recognize her – she's turned into quite a woman."

If she turned out anything like her mother, she must be a hot chick, Biff thought.

Suddenly, Biff remembered that Marge Berg was the first woman he had seen naked besides his mother. That memory came back like a sock in the jaw.

"I remember how you and Sandy used to play together in the yard," Marge was saying.

But Biff was hardly paying any attention now. In mind was occupied with the memory of how he had once stumbled onto Marge, naked in front of her bedroom mirror.

Biff hadn't thought about that scene in a long time. In fact, he must have ignored that memory because it was so strange. He hadn't only seen Marge naked – she had been doing something to herself. Now, with Marge's voice in his ear, Biff understood just what it was he had seen.

He could see Marge again in his vivid memory. She was standing naked, in front of her mirror. Biff had seen his mother naked often, so the sight of a naked lady didn't seem unusual. But Marge was holding herself, and moving in a funny way.

Biff remembered how puzzled he had been as he watched. It looked as though she were washing herself. But she couldn't have been washing in the bedroom. Still, her hand had definitely been scrubbing her cunt. Her other hand held one of her tits. And her hips were moving back and forth.

Jerking off was something Biff had never dreamed of in those days. And since he had discovered jerking off, he hadn't once thought about that strange scene he had witnessed.

But now, suddenly and startlingly, he understood. He had caught Marge jerking off and hadn't even realized it.

Now her voice was filling him with raw passion. What wouldn't he give to see that scene again? Now he would appreciate seeing a woman jerking off.

"Do you remember?" Marge was saying.

Biff hadn't been listening. The last thing he had heard her say was that he and Sandy used to play in the back yard.

"Yeah, I remember," Biff croaked, his throat constricted with excitement.

He remembered, all right. He remembered seeing this woman rubbing herself into ecstasy. And now, years later, the memory was turning him into a fiend of lust.

"Those were good times, weren't they, Biff?" Marge was saying.

"Yes, they were," Biff managed to say, although his breath was coming in desperate gasps.

With one hand, Biff tore at his belt as he tried to hold the telephone receiver to his ear. This voice was driving him wild.

"By the way," Marge said, "is your mother at home?"

"No, no, she isn't," Biff said as evenly as he could.

He had his prick out by this time. It stood from his crotch and jerked its fat cockhead. When Biff ran his fingers along it, he shivered.

The idea of jerking off while listening to Marge's voice was irresistible. Biff knew it was pretty weird, but he couldn't help himself.

"Well, tell your mother I called," Marge said.

"Wait," Biff gasped.

By this time he had his hand around his prick. He was pulling the loose skin back and forth along the thick cock.

Biff had to to pull himself together enough to keep Marge on the line while he jerked off. He realized that his voice must sound peculiar to her. But he didn't want her to hang up until he had shot his load. Her voice was so sweet and sexy that he had to hear it as he came.

"Ah, when is Sandy coming home?" he asked.

"In about two weeks, I think," Marge said. "Let's see. She'll be home on the twenty-second."

Marge's voice was still terribly exciting to dxc boy. As he stared across the room, he could almost see her standing in front of her mirror with her fingers in her cunt.

Then Biff remembered something else about the long-forgotten scene. Marge had begun to make a strange sound as she rubbed her cunt. And, as he listened to her voice now, he remembered that sound. It had been a sort of whimper.