Kathy Andrews: Davy_s loving mother

Molly stood gazing at her son.

Davy was sound asleep, sprawled on his back. His night lamp was still burning, and he had kicked the sheets to the foot of the bed. His pajamas hung low on his hips, the naked flesh of his stomach showing.

She was wearing a long nightgown, a nylon gown that clung to the curves of her slender body. The top of her gown was lace, and the light-brown color of her nipples showed. She entered her son's room and stood over him, her eyes roaming about his youthful body.

Across his face was a pair of her panties.

This was not the first time she had seen her panties on his face while he slept. She had been peeking in on him for the past week, and each night the panties were either on his face or lying next to his head on the pillow. They were always the same pair of panties. They were pink, trimmed with white lace, the crotch usually turned outward.

Molly was very much aware that some men enjoyed fondling a woman's panties during times of jerking off. She knew they enjoyed the scent of a woman's worn panties, and at times wrapped the nylon about their cocks, to jack off. But that was men, not her son. Davy was young, and she felt he shouldn't know what to do with his cock yet, let alone find pleasure in caressing a pair of panties.

But for a week she had seen him with those same panties near his head or draped over his face while he slept.

She thought the panties had been mysteriously lost while being washed. The washing machine sometimes ate a sock or two, but never panties.

Oddly enough, she didn't feel anger at her son for having them. She felt an unusual tingling sensation between her thighs as she looked down on his sleeping body. One of his eyes showed through the leg of her panties, and the crotch rested lightly on his lips.

All day she had been wearing the same panties. Molly usually changed her panties at least twice a day, but today was different. Feeling a flush of excitement on her lovely face, she lifted her gown to her waist, and peeled her panties off. She held them up, turning them inside out. They were pink, too, but the whole front was black lace. She brought the panties to her face and sniffed. The scent of her cunt was there, along with two stray dark pussy hairs. Very carefully, she removed the panties from her son's sleeping face and placed the other panties there.

She looked down at him for a while, her eyes straying toward the crotch of his pajamas. The fly gaped slightly, and she leaned over to look closely. She could see the base of Davy's cock, the hint of one ball. Her hand began to itch with the desire to fondle him, to feel his cock and precious balls. Fighting the urge, she left his room, her panties balled in her hand. She tossed the panties into the laundry hamper of the hall bathroom where she was sure Davy would see them in the morning. Then, on an impulse, she stripped her gown over her head.

Molly had rich, dark, chestnut-colored hair, with hot green eyes and a full, wide mouth. Her face was beautiful, as beautiful as any cover-girl model. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, creamy to the touch. Her tits were full and wide-spaced, the nipples tilted upward. She had a small waist and a flat stomach, with just a delicious hint of roundness. Her hips were curvy and her thighs very long and shapely. Her ass swelled out in mouth watering firm cheeks, with a deep, inviting asscrack. The hair of her cunt was shaped like an open fan, with a very a faint line of thin hair growing toward her dimpled belly button.

Feeling delicious to be naked in the hall bathroom, the door wide open, Molly giggled with a lewd sound. She ran her hands to her cunt, parting the thick hair to expose the pinkness of her cunt. Pulling at the lips of her cunt, she parted them until her cunt jutted forth. Molly's cunt was unusual in that it was extra long, perhaps a full inch. It was the most sensitive thing she had ever touched. Now, she rubbed lightly with the tip of finger over it, her hips jerking spastically as she moaned softly.

She resisted the powerful urge to stab a finger up her cunt and work it in and out, bringing herself to orgasm. As much fun as it was to fingerfuck, she wanted more than a stiff finger up her pussy.

Sighing, she picked her gown up, draped it over her shoulder, and nakedly stepped into the hall. She walked to her room, pausing at Davy's door and looking in at him. If he was awake, he would have seen his naked mother standing there, her green eyes smoldering at the front of his pajamas. Molly trembled with strange hungers, and turned to her room.

The next morning, Davy said nothing.

Molly watched him carefully. Surely he knew there was a different pair of panties on his face than those he went to sleep with. But Davy gave no indication he knew. Dressed in her light summer robe, with a fresh pair of panties on, but her tits naked, Molly prepared his breakfast as he sat at the table. Davy wore his cut-offs, with sneakers on his feet. Cut-offs and sneakers seemed to be the summer uniform of the boys and girls, she thought.

As she turned from the stove, her robe swirled and her thighs were exposed briefly. But Davy had seen her legs, and Molly noticed a quick flare of interest in his young eyes. She wondered what he would do if she untied the robe, let it hang open so he could see her in the panties, her tits pointing at him suggestively.

Sitting across the table from her son as they ate, she asked: "What are you doing today, honey?"

"Nothing," he replied.

"You mean you're going to stay home today?" she asked, pleased. "With me?"

Davy nodded.

This was a change, she knew. Davy usually couldn't wait to finish breakfast and leave, going off and doing whatever it was he did with his friends around the neighborhood.

"What brought this on, baby?" she asked, finishing her coffee. "Don't tell me all your little friends are going out of town today."

"I don't know about them," Davy said, raising his eyes. For a moment they fixed on the strain of his mother's tits. The robe exposed the creamy, tantalizing valley between them. "I just feel like staying in today, Mother."

"You're not sick, are you?" she asked, unable to keep the sparkle out of her eyes.

Davy shook his head. He had lowered his gaze again to her tits. This time he looked boldly at them.

Molly found her breath catching in her throat. A warm flush crept over her face, down her neck. She sat still, feeling the heat growing between her thighs.

"Did you… find something different this morning?" she managed to ask, her voice low.

Davy nodded.

"Do you mind?"

His eyes came up to hers, and they gazed at each other for a long time.

"No," he finally said, softly. "How long have you known, Mother?"

"All along," she said, stretching the truth.

Suddenly Davy giggled. "What's funny?" she asked. "Nothing," he said. "Just… golly, Mother."

Molly reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. Her eyes were moist, a nervous smile playing about her full lips.

"Did you mind?" she asked again.

"Mind what, Mother?"

"That I changed… panties," she said, her voice throaty.

Davy's young eyes flared hotly as a grin spread over his face. He turned his hand beneath hers, and they held hands tightly across the table.

"I liked it, Mother," he said, his voice going from high to low, as it usually did when he was excited. "Why did you do it?"

"You like my panties, don't you, baby?" she asked. "What do you do with Mother's panties, anyway?"

"I… like to feel them," he said shyly. "And smell them?" she asked, unable to resist.

Davy nodded his head, lowering his eyes shyly for the first time.

Molly stood up and moved around the table to her son's side. She placed his head against her stomach, hugging him there, brushing his hair.