Kathy Andrews: Mom_s wet panties

Joyce Martin held her son's hand as they walked along the dark street. They could have taken a taxi, but the night was warm and perfect for a walk.

Jerry had been with his friend, Tony, a few blocks from his own home. And, after thinking it over, Joyce had decided to get him. Jerry was still much too young to be out so late by himself, although he didn't think so.

She squeezed his hand affectionately, looking down at his handsome young face as they passed beneath a street lamp. He looked so much like his deceased father it was sometimes painful for Joyce to look at the boy.

She had enjoyed fucking with her husband, and it still tormented her even when sleeping. She had always been an intensely erotic type of woman, and there was nothing she and her husband had not tried and enjoyed. Widowed a year ago, Joyce found only recently that her thoughts had turned to Jerry, imagining him between her legs, his cock pumping into her always hot and wet cunt, fucking her the way her husband had fucked her.

She had tried to rid herself of these lewd thoughts by finger-fucking herself to a series of orgasms that left her feeling wrung out and totally satisfied.

Jerry was old enough now, she was certain, to enjoy a good fucking with a woman who knew how to take, care of his cock. The fact that she thought woman instead of girl gave her the inkling of a desire she had been trying to suppress… suppress because she thought of herself as that woman.

Even holding his hand this way, her hip brushing against him occasionally, sent ripples of steaming hunger through her puffy cunt. As soon as she had taken his hand when they left the home of his friend, Joyce had become aware of how wet her cunt had become. The crotch of her panties seemed soaked as her pussy seeped, her clit so distended she wished she could rip her panties off; the pressure of them against her cunt was unbearable.

They were still a few blocks from home when Joyce felt the urge to piss. She tried to control it, but the more she did, the greater the urge. Lately, when she was aroused, this desire to piss had become stronger. Only the day before, thinking of fucking her son, she had wanted to piss so badly she had actually come as she sat on the toilet, pissing a golden stream into the water, hearing it tinkling. That had never happened to her before, and she had never played pissing games with her husband. It was one of the few things they had not gotten around to by the time of his death.

She gave a soft moan as a quick squirt of piss slipped from her cunt. She had been unable to prevent it, and now she could feel warm piss on her inner thighs. It felt sensual as her thighs rubbed together, making her cunt boil all the more. Joyce was not really surprised at her reaction… not after the day before. She squeezed her son's hand tighter, bringing the back of it along her thigh in a slow swinging motion. They were in shadows now, and Joyce began looking for someplace she could piss. She knew she would be pissing in her panties long before they got home. The only answer was to piss in a dark corner someplace. She didn't want to arrive home with piss running down her thighs, Jerry maybe noticing it, making fun of her or something.

They were in a residential section, about two blocks from home. Joyce noticed an older home setting about thirty feet from the sidewalk. It had an old-fashioned porch with a white painted railing, and what looked to be a porch swing. There was some shrubbery near the porch, but not enough to conceal her. The house was dark, and the for sale sign on the lawn convinced her she could perhaps piss on the porch, out of sight.

She paused, still holding her son's hand.

"Jerry, don't you dare laugh at me, but I have got to pee so badly. I can't wait until we get home, so I'm going to use that porch."

"Go ahead, Mother," he said. "I won't laugh. I know how it is when you gotta go. I'll wait here for you."

"No, come with me, honey," she said, her voice taking on a lower, throaty quality. "It's kind of dark up there and I'm a fraidy cat."

Jerry went willingly up the sidewalk, walked onto the porch, and saw the old-fashioned porch swing hanging there. Joyce looked for a dark area, but the only place dark enough was behind the swing.

She whispered to her son: "Sit on the swing, honey. I'll go behind it, but I want you close to me."

As her son sat on the swing, Joyce slipped behind it, already lifting her skirt. Jerry caught a flash of his mother's long, lovely thighs before she disappeared behind him. Joyce lifted her skirt to her waist, sliding a finger into the crotch of her soaked panties, pulling it aside as she squatted. A soft moan of relief from her as she began to piss. The hissing sound seemed loud in the dark stillness. Joyce knew her son could hear it as well. She was not surprised to find her cunt pulsating as she pissed, and the sensation of an orgasm bubbled about her clit.

She looked up to see her son stating at her over the back of the porch swing. She gasped, but with embarrassment. She gasped because she almost came. Although it was too dark for her son to see her cunt as she pissed, they could see into each other's eyes, see the interest and heat they both were feeling.

"It feels good," she whispered. "I couldn't have held it much longer. Don't look at me, honey."

But Jerry looked, trying to peer between her knees, trying to see his mother's cunt. His cock had become very hard inside his pants when he heard her pissing. He was pressing his hand hard against his cock-bulge. Although Joyce was unaware that her son had a hard-on, she felt the tingling in her cunt as she pissed. The fact that he stared at her, whether he could see her pussy or not, started her flesh shivering with a desire that became very strong. A soft moan came from her mouth as a mild orgasm shot through her cunt, and she was still pissing a strong stream.

Joyce felt she would piss for hours, but she finally finished. She stood up, letting the crotch of her panties slide back over her cunt. Before she smoothed her skirt down, a passing car's lights illuminated her briefly. Jerry saw his mother's sleek thighs and the bottom of her panties before the lights moved away. That brief glimpse had caused his cock to throb against his hand.

"Oh, you didn't see me, did you?" Joyce asked. "Those damned lights!"

Jerry didn't answer; he felt excitement bubbling through his cock and balls, and pressed his hand hard against them. Joyce, smoothing her dress over her hips, came around the side of the swing as Jerry got to his feet. Instead of moving off the porch, they stood looking at each other in the darkness. Something was happening to them, a tension Joyce didn't want to break. She caught her son's hand in hers as they stood close, facing each other. Joyce listened to her son's heavy breathing, and knew he had, become excited. She didn't know if it was the brief peek he'd had, or because of listening to her piss. But she did know that the heavy way he was breathing meant he was exited, and probably had a hard on.

Neither spoke, Joyce felt her cunt become fiery, the hair-lined cunt lips pulsating inside her panties. Even she wasn't aware of bringing her son's hand between her legs until she pressed the back of it against her cunt through her dress. The only response Jerry gave was a gasping sound, a sound that turned to a moan as Joyce pressed his hand more firmly against her cunt. She turned her son's hand, curling his fingers between her, thighs until she had him cupping her fiery pussy. Holding her son's hand tightly against her cunt, Joyce gripped his shoulder with her other hand, her face moving slowly toward his. She had to lean down a bit, and brushed her lips across Jerry's. Jerry kept his hand on his mother's cunt, feeling the searing heat through her panties and dress. Joyce moaned as she kissed her son, arching her hips into his palm, twisting slightly.