Kathy Andrews - A ball with mother

Then Marla screamed. Bob and Sally darted away from the door swiftly, making a great deal of noise.

But Marla was seized by her fiery orgasm and didn't hear them. Her legs became weak, and she finally squatted above the mirror again, gasping heavily, her finger no longer inside her cunt. She watched her pussy pulsate and drip for a while longer, letting strength return to her shaking body.

Marla had not given much attention to her son and daughter in the past few months. She noticed nothing, really. Her fantasies took up most of her time, and even when Bob and Sally were around, watching television or playing some game, she was hardly aware of them.

But this evening, she noticed they weren't around and she became curious.

She heard their voices from Sally's bedroom. Sally's door was closed, and Marla pressed her ear to it.

"Sweet pussy," she heard Sally saying.

A flush came over Marla's face. It was not the flush of shame or embarrassment, but the flush of quickly rising desire.

"You're supposed to wiggle, Sally," she heard her son say.

"Okay," came Sally's voice.

"Now you say it." Bob said, his voice low. "Sweet pussy," Marla heard her daughter's voice. "You hot, sweet cunt! You need a hard cock, you hot cunt."

Marla turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

Sally was standing over a hand mirror similar to her own, with her dress about her waist. Sitting on his sister's bed, Bob was watching. Sally's tight panties clung to her ass, and both she and her brother were looking at the reflection of her cunt, only Bob was lifting his eyes to the front of his sister's panties as often as he looked into the mirror.

Marla's hand moved to her throat, her eyes wide. She saw the bulge of her son's cock inside his pants, and there was a lurching, sucking feeling in her cunt.

Bob jumped, seeing his mother in the doorway.

Sally turned quickly, shoving her skirt down as she faced her mother.

Marla started to say something; she swallowed, looking at her son, who was trying to cover up his hard-on, then at the mirror on the floor. She saw her daughter's reflection in it, the crotch of Sally's panties.

Sally's giggle broke the tension.

"Oh, God!" Marla said throatily.

"You do it, Mother," Sally said, not in the least embarrassed.

"But… not in front of Bob," Marla managed to get out. "Not in front of anyone."

"Well," Sally replied, lifting her pretty face almost as a challenge, "I do."

Marla stared at her daughter, then at her son. She couldn't say anything. Sally was right. She did it, and they had seen her do it. She had no right to say a word. She turned and left.

In the living room, Marla tried to sort out the whirling thoughts in her mind, but the vision of her daughter with her skirt at her waist, and of her son's cock pressing at his pants, refused to leave her mind.

She wondered how often they had watched her, what they had seen, and what their thoughts were.

"Are you mad at us, Mom?"

Marla looked up and saw her son entering the room. Her eyes went immediately to the front of his pants. She didn't see a hard-on, but there was a lovely lump there. Behind him Sally peered at her.

Marla shook her head.

"Well, you shouldn't be, Mother," Sally said, walking past her brother and flouncing into a chair, drawing her feet up and crossing them. Her slim thighs were showing as she tucked her skirt between them, looking at her mother. "Why get mad at us for doing what you do?"

"I'm not… I'm not mad," Marla replied. "I think I understand it."

Bob sat down on the floor near his sister, lifting one knee and pulling it to his chest.

"I know you two have watched me," Marla went on in a low voice. "Hearing you, seeing the mirror, is enough to tell me that. Any other mother would probably be very angry with you, but I understand."

Sally and Bob said nothing. They sat and listened to their mother.

"Do you have something to say, Sally?"

"I think Dad was a fool, Mother," Sally replied.

She had her hands between her crossed thighs, and it looked to Marla as if her daughter was cupping her concealed cunt.

"He had it made, didn't he? I mean, that's what men want, right? You gave him everything, made all his dreams come true, and he walked out on us. See, be was a fool."

Marla watched her daughter's hands, suspecting Sally was creating pressure upon her cunt, perhaps trying to make herself come. She glanced down at her son, who rested his chin on his uplifted knee. He wasn't looking up at her, Marla noticed, but at her knees.

Glancing down, she saw that her knees were about six inches apart. She wondered if her son was seeing under her skirt, between her thighs, perhaps her panties. The idea sent a ripple of excitement through her. She had the urge to swing her knees wide-open, give him a good long look at her panties.

She wondered if her son was like she was, like his sister was showing herself to be. After all, he did watch his sister imitating her with the mirror. The idea sent a shudder through her. Not a shudder of revulsion but one of excitement.

"What do you know about men, what they want?" she asked her daughter. "You've never gone out on a date yet."

"I know what I want," Sally replied, with a soft giggle of lewdness. "And if I want it, I'm sure the guys want it, too."

Marla gazed at her daughter. Sally's green eyes seemed alive with fire.

"And you, Bob?" Marla asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Bob's eyes burned, and without any hesitation, he blurted, "I wanna do it, Mom. I wanna do everything you and Sally do."

Marla trembled, her cunt pulsating with more wildness than ever.

Marla wanted to ask what Sally and Bob had been doing with each other. The idea they might be fucking sent chills of bubbling delight through her. Even if they were just touching each other – Sally jacking her brother off, Bob fingerfucking his sister, it was enough to make Marla's pussy spasm with wet heat.

She gazed at her daughter's hands, and saw the slight movement. Sally was indeed rubbing at her cunt, feeling it through her dress and panties. She gazed openly, significantly, and Sally knew her mother was watching her hands. Marla smiled as she glanced back at her daughter.

Encouraged by her mother's expression, Sally pushed her fingers hard into her cunt, a soft moan coming from her. Bob, hearing his sister moan, glanced up. He saw where Sally's hands were, and looked back at his mother.

Marla's eyes flashed and she nodded her head.

"You can, too, baby," she whispered. "It's okay if you do it, too. I know what it's like. I told you, remember?"

Bob cock strained at his pants, outlined in hardness. Marla stared at it, licking her lips, swallowing. She was anxious for her son to touch his cock, to rub it while she watched. She wanted to see her son and daughter play with themselves, enjoy being with them the way she fantasized being with others, all of them as hot and eager as she. She didn't want her son or daughter to feel ashamed of their desires, nor be tormented because they couldn't get satisfaction, relief, from the terrible pressure. She wanted them to be happy and satisfied, even in their sexual desires – especially in their sexual desires.

Sally was openly rubbing at her cunt now, but she still had her skirt and panties between it and her hand. She was starting to breathe faster, her eyes taking on a glazed expression, her pouting lips parted. Her daughter was eagerly touching her cunt, but Bob didn't seem ready yet.

"Bob, I can see how hard you are," Marla said in a thick voice. "I can see you're very excited. Look at your sister; Sally isn't shy."

Bob turned his head, seeing his sister rubbing her hand up and down her crotch. When he turned back to his mother, Marla had opened her knees more, and he found he could see the creamy inner flesh of her thighs, with the shadow of her panties under her skin. He stared a long moment, then looked at his mother's face.