It started the day she got a raise. She came home so happy, she wanted to celebrate. After all, it wasn't just the raise, it was her independence she was celebrating. Ever since her divorce, doubt had nibbled at the corners of her mind. Could she make it on her own? Could she earn enough to support herself and her 18-year-old son? Would her ex's parting words prove true, "You're too stupid to ever earn a decent living." Well, she hadn't been too stupid, and now she had a raise, and now, she wanted to celebrate.
She opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a big glass. She called in Ricky and poured him a glass too. She wanted to share her good fortune with someone, and her son was handy. Together they sipped wine, laughed, and talked about how to spend the extra cash. Nothing frivolous. It wasn't that much money. She hadn't won the lottery. But the money would pay for a luxury now and then. That made them both happy. Too happy. One bottle led to a second, and by then, neither of them really wanted dinner. They toasted and planned and got more drunk.
Until Ricky passed out.
She wasn't quite sure when it happened. One moment, he seemed fine, and the next he was slumped in his chair, his body sprawled, his legs sticking out his gym trunks, his mouth slack and open. She knew he had passed out. She had seen that often enough, and it was her job to try and wake him, get him to bed. She grabbed his arm and talked to him, but he wouldn't rouse. He simply sat there inert but still handsome. That was one gift she couldn't deny her ex. His good looks had transferred to his son. The look softened her for a moment, and a pang of regret shot through her. They had had good times. They had had fun. And in bed...well, she had never been disappointed there. Maybe that was the part she missed most. She missed those sweaty sessions between the sheets. Grabbing him, stroking him, holding....
She involuntarily looked at Ricky, at his crotch. Was he endowed like his father? Had that been passed along too? She looked and wondered and fought the urge to check. God, what if he was, what then? Had she been sober, she probably would have laughed and gone to bed, but she wasn't sober. She was full of confidence and wine, and he was passed out. Perhaps she should check him out. Who would ever know? No one. She laughed as she sank to her knees in front of him. If she did this right, he would never even suspect.
She pulled open a leg of his trunks and pushed her hand up his thigh. A nice, athletic thigh. She pushed past his boxers and found his penis. Yes, it was much like his father's. She wondered if she could make it hard.
She stroked him, lightly, the way she knew his father liked it. She wondered if he could even get it up while passed out. She supposed he could. Didn't men get hard and soft during the night while they slept? Didn't it have a mind of its own? She stroked a bit more, and she was rewarded. She felt it start to expand, which emboldened her. She rubbed a bit harder and squeezed, pulling it down his thigh and toward her. God, it was filling rapidly, getting hard in her hand. She giggled. God, if anyone could see her. She pushed away the thought and pushed up his shorts, exposing the head that was sooo soft and yet hard. She stroked and watched it grow, and she knew he was bigger than his father. Bigger, harder too from what she could tell. And he looked...pretty.
She had never really studied a penis before. She supposed it was because most men didn't really want it studied when it was in that state. They wanted to use it. But if they knew how good it looked to women, they would be less insistent on using it and more amenable to letting women stare and study and get aroused by the mere sight.
She studied it, and it reminded her of a snake, a white snake in a tutu—god, what a thought that was, like it was some kind of dancer. It was wearing a collar that she touched lightly, running her finger along it. What purpose did that serve? Designed to please a woman, make her want sex more? She supposed everything about it was designed to please a woman, make mating more pleasurable. If it felt good, wouldn't a woman be more receptive? Wouldn't that assure the propagation of the species? Stiff with something to stimulate a woman, yes, that was what it was all about.
And this one was full and pink and as hard as she had ever seen one. But despite the hardness, the skin was soft. She could feel his heart beating through the blood pumping through it. She concentrated on it for a moment. His heart was pumping right along, young and strong. What a wonderful thing to have, a young heart and an erection like this. Wow, no wonder the young were envied. She ran a nail over his head and felt it shiver. She thought she might be able to study it for hours, but that would be crazy. No, she had to end her study before he woke or something happened. She didn't want a problem. She leaned forward and kissed the tip, lightly, tenderly. Then, she pulled down his shorts and stood. He slept so peacefully. Her eyes wandered down to the snake in his shorts. She resisted the temptation and went off to her room.
But she didn't sleep, not at first. She lay still as the snake vision played across her mind. She found it incredibly stimulating as she supposed she was designed to do. As sleep stole over her, she smiled.
In the morning, she found Ricky in his bed, which meant he had awakened during the night. As she woke him, she wondered if he was hard under the covers, half wanting to check. He groaned and moaned, but she woke him anyway and went down for coffee. She was sipping when he walked in, ready for school. With a kiss on her cheek, he was gone, but not before the snake vision flashed in her brain. A vision, she didn't banish right away.
Work was work, and despite the stress and her wishes, she found herself reliving the night before at moments. She didn't do it on purpose, but she couldn't help remembering. She remembered how it looked and felt, how she made it hard and ready. She didn't dwell on the images, but she couldn't quite banish them either. Not even at lunch with Denise.
Denise was another divorcee, but Denise was different in that she claimed to date very young men. 'Barely legal' was her way of describing them. She said they had huge advantages over older men. They got hard easily, had great stamina, and loved sex. If they came too quickly, well, that was a hazard that could be overcome by making them do it twice. They recovered quickly. Also, she said that if she could give them their first blow job, she owned them. They would do anything for the second one. While Denise described her latest conquest, Lori thought about the snake. Were young men really so good? She didn't know, and more than likely she would never find out.
After work, she called home. Ricky was going to a party with his friend Todd, so Lori decided to go to a movie with Denise. After, they stopped for a drink, and Denise flirted with the young waiter. Lori was a bit put off, but Denise was in her element, half seducing the young man. He was cute and maybe in good shape, but he certainly wasn't buff like Ricky. Lori was willing to bet he wasn't hung like Ricky either. Why did that vision keep inserting itself into her mind? Why was she dwelling on it? She wasn't. At least she told herself she wasn't.
A message waited for her at home. Ricky was staying the night with Todd. She brushed her teeth, slipped into bed and entertained the snake vision for only a moment before she went to sleep.
Saturday meant laundry, which she started with the usual lack of enthusiasm. While sorting, she came across the shorts Ricky had worn the night she touched him, and by chance she noticed a stain, a stain she recognized. Every wife knew that stain, that male stain. It was as clear as day. Ricky had had a dream, and the dream had led to ejaculation, and this was the result. She couldn't help but wonder if she had had anything to do with it. Had her handling him caused the dream? Or was it the wine? She wondered, and as she wondered the vision invaded her mind. With the vision came a wave of heat. The idea that she had caused him to...well, the idea floated her boat as the kids liked to say. With a last look, she tossed the shorts into the washer. Did she possess that kind of power?
After laundry, she went outside to work in her garden. The work was something she enjoyed, and she was on her hands and knees in the bed when she glanced over her shoulder and found Ricky looking at her. He grinned as if he had just walked up, but she wondered if he had been back there for a bit, looking at her, admiring her ass? Had he? And if he had, why was that exciting too? She drove the thought from her mind as she told him to cut the lawn. He stripped off his shirt as he went to the garage, and she admired his body. Tanning while mowing was his motto. She finished and went inside.
As she sipped lemonade, she watched him mow. Back and forth, green grass spewing out, he looked very good to her. The snake vision popped into her mind, the heat rippled. She found herself wondering if she had caused him to dream. Why did she think of that? Shaking her head, she went to fold laundry.
She was delivering the laundry when he came out of the shower in nothing but a towel. He scampered into his room but not before she checked out his 'package', a package she was familiar with. She chided herself for even looking, but she couldn't help herself. The vision, it was the vision that drove her. She drove the desire to invade his room and disappeared into her own. How had she managed to be there right when he came out of the shower? Chance? She told herself she hadn't planned it.
She half expected him to 'happen' along when she emerged from her shower in her robe, but he wasn't there. She wasn't disappointed. How could she be? That would be crazy. What was she expecting, a peeping son?
They met in the kitchen and exchanged plans. He was going to a party with Todd, his friend. She was going out with Denise. They would meet back home later. Fair enough.
Lori ended up at a dance place, where Denise fawned over young men and older men plied Lori with drinks. She accepted the drinks, danced a little, and turned down the offers for something more. A few sweaty minutes in the parking lot or with someone with beer breath wasn't her idea of a 'good time'. A couple of them rubbed their hips on her, and once she detected an erection, and she found herself comparing it to Ricky's. Not even close. Ricky was so much bigger and harder. The vision filled her head even as she danced.
Denise picked up a likely young man, a kid in Lori's eyes, which gave Lori a reason to go home early. The place held nothing she wanted. Home was actually welcome as she tossed her keys on the table. Why did she let Denise drag her to places where the footwear of choice were cowboy boots? She laughed and poured herself a glass of wine, and was halfway through it before Ricky hobbled in.
Todd supported him, and pain filled Ricky's face. "Ankle," Ricky said as he hopped past, straight to his room. She followed and watched Todd help Ricky into bed. He moaned as Todd jammed a pillow under the offending ankle. Then, with a guilty smile, Todd vanished, leaving Ricky to tell the tale. They had been playing pickup basketball, and Ricky had been showing off, dunking the ball. He came down on someone's foot, and the ankle folded. No one's fault, just happened. Todd had wrapped the ankle and given him some ibuprofen, but it still throbbed. But nothing to worry about really, just a bad sprain.
She retrieved a bag of ice and the pain killer she had taken when she broke her foot the year before. The prescription called for a single pill, but he wanted two. He was bigger he argued. Besides, he needed sleep. She acquiesced and watched him down the pills. He was wearing baggy gym shorts, and she half peeked up his thigh. Was the snake up there? Shaking the thought from her mind, she patted him on the head and left. What a night. First a bunch of loser cowboys and now an ankle.
She watched TV for an hour before she checked on him. The ice bag had fallen to the side, and his ankle had slipped off the pillow, but he was asleep, so asleep he didn't make a sound or move when she lifted his ankle for replace the pillow. So asleep he didn't flinch when she ran her hand up his leg. So asleep, he didn't stir when she slipped her fingers beneath his shorts. So asleep, he didn't quiver when her fingers found the snake.
More bold than before, she pushed up his shorts and had him aroused in what seemed moments. And just as before, she found herself staring at him, at his size, at his stiffness. What a wonderful erection he had. She stroked and felt and squeezed. She touched that sensitive place underneath the collar or tutu as she liked to call it. She rubbed it with her palm and rubbed her fingers across the top, across the hole. For some reason, it felt wonderful to handle him, to touch and feel and use. Why was that? He was her son for crying out loud, why did she like touching him?
Because he was a man.
That simple truth struck her full in the psyche. She was programmed to like men, all men, all stiff erections that could impregnate her. Her genes were the reason and the cause. She couldn't help it. There was nothing taboo about her DNA, just her thoughts. She would like handling all men, all sperm making machines. But she especially loved this one. This was the nicest one she had ever seen. Big, straight, as hard as steel, it teased her in a way she couldn't explain. She wanted it, wanted in ways a mom shouldn't think about. And that caused her to pull down his shorts and hide the snake but not before she took the tip in her mouth and sucked just a bit. The desire to do more raced through her, but she stopped herself. A last lick and down with the shorts and out the door before she could no longer control herself.
That night, she masturbated for the first time in a long time. She closed her eyes and envisioned the snake and rubbed herself until an orgasm rippled through her. It felt soooo good, and it was because of the snake. She loved the moistness between her legs and licked her lips and fell asleep.
Sunday was a slow day. She woke, fixed coffee and breakfast and served Ricky in his room. She unwrapped his ankle to check the swelling, and she wondered about the other swelling he had. She wondered if he had had another wet dream. She was half tempted to chase the snake in its lair, but she couldn't find the nerve. Instead, she rewrapped his bruised ankle and left before the wave of heat caused her to do something really dumb.
The rest of the day, she did some chores, left to shop for groceries and generally took care of Ricky. He couldn't really put any weight on his foot, so he watched TV in his room. She avoided him for the most part. The snake vision appeared every time she was near, and she didn't need that distraction. Twice she helped him into the bathroom. Arm around his waist, supporting him, she wondered if she could cop a feel somehow. She considered offering to hold if for him while he went. Here, dear, let me point that thing. She almost laughed at the idea, perhaps would have laughed had not the vision popped into her head. She wouldn't be aiming just him, she would be aiming the snake. Luckily, Ricky could handle that chore on his own.
After dinner, she asked if he wanted something for pain, and he said he would take one, which left her with a dilemma. Two pills had knocked him out completely. Would one? She debated for a moment before she emptied a single capsule into a dish of ice cream. The other she gave him with water. Then, as he gobbled the ice cream, she went to the family room to wait.
The next hour passed very slowly for her. She tried TV and reading, but every few seconds her mind focused in on the vision, and she found herself wondering if he was asleep yet. She tried to keep her anxiety in place, but it wasn't easy. Something inside her had changed, and she wasn't as cool as before. At the end of an hour, she tiptoed down the hall and peeked.
He was asleep.
She didn't presume he was ready for her manipulations, so she tried to wake him. He was sound asleep, under the influence of drugs, and that brought a smile to her face. With familiar speed, she reached up his shorts to coax out the snake. She felt bold and breathless as she stroked him to hardness. She pulled it out as far as possible and played with it afresh, touching and stroking and pulling and squeezing. The snake in a tutu looked delicious to her. She didn't care how or why, just that it did. She liked it, loved it, felt warm and tingly with it. With a sudden thought, she pulled up her shirt and exposed her breast. Delicately, she rubbed the snake across her nipple, and it made her shiver. She let the snake feast on her breast, touching it everywhere, teasing the nipple until it was as hard as the snake itself. She had always wanted to do that with a man, but no man had ever allowed her such freedom. No man had ever managed to hold off long enough to let her play. It was all business with them, not the stuff of fantasy. Her nipple ached and her body burned as she took him in her mouth.
Where she had been timid the other times, this time, she pleased herself on him. Sucking, licking, taking him deep, she used the snake over and over. She loved the steady pulse of blood along it, how it filled her mouth, how it made her want more. She liked the feel of the skin on her tongue, the tutu on her lips, the texture when she nibbled. This was exactly how she wished she had been introduced to sex, to men. She would have loved to have had one to experiment with, to practice on, to explore at her leisure. Because having it this way was better than any way she had ever tried. Being able to gnaw him to her content proved more stimulating than anything.
She glanced over and stopped. The window reflected a woman, and Lori hardly recognized herself. The woman in the glass with one bare breast and protruding nipple wantonly sucked a large male member, and she had the disheveled look of a hussy, a woman in need of what the member had to offer. That woman, what would anyone say if they saw that woman, that mother doing this to her son? What sort of creature had she become? She was shocked. Lust had transformed her into the woman in the glass, into the woman in need, the woman full of desire. Was that really her? Was she really doing this to Ricky? What had she become?
She started to pull away, and at that moment, he began to shoot. She shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. Hot, thick man syrup was pumping into her mouth, stopping her for a moment. But just a moment. Forgetting the woman in the glass, she sucked hard and pumped with her hand and took every drop of jism he possessed. She held him till the snake stopped spitting, till it began to shrivel into a worm. She held him till she was certain he had no more, and then with triumph, she swallowed. He couldn't see, he would never know, but she did, and she liked it. She loved it. She couldn't remember a better completion to the act. Damn, it was the hottest thing she had ever allowed herself to experience.
Trembling, she returned the shriveled snake to its and den, adjusted herself, and slid off the bed. She wasn't sure she could walk, but she managed. She drifted down the hall to her room where she opened a bureau drawer and fished in the back where her fingers found an old vibrator she had bought when first divorced. It hadn't brought the kind of satisfaction she had needed, and even now, it wouldn't work. It needed new batteries. But she didn't care. She stripped naked and lowered herself to the bed and then she used the vibrator as she had wanted to use the snake. Knowing Ricky slept, she moaned and called out his name and rode the vibrator until perspiration coated her skin. Eyes closed, picturing the snake, she worked and worked until the orgasm exploded inside her. And as soon as it subsided, she went back to work until a second one nipped on the heels of the first. It felt so good. Not as good as real but good.
At lunch the next day, Denise crowed about her latest conquest, a 20 year old she had picked up at a coffee shop. She made him lick her till she came and then sucked him off. The thing was he didn't look 20; he looked more like 17 which was a real turn on. He looked younger than Ricky. As Denise spoke, Lori pictured Ricky, that wonderful erection that she had used. Ricky was so much better than the boys Denise encountered. Denise laughed and asked if Lori were ill, as her cheeks were flushed. Lori demurred, unable to tell Denise the real source of her blush. If she only knew.
When she reached home, Ricky was hobbling around the house, and it was clear he wouldn't be taking any pain medication that night. When she asked how he slept, he gave her a sardonic grin. He had slept well, but his dreams were weird. How weird? He wouldn't say, but he blamed the drugs. Another reason not to take anything before bed. She considered drugging him again, but that seemed too extreme. Pain medication for his ankle was one thing. Pain medication to reduce him to her plaything was quite another. She had to draw a line somewhere.
After dinner, she busied herself with housework, something to keep her mind from dwelling on the snake in a tutu, anything to keep her mind from dwelling. When he kissed her good night, her body shivered. She could have reached out and touched that with which she was now familiar. But she didn't. She held together. And later, when she went to bed, she replaced the batteries in the vibrator. While it didn't bring the satisfaction of the night before, it allowed her to close her eyes and relive her charming of the cobra. That's how she saw it, charming the cobra.
The vision stuck with her over the next week. While not on her mind constantly, it popped to the front at odd moments. During work, at lunch with Denise, Lori would be perfectly attuned to what was going on, until the vision burst into her consciousness. She would feel a rush, a wave of heat, a desire she thought she had left behind years before. She always managed to tamp down the memory, but she couldn't erase it. The snake lived in her mind now. She couldn't eradicate it.
And she found herself sneaking peeks at Ricky. When he emerged from a shower, at night lying on the couch, in the morning when she woke him, she always managed to check the 'snake', to see if it was alive and well. She told herself she didn't do in on purpose, that she just happened along, but she knew that was a lie. Part of her planned the encounters all along. Part of her wanted to find a way to put him asleep and duplicate what she had done before. Yet, she couldn't find a way. She couldn't very well get him drunk every night. She had almost given up on ever playing with the snake again when she came upon the computer file.
She wanted to send an email to a friend, and when she tapped a key, the virus checker said she had an infected file. Did she want to delete it? Well, she did, but not before she read the file and determined what she was deleting. So, she opened the file and found a chat log, a file of online messaging. Pretty dull stuff, she thought, until she saw the screen names—SONSTROKE and SUBMOM. What was that all about? She started reading, and her eyes widened.
The log was a record of the online chat between SONSTROKE and SUBMOM, and the topic wasn't a medical condition or submarines. What these two talked about was incest, mother-son incest, and it wasn't just idle chat. This was obviously role play where SONSTROKE played the dominant son while SUBMOM played a passive mother. And what they described was sex in a way Lori had never dreamed of. What SUBMOM said she wanted done to her, and what SONSTROKE was willing to do constituted visions Lori had only heard about. The graphic descriptions sizzled on the screen as both SONSTROKE and SUBMOM responded to the play. Lori could almost hear the grunts and moans and screams as they took their sexual encounter higher and higher. It was as if she were peeping through a window at these two, until they both claimed an orgasm. What did that mean? Could they really masturbate while they chatted online? Was that possible? Lori licked her lips and read to the end, the really interesting part.
At the end, SONSTROKE and SUBMOM chatted about themselves. SONSTROKE claimed he was 18 and secretly lusted for his mom, who he thought was very sexy. Since he could never approach her, he played online with surrogate moms. SUBMOM told him to test the water. Did he peek, did he let his mom see him with an erection, did he flirt, did he touch and hug? If he was serious, he would try all those things, because maybe, just maybe, his mom thought about him too.
Lori pushed back from the computer, blown away by what she had read. Was SONSTROKE her son, Ricky? Did he secretly lust for her? Did he get off online with women who held like fantasies? A vision invaded her mind. She pictured Ricky in front of the computer, naked, stroking himself for the woman on the other side of the electronic divide. She could see him jerking off while he chatted with SUBMOM and others like her, while he dreamed it was his own mom he was using.
She shook the vision from her mind. What did it mean? She deleted the file. She didn't want a virus or Ricky to know about it. If it was Ricky, then... She retreated to the kitchen and a glass of wine.
Over Merlot, she pondered her newfound knowledge. Did her son really desire her? Or was he playing some kind of game on the computer? First, was he SONSTROKE? Was the chat session really him? Could it be someone else? How could she know? How could she tell? And even if it was him, was he lying or telling the truth? What, if anything, was true about the chat log? Could it be some kind of imaginative role play? A joke? A way to get off? What? And how could she know? She pondered the problem even in bed while she used her vibrator.
The next day, she stayed late at work. Alone after everyone else had left, even Denise, Lori logged onto the network with trembling fingers. She would be KNOWINGMOM online. Once online, she began to search for SONSTROKE. She found him in a chat room titled CHATTING UP MOM. She stared at the screen a moment before she sent a message. Her heart pounded in her chest. Would he answer? If he did, then what? While she waited, she dialed her home phone. It rang and rang and rang and rang without the answering machine cutting in. That meant someone was using the phone line, generally that meant Ricky was online. It had happened before. Was he online as SONSTROKE? She shivered with anticipation. The screen lit up.
SONSTROKE: Hi, I'm Ricky, 18 m.
She swallowed hard and typed back.
KNOWINGMOM: Hi, I'm Denise, 38 divorced f.
SONSTROKE: have kids?
KNOWINGMOM: One, 18 son.
SONSTROKE: hi, mom, I'm 18 too. Is he good looking?
KNOWINGMOM: Very. Smart too.
SONSTROKE: Aren't we all...lol. Are you good looking?
KNOWINGMOM: I think so.
SONSTROKE: Does he?
KNOWINGMOM: I don't know. He never tells me.
SONSTROKE: I bet he thinks you are, but he's scared to say anything.
KNOWINGMOM: Why would he be scared?
SONSTROKE: he can't very well tell her he has the hots for her.
KNOWINGMOM: Is that what you have, the hots for you mom?
KNOWINGMOM: And did you tell her?
SONSTROKE: No...lol...I'm like your son. I can't say anything.
KNOWINGMOM: Do you think she wants you?
SONSTROKE: Not a chance. She barely looks at me.
KNOWINGMOM: You can't know till you ask.
SONSTROKE: I know. Have you peeked at your son?
KNOWINGMOM: No, not really.
SONSTROKE: Going to?
KNOWINGMOM: Maybe if he peeks at me.
SONSTROKE: lol I hear you. I peek sometimes, but she doesn't know.
KNOWINGMOM: Really? How do you manage that?
SONSTROKE: She doesn't know it, but when she comes out of the shower, she passes the mirror. From the hall, I have a perfect view for a second or two.
KNOWINGMOM: You're inventive.
SONSTROKE: Yeah, I peek then, I go jerk off. She really turns me on.
SONSTROKE: Yesssssssss. The other day, I came home and found her outside, working in the flower bed. I stood behind and just watched her ass. I wanted to come up behind her, pull down her shorts and do her right there.
KNOWINGMOM: Oh my.
Lori pushed back from the computer. She remembered working in the flower bed, glancing over her shoulder, spotting him. Had he been standing there wanting sex with her?
SONSTROKE: Does your son want you like that?
KNOWINGMOM: I have no idea.
SONSTROKE: Bet he does. And you want him.
KNOWINGMOM: How do you know that?
SONSTROKE: You wouldn't be chatting with me if you didn't. lol
KNOWINGMOM: And you wouldn't be chatting if you didn't want your mother?
SONSTROKE: Touche. I get hard just thinking about her.
KNOWINGMOM: What turns you on about her?
SONSTROKE: Everything. Nice tits, wonderful ass, sense of humor. I think she would be dynamite in bed.
KNOWINGMOM: Would you be?
SONSTROKE: I hope so.
KNOWINGMOM: What would you like done to you?
SONSTROKE: I have this fantasy. I'm in the hall, peeping. She comes out of the shower, and this time, she's not in her robe or a towel. This time, she's naked, still wet. She stands where I can see her and she pinches her nipples, rubs between her legs. She closes her eyes and whispers my name. Then, she looks in the mirror, and suddenly, I know she can see me, my hard cock in my hands. She smiles and waves me into her bedroom.
Lori watched the words stream across the screen, and each passing second seemed to make her hotter, sexier. She unbuttoned her blouse and reached inside to feel her breast through her bra. Something about this felt more true than true, something played on her desire.
SONSTROKE: She kisses me and pushes me to my knees in front of her. Then, she moves forward and orders me to lick her. I do what she says. I take her and spread her and lick while she stands over me. She tells me exactly where and how to lick or suck or nibble, whatever she wants. She grabs my head and holds me very still while she grinds against my face. All the while, she moans and orders and moves, slowly at first. She's so wet, she coats my face with juice, which makes me harder than ever. I can feel my erection bobbing in front of me, but she won't allow me to touch it.
The words mesmerized Lori. As she massaged herself, she stared and wondered how SONSTROKE had ever come up with such a detailed fantasy. He was describing the act in such detail she wondered if he had ever really done it. It was so good it turned her on, making her squirm in her chair. She could almost feel that tongue, that face, that thrill. She could almost see herself using him as he described. She could feel the tingle between her thighs.
KNOWINGMOM: Go on.
SONSTROKE: I know I'm not supposed to be doing this to my mom, but she wants it, and I want it, and it's there. She keeps telling me what a good son I am, what a wonderful son with a clever tongue, a son who knows how to please his mother. My erection throbs and quivers even as she keeps using my tongue. Her voice catches as she keeps moving against me, pushing herself on me, pushing me ever deeper. I do exactly as she tells me, down to every lick and nibble. I can feel her getting hotter and hotter. She begins to pump herself on my face, panting and urging, until she gushes, shooting juice all over me. I do nothing but let her cum, moaning all the time.
The words stopped, and Lori took a deep breath.
KNOWINGMOM: That's quite a fantasy.
SONSTROKE: Like it?
SONSTROKE: Want it?
SONSTROKE: I bet your son does too.
KNOWINGMOM: You think so?
SONSTROKE: Who wouldn't? LOL
KNOWINGMOM: And do you plan to tell your mother about these fantasies?
SONSTROKE: Maybe when I'm 60. Then, we can both laugh.
KNOWINGMOM: lol That would be funny.
SONSTROKE: What would you like to do to your son?
KNOWINGMOM: I think I'll save that for next time.
SONSTROKE: There'll be a next time?
KNOWINGMOM: Don't you want one?
SONSTROKE: Yessssss I love sitting here naked and chatting. Makes me hard.
KNOWINGMOM: As hard as watching mom in the mirror?
SONSTROKE: Nothing makes me that hard. lol I have to go. Mom should be home soon.
KNOWINGMOM: She's lucky to have such a loving son.
SONSTROKE: If she only knew. Bye
With that he was gone. Lori looked at the screen and quivered. What had she done? More, what had Ricky done? If it was Ricky, how could things ever be the same between them? Who was she kidding. Things were never going to be the same after she met the snake. She knew that. That desire wouldn't go away. The snake had her, possessed her to the point where she was doing cyber chat with a kid, maybe her own son! How had she ever managed to get this far into the morass?
When Lori reached home, she found Ricky in his room, reading. She asked him if he had been on the computer since she had tried to call. He said he had a little bit, but Todd had been on much longer. Todd? He needed to do some research.
As Lori fixed dinner, she considered what she knew. Had Todd been online as SONSTROKE, or was it Ricky? Or had neither been online as SONSTROKE? And if it had been Ricky, did that really mean he wanted his mom? Or was it all some elaborate game to make lonely older women feel wanted? Was that it, some kind of perverse bait and switch game?
What did she really know? Not much. She knew someone had chatted with her and turned her on in a way she hadn't known before. But as to whom that person was, she couldn't say. Worse, did she have any sure method of finding out? Before she did something she would regret for the rest of her life, she had to make certain the person at the other computer was who she thought it was. But how to do that? That was the rub.
At dinner, she tried to engage Ricky in chat, but while he answered her questions, he didn't offer much. It wasn't that he was guarded, more that he simply didn't lead the conversation anywhere. She asked about school and sports and girlfriends, but nothing put him in a loquacious mood. She couldn't very well ask about SONSTROKE or the snake. So, they made small talk.
After dinner and clean up, she went to take a shower. Dressed in a robe, she watched the mirror as she passed, and sure enough, at one point she could see into the hall. But he wasn't there. The hall was empty, and she wasn't sure if she was sad or happy about that. As she prepared for bed, she tried to dream up a way to determine if he was SONSTROKE or had any interest in her. How could she do that? She fell asleep still wondering.
The problem bugged her at work the next day, and by lunch time, she was no closer to a solution. She met Denise who inadvertently provided an answer.
Lori was half listening to Denise at lunch, but her attention jumped up a notch when Denise outlined how she discovered the identity of the person she was online with. We trade pictures, Denise said. Oh, I don't send him a real pic of me. I get one off the net and send it. Then, we arrange to meet, and if he matches his pic, I introduce myself. If not, I run. Denise laughed, you can't be too careful. Oh, I send him a pic that's not as pretty as me so he won't be disappointed if we meet.
Lori listened, wondering if she could follow Denise's lead. As long as she didn't provide her own picture, wasn't it worth an effort?
She stayed late again that night, long after everyone went home. She logged onto the net again, using her newfound name. She looked for SONSTROKE, but he wasn't there at first. Which was good. It gave her time to jump around the net, looking for a suitable picture she could include in email. She had found something when SONSTROKE: sent her a message.
KNOWINGMOM: Not really.
SONSTROKE: Want to play?
KNOWINGMOM: What did you have in mind?
SONSTROKE: How about your favorite fantasy.
KNOWINGMOM: I'm afraid I'd bore you.
SONSTROKE: I doubt that. C'mon, tell me.
She hesitated a moment.
KNOWINGMOM: I like to know who I'm chatting with. Do you have a pic?
She waited for the reply which wasn't instantaneous.
SONSTROKE: It's generally a bad idea to send out your pic on the net, but I trust you. Hold on.
Her heart began to pound inside her chest as she waited for the email. Would he really send a pic, and if he did, would it be Ricky? And if it was, did that mean? She couldn't keep her mind from leaping to conclusion after conclusion. What if, what if, what if...
The mail icon flashed on her screen, and she hesitated. Did she really want to know? Of course, she did. She opened the mail, and the face smiling at her was...unfamiliar.
Her smile disappeared. Her heart stopped pounding. Certainly, the young man on the screen was good looking, but he wasn't as handsome as Ricky. And he was a complete stranger.
SONSTROKE: Like the pic?
KNOWINGMOM: You're a handsome young man.
SONSTROKE: Thanks, mom. And that's not my best feature. LOL
KNOWINGMOM: I'm sure.
SONSTROKE: So, you going to share your pic?
KNOWINGMOM: Hold on.
She inserted the stolen picture into an email and sent it on its electronic way. Perhaps he wouldn't like the pic and would log off. Perhaps he wouldn't want to play. Yet, a part of her wanted to play, even if it wasn't Ricky on the other end. Part of her liked the idea of fantasizing about young men, especially if they wanted their mothers. She wasn't sure why that made her fingers twitch, but it did.
SONSTROKE: Hey, nice pic. You're quite the mom.
KNOWINGMOM: Thanks. I'm glad you like.
SONSTROKE: You mind if I cum all over my screen? LOL
KNOWINGMOM: Be my guest. Does it really turn you on?
SONSTROKE: Really, but tell me your favorite fantasy while I look into your eyes.
KNOWINGMOM: You're quite the charmer.
SONSTROKE: I know what I like.
KNOWINGMOM: I have this fantasy. It's Friday night and I'm home with my son. We're celebrating something, doesn't matter what. We're sipping wine, and I indulge him even if he's underage. But he's not accustomed to the wine, and he drinks a bit too much. He passes out in his chair.
SONSTROKE: go on.
KNOWINGMOM: I try to wake him, but he's out. I can't move him as he's too heavy. I'm about to head off to bed when I wonder about his tool. I mean, he's wearing gym shorts, and it's sort of there. I'm not ordinarily so bold, but I've been drinking. It enters my mind that his father was well endowed, and so he might be too. It's a playful thought, a curiosity. I wonder if I can even do anything about it. The wine is a bit too much, so I sink to my knees and reach up his shorts. He's not wearing underwear.
SONSTROKE: Lucky boy.
KNOWINGMOM: I'm surprised how easy it is to get him aroused, and yes, he is big, even bigger than his father. Before I know it, I've got a big, throbbing member half out of his shorts. I'm surprised and amazed and a bit turned on. What woman doesn't like to handle such a thing. I play with it and stroke it and study it. Most women don't get many opportunities to actually study one of these close up. They're for using, not studying, so this is a unique chance. So, I take my time, use my senses. It's more fun than I supposed, and he's so sound asleep, he doesn't even know. And of course, I have to taste.
SONSTROKE: of course.
KNOWINGMOM: He tastes good, clean, young. I'm surprised by how aroused I am. I lick and suck and take and feel, and all the time I'm getting hotter and hotter. He's oblivious to everything, which makes it easier in some ways. What would he do if he saw his mother wantonly sucking him? But it's simple now. I can do whatever I like, and I like taking as much of him as I can and doing it over and over. I can feel my body respond. My nipples harden and I grow moist, and I think I could bob up and down on this all night if I wanted. But a pang of guilt rips through me. This isn't the moral thing to do. That's clear. I'm out of bounds here. Even though I'm totally turned on, I start to pull away, and that's when he cums.
KNOWINGMOM: It takes me by surprise but only for an instant. As if expecting it, I suck hard and pump and get a mouthful of him. It's hot and salty and sticky and it's more than I've ever had before. I keep at him until he's completely drained, until he starts to soften. Then, I swallow it all, swallow it even though he won't know. Somehow, it's terribly satisfying to swallow it, as if it meets some personal goal. I almost laugh as I replace his tool back inside his shorts. I stand and kiss his cheek, knowing that he'll never know how much pleasure he just gave me. That's OK. It's my secret, and I can use it to do what I will need to do. And from then on, every time I look at him, I'll know what he carries around in his pants...and I'll smile.
SONSTROKE: wow, nice fantasy.
KNOWINGMOM: Thank you.
SONSTROKE: Sure wish I was your son. LOL
KNOWINGMOM: You could be.
SONSTROKE: Yeah, right. Say, do you ever meet guys from online?
She paused. She had never considered the question before. Denise was the only person she knew who had ever met anyone from online. While Denise had had some success—so she said—that didn't mean Lori would have any. Still, it might be fun to meet this young man. She wouldn't have to do anything. She could share a coke and a fantasy or two and leave it at that.
KNOWINGMOM: Why not?
SONSTROKE: Great. When and where?
They arranged to meet at the mall, in front of the record store. While they had photos, each would carry MacDonalds sack, not obvious but still unique. They would meet and chat and if things worked out...well, they wouldn't make plans before they met. She signed off feeling both excited and disappointed. SONSTROKE wasn't Ricky, but he was something, perhaps something she might have some fun with. Or was she beginning to see things as Denise did? She laughed as she walked out the door.
Ricky bubbled over dinner, telling her what a great practice he had, and that his ankle wasn't bothering him at all. She listened and asked about school, but all the time, her mind played over the meeting she had agreed to. A pang of buyer's remorse set in. What had she done? What had she agreed to? Despite the obvious thrill it gave her, was it really a smart thing to do? Well, no, not really, but she didn't have to do anything. She could show up, see who SONSTROKE was and call it a day. No harm in that. It was a very public place, so she didn't have that to fear, and she had never used her real name or any other private information. She was safe, as safe as she could be.
After dinner, she managed to be passing when Ricky emerged from his shower, and she noticed the 'package'. Despite the towel, a thrill rippled through her. She knew what the towel hid, and she knew she wanted it again. She had not used it so often as to be contemptuous of it. She somehow wished she could dream up a way to put him to sleep every night so she could play with it. That wasn't a responsible attitude, but desire sometimes overcame responsibility. She went to sleep wishing she could sneak into his room and use it for her pleasure.
All day at work, Lori's anxiety level heightened. As quitting time drew near and meeting time was minutes away, she fought the urge to chuck the whole enterprise and go straight home. While she thought it stupid to keep going, she wasn't about to chicken out. It might not come off as she wished, but nothing would happen if she didn't show up. That was clear. Still, she didn't want to play the game by the rules. She didn't have a MacDonalds sack, and she didn't park herself in front of the music store. Since she was early, she browsed among the clothes rack in a boutique across from the music store. She wasn't going to be too obvious. As she waited, she cycled opening lines through her head. What would she say to him? What should she say? She hadn't quite worked out a foolproof line when she spotted him—and she wanted to laugh.
The teenager with the MacDonalds sack was neither the boy in the picture nor a stranger. It was Todd. She chuckled. With Todd walked Ricky, but Todd had the sack. What a lark. She had been worried, and there was no reason. Todd was SONSTROKE, and although that disappointed her some, it was harmless. She would never do anything with Todd. That was insane. She shook her head and was about to turn for a side exit when Todd handed Ricky the sack. Todd slapped Ricky on the shoulder and moved off, leaving Ricky in front of the music store.
Ricky was SONSTROKE? Was that what she was supposed to believe? She stared, trying to read his face. She watched as he looked up and down the concourse, obviously looking for someone, waiting for someone. Was he waiting for KNOWINGMOM, the mom from the internet, a woman with a MacDonalds sack and a desire for teenage boys? Who else could he be waiting for? Her fingers quivered. Her knees felt weak. She clutched the rack to keep from falling. Ricky was SONSTROKE! The knowledge hit her like a hammer. Ricky was the boy with hots for his mom, the boy who dreamed of sex with his mom, the boy who aroused her over the internet. It was crazy, but it was true. Her Ricky, her son, the one she had had fun with when he was incapacitated. That boy wanted her. Oh my, what would she do with that? She didn't answer her own question. Instead, she reeled toward the exit and the escape it provided. She needed time to think.
Dinner proved a quiet affair. Lori was preoccupied, and Ricky seemed angry. She didn't ask why. She knew. No one like being stood up. As she rinsed the dishes, she wondered what she was going to do. On one hand, she should be excited. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. On the other hand, she couldn't very well admit she had seduced him online and then jilted him at the mall. And she couldn't just strip naked and walk into his room—or could she? No, no, that would be madness. She would have to have a reason for that sort of behavior. Reasons would lead to all sorts of stories and problems. What to do? She decided to think about it in the shower.
Although the shower felt great, it didn't provide any solutions.
She emerged in her robe and glanced in the mirror and almost fainted. She glimpsed Ricky in the hall, his penis in his hand, staring at the mirror, at her. She had forgotten that admission, and it floored her. It was exactly as SONSTROKE had said it was. Crazy but true.
She passed into her closet and changed into a filmy negligee. She came out and passed the mirror. Yes, he was still in the hall, and he was stroking that erection she knew so intimately. She paused in front of the mirror and rubbed her hands over her breasts. Fully aware that he watched, she rubbed her nipples to make them hard. Then, she bared one breast and tweaked the nipple for him. In the corner of her eye, she watched him jerking off, stroking, rubbing, practically drooling as he worked. She found she didn't need much in the way of touching. Sneaking glances at him furiously at work was more than enough to arouse her. And it wasn't just the sight of him, it was the knowledge that she drove him to this, she pushed him beyond control. She was the fuel for his lust. What woman didn't love the idea of driving a man to self-indulgence? What woman didn't want erections at the mere sight of her? Lori wanted to laugh, but she didn't dare. Instead, she bared her other breast and massaged it, knowing she was pushing Ricky past any point of redemption. It was one thing to accidentally arouse him, it was another to purposefully do it. As perspiration popped out on her forehead, she pinched her nipples hard and moaned. Then, she looked in the mirror.
The hall was empty.
Disappointment shot through her. Had she done something wrong? She covered herself and tiptoed out into the hall. She paused by the closed door to Ricky's bathroom and listened. Did she hear him panting? Was he completing the job he had started in the hall? She stopped breathing and listened, and yes, she could hear him. He was doing something physical, and it wasn't the tinkle of urine. The fire inside her flared again. She smiled and moved away, secure in the knowledge that he wanted her more than she had ever suspected. What did that do for her? It gave her control. She slipped her robe over her gown and went to the family room. Control was a wonderful thing to have.
A few minutes later, Ricky, flushed, grinned his way into the room. She knew why he smiled, but she said nothing. She had another little game she wanted to play.
"I was at the mall today," she said. "I saw Todd, but I didn't see you. Were you there?"
He hesitated a moment. "Yes, I was there. I didn't see you."
"What were you doing there?"
"Hanging with Todd."
"I wish I had known. You could have picked up a CD for me. There's a music store in the mall, isn't there?"
She could see his mind work, wondering. What did she know? What could she know? Nothing, she could know nothing.
"Yes," he said. "The music store is at the end, by the boutique."
"Now, I remember. So, what did you and Todd do?"
"Nothing. Grabbed a burger."
"Sure you weren't peeking?"
"At the pretty girls that are always there. Sure you weren't trying to find a date?"
"Oh, mom, mall bimbos aren't the sort of girls you want to date."
"Can I ask you a question about Todd?"
"Does he sneak peeks at his mother?"
The blood drained from Ricky's face. "I...I...what?"
"Well, I spoke to his mother, and don't you dare say anything about this, and she thinks he tries to catch her coming out of her shower or something. Is he the kind of boy who would do that?"
"I don't know. He never says anything about it."
"I mean, it's sort of flattering, but it's a bit disconcerting too. You understand?"
He blushed, a deep red blush. "He's never done it while I'm there."
"Good. Because we both know what he would do after he peeked, right?" She laughed. "I imagine all you boys do it."
"It's ok, it's natural. Didn't they teach you about it in health class?"
"And it's safer than real sex. No diseases or pregnancies, right?"
He nodded, fidgeting all the time, which made her feel more powerful than ever. For some reason, she enjoyed his bit of discomfort.
"I'll give you a bit of advice. If you're going to do it often, use lotion. You don't want to make it sore."
"Yeah, sure." He stood and backed toward the door. "I have some homework. Get you anything while I'm up?"
"Up?" She laughed. "No, I don't think so."
Panic crossed his face before he fled in full retreat. Lori grinned and wondered what other mischief she might engender.
Prior to bed, Lori went to his room. He was under the covers, reading. She sat on the bed and rested a hand on his thigh, and even through the covers, she could feel him tense. She apologized for making him uncomfortable earlier. She knew it was the kind of talk generally reserved for fathers, but since she was his only parent, she had to play both roles. She would feel terrible if she hadn't said anything at all.
While she talked, she slowly stroked his thigh, her fingers sliding up and down and up and down, casually, as if she had no idea what she was doing. He said he understood why she had talked the way she did. But he was careful and knowledgeable, and she didn't have to worry. Every time her fingers ran high up his thigh his voice caught just a bit, just a hint. From the corner of her eye, she could see him get hard beneath the cover. Neither one could admit it, but they both knew.
She reminded him not to mention anything to Todd about her conversation with Todd's mother. That wasn't something to share. He promised to keep mum, even as he hardened, and her fingers traveled up and down his thigh. Even as his eyes found the cleavage she had purposefully let show through the robe. Oh yes, he was eyeing her, ogling her and trying not to show it. She was baiting him, and he didn't know it, but he responded anyway, like the man he was. She had half a mind to keep her fingers going and outline his erection, but she thought better of it. Not now, not yet. There would be time for that. After another minute, she stood up and left. A moment later, she peeked in, and his hands were under his covers. She knew what he was doing—for the second time.
Later, she found Mr. Vibrator and had a go of it herself.
At work the next day, Lori tried hard to concentrate, but the events of the past few days distracted her. Who wouldn't be distracted? Still, she managed to push most of it out of her head until everyone had left and she was able to log into the net. She was looking for SONSTROKE and she found him quickly.
SONSTROKE: What happened to you yesterday?
KNOWINGMOM: Chickened out. Sorry.
SONSTROKE: thought so. No big deal really.
KNOWINGMOM: Perhaps another time.
SONSTROKE: That would be nice. Have you caught your son jerking off yet?
KNOWINGMOM: Yes, but he doesn't know it.
SONSTROKE: Cool. Did it turn you on?
KNOWINGMOM: Oh, yes. But it's your turn for a fantasy.
SONSTROKE: You like getting turned on by mom-son fantasies?
KNOWINGMOM: Let's just say I enjoy the idea.
SONSTROKE: Me too. OK, let's see. Here is one I really like.
She unbuttoned her blouse and reached in to touch her breast. She was damn happy to be alone. If anyone should catch her...well, that wasn't a thought she wanted to entertain.
SONSTROKE: It's night, late, my mom is asleep. She wears this sexy nightie to bed. I sneak into her room, and I stand by the bed, staring at her. She looks hot in her nightie. So, I take it out and start to play with myself. I like looking at her, thinking about what I could do if I was in bed with her. I look at her tits and want to suck. I look at her hips and want sex. It makes me very hard, so hard, I can hardly hold onto it.
KNOWINGMOM: Go on.
SONSTROKE: I'm throbbing so I move closer and closer, until the tip almost touches her lips.
KNOWINGMOM: Oh my.
SONSTROKE: She's still asleep, maybe from the wine she drank. So, I lightly, ever so lightly rub the tip across her lips. It's almost too light for her to even feel. My heart is pounding, and I'm so big and ready, and I just brush her lips. Her tongue comes out to lick her lips, and that makes me harder than ever. I want her to lick me with that tongue. So I brush her lips again, and my balls ache.
Lori read the screen and pinched her nipple. Had Ricky ever really done that? Had he sneaked into her room and let his erection play across her lips? The idea made her moist with desire.
SONSTROKE: I'm so turned on I can hardly control myself. But I'm committed. So, I do it again, and this time she opens her mouth just a little, just a tad, and I can't resist. I push it against her lips, and she begins to suck. Not much, not hard, more like a baby sucking its thumb. She's got the tip on her lips, and she's sucking automatically. It drives me wild, but I can't do more. I want to do her mouth right then, but I can't. All I can do is let her suck the tip like a baby.
KNOWINGMOM: I can taste it.
SONSTROKE: Yessssssss. It's very erotic and I'm quivering with need. All the energy trying to get out, and all that's happening is a bit of suck at the very end. So small, so gentle, I want to force her open and ram it inside. I want to do it hard and long and powerful, but I can't. It's painful to try and keep in check, but I manage. She doesn't know, doesn't even feel. She doesn't know how close she is to being forced to take it, forced to feel my juice run down her throat. Desire and need and power race through me. I could take her right then, bend her to my will, spread her with my strength.
KNOWINGMOM: The ultimate self-control.
SONSTROKE: Pre-cum slips out, and she slurps it automatically. Not much, not enough to wake her, just enough to make me mad with lust. This is contrary to the nature of sex which is hard and long and deep. I hold it there, letting her suck until I can't stand it any more. Until I'm already starting to shoot. I pull away and pump white semen through the dark, ghost sperm that fly away from her and me. I bite my lip to keep from moaning and pump myself dry. Still looking at her, still wanting all of her, I drain myself.
KNOWINGMOM: Wow, have you really done that?
Lori watched the screen. Her nipples ached with need, and her mouth felt dry. What would he say? Had he ever done that to her? Was he telling her a fantasy or a memory?
SONSTROKE: No, never, but I want to.
KNOWINGMOM: And if she woke up and started sucking you?
SONSTROKE: That would be wonderful.
KNOWINGMOM: And if she woke up and asked what the hell you were doing?
SONSTROKE: That would be very bad. LOL
KNOWINGMOM: Worth the risk?
SONSTROKE: I don't know. Part of me wants to try it, and part says to be careful.
KNOWINGMOM: I bet. Time to go.
SONSTROKE: Next time, it's your turn.
KNOWINGMOM: You bet.
She logged off and buttoned her blouse, wondering the whole time what she might do if she felt his shaft brush her lips in the middle of the night? What would she do?
Lori hadn't been home thirty minutes before Todd's mother arrived. Marie was a year or two older and a bit frumpish, but her smile was genuine. Lori was a bit surprised, especially after her talk with Ricky. Had Ricky told Todd after all? Lori tried to think of a quick excuse as they settled in the family room. Would she have to say that Ricky was imagining things?
"I don't know how to say this," Marie started. "We've been friends a long time."
"Through thick and thin," Lori answered. "Even through divorce and death."
"I still miss him. I thought the grief would go away, but it doesn't."
"Time, Marie, give it time."
"Yes, well, I hope so, but that's not why I'm here. I need some advice."
Lori waited. If she had to lie, she would wait as long as possible.
"This is so hard. I thought it would be easy, but it's not. Can I ask you a question?"
"Does Ricky peek at you?"
Stunned, Lori couldn't answer. Did Marie know something? Had someone been talking? Did Todd know what Ricky did in the hall?
"You see," Marie continued, "Todd peeks. Oh, it's nothing obvious or blatant, but he peeks. You know, you're coming out of the shower in a towel or robe, and he's there. Or you're undressing, down to bra and panties, and he bursts in. Or you're doing the dishes at the sink, and you glance over your shoulder, and he's staring at your butt. Does Ricky do those things?"
Lori shook her head. "Not that I know of."
"I mean, I know teenagers get curious, and mom is the closet female around, so why wouldn't they peek some. But this is more than curiosity. It's like he's trying to catch me naked."
"He probably is. But like you say, that's not all that unusual—if that's all he does."
Marie forced a smile that didn't reassure Lori. "Well, you can guess what he does after he sees me," Marie said. "I know that's natural too, but isn't it creepy that he does it after he peeks at me?"
"I would think it might be a bit flattering," Lori offered.
"Oh, it is in a way, but I'm his mother. Is he supposed to think about me that way?"
"Teenagers will think the way they think. I don't think you can stop that."
"I guess I shouldn't complain. Todd's a good boy. It's just this creeping around freaks me a bit. Know what I mean?"
"He'll get over it. As soon as he gets a girlfriend, you'll be off his radar."
"I hope you're right. But can I confess something to you?"
Lori held her breath. What was coming now?
"Part of me likes him peeping. I mean, I sometimes think I could put on a show for him. Is that crazy? Me, stripping slowly while he peeks and beats off. I can't believe I'm saying this."
"I think that's natural too. There's a bit of exhibitionist in almost every one of us."
"What's worse, I think I'd like to peep on him, watch him do it. Is that sick? Is that wrong, or what?"
"Marie, I don't think it's crazy or so wrong. It's part of the process. He's discovered you're a woman as well as a mom, and you're figuring out he's man as well as a son. Those man-woman feelings are genuine. But you have to remember that you're still mom-son."
"So no traipsing around in a bikini?"
"Not unless you want to get a rise out of him."
Marie laughed. "I might want to. You never know."