The Best Laid Plans

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My son Tommy was coming home for a week and I decided to toy with him a bit to make up for the lack of excitement in my life. My husband died five years ago and I haven’t been touched in a sexual way for what feels like forever. I certainly wasn’t intending to initiate an incestuous incident. I just wanted to titillate Tommy a little and enjoy watching him squirm.

I’m a registered nurse and when I get home from the hospital each day I shower and put on some sensible white cotton panties, an old sleeveless sweatshirt, and modest cut-off shorts. In summer I sleep in terry cloth pajama shorts and a short-sleeve terry cloth top because terry cloth is highly absorbent. The medical literature says to give your genitals plenty of fresh air and plenty of time to dry overnight, so I never wear anything under my pajamas.

However, after I learned that Tommy was coming to visit I went shopping and bought a few foolish things: beige satin running shorts with extra-wide legs and a beige satin tank top, a sheer white lace bikini bra and matching lace panties, and an extremely sheer, practically see-through, white summer pajama set. I also bought a small nightlight to plug into the outlet across the hall from my bedroom door. My plan was to move slowly and make small changes to my daily appearance a bit at a time.

Tommy was getting in after midnight, so I went to bed as usual, knowing that he had a key. In the morning I went downstairs in my terry pajamas and made breakfast. For some reason, going commando in Tommy’s presence made my body acutely sensitive, as if all my erogenous zones were back online. I felt the terry cloth tickling my nipples and buffing my clitoris as I moved about the kitchen. My labia stirred in anticipation every time I sat down or stood up. While we talked, Tommy looked at his plate or at my face, but didn’t even glance at any other part of my body. I felt slightly let down but highly aroused.

When I returned from work I showered and put on my usual cotton panties, sweatshirt, and shorts. I really enjoyed cooking dinner for the two of us again and except for my disappointment that Tommy took no interest in my body, we had a pleasant meal together, just like old times.

Following dinner we sat in the living room and watched a bit of television. Tommy offered to massage my feet and calves, which he had begun doing at about age 12. He was quite adept by now. I quickly agreed and as he knelt before my chair, gently resting my right foot on his knees, I sat back, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the forceful but tender manipulation of my muscles and bones. It felt great to be touched again, even if it was only my feet and calves.

After a long, relaxing massage and an hour or so of chitchat, I saw that it was growing late, so I went off to bed. I closed my bedroom door, took off all my clothes, and laid down on my futon, which I sleep on for the sake of my back. The foot of the futon faces the door. During Tommy’s absence I had rearranged his old room so that one side of his bed is against the same wall as my futon. After Tommy came to wish me goodnight through my closed door, I heard him shut his door and I waited until I was sure he was in bed before I turned to the wall and started masturbating loudly and bumping the wall. I wasn’t certain he could hear me, but the thought alone made the pleasure that much greater.

The next morning I made sure the top three buttons of my pajama top were undone before going downstairs to make breakfast. When Tommy walked into the kitchen he had a quizzical look on his face, as if he was mulling over what he had heard the night before. My own recalling of the night before caught the attention of the naked body under my terry pajamas. My nipples stiffened and my labia glistened. Each time I leaned over to put some food on Tommy’s plate or pour him some more coffee, I flashed some boob top and maybe even a perky nipple. There was no reaction. Zero. Nada.

When I got home from work I put on my usual outfit after my shower and relaxed until it was time to prepare dinner. The food was fine and we drank a whole bottle of wine. Both of us were still a bit tipsy as we sat together watching television and I noticed that Tommy was looking at my breasts as they bobbed inside my sweatshirt and staring at my legs in a way that boys don’t normally look at their mother. Other than that, the Ataköy Escort evening passed uneventfully as we chatted away. When Tommy said we should call it a night, I agreed.

Tommy was finally taking an interest in my body and I suspected he would listen at my door this night, so I draped red silk scarves over the wall sconces above my futon, stripped naked, and put on my new sheer white two-piece pajamas. The button-up top has long ruffled sleeves and the tulip-style shorts are ruffled too. The red scarves bathed me and my futon in a soft rosy glow. I didn’t close the door all the way but left it open a crack just wide enough to let me see the nightlight across the hall from my pillow. I assumed Tommy wouldn’t sneak out of his room until I made enough noise to mask the sound of his footsteps in the hall so I started moaning loudly and stroking myself under the bedspread. I closed my eyes but could still glimpse the nightlight through my eyelashes. When the nightlight’s glow disappeared I knew Tommy was blocking it by standing at my door, peering in. He didn’t say goodnight. I pushed the bedspread down a bit, slowly opened my pajama top button by button, and started teasing my nipples with my left hand while I played with myself under the bedspread with my right. My nipples were growing hard as diamonds and knowing that I was being watched made my legs quiver. I found myself twitching and writhing uncontrollably as my breathing became faster and raspier. I crooned and cried out and shouted some dirty words. I had more than one orgasm that night thanks to peeping Tommy.

On the third morning I was ready to wear the sheer white pajamas to breakfast but didn’t want to push too far too fast by going commando. I decided to wear a pink low-cut bra and panties set I’d received as a sexy birthday present from Tommy’s father. It didn’t leave much to the imagination. My dark nipples pressing hard against the gossamer fabric of the low-cut bra and my pubic hair forming a neatly trimmed black triangle inside the sheer pink panties were clearly visible. When Tommy walked in he nearly tripped over his feet. It was a challenge for him to keep his eyes on his plate or my face, but he tried very hard not to gape. Instead of filling his plate I served him one item at a time so I could move around the kitchen to better show off my assets. Every time he took a sly peek, I felt a twinge between my legs. It was delicious. Breakfast was over far too soon.

I took my usual shower after coming home from work and put on the pink underwear set under the new running shorts and tank top. That evening, every time I leaned over the table to serve him dinner, Tommy stared boldly down my tank top to watch my breasts almost slipping free from the pink low-cut bra. Again, I served one item at a time to keep the embers glowing.

When I asked Tommy for another foot massage after dinner, he quickly knelt before me and began rubbing and kneading. I pretended to close my eyes but again peered through my eyelashes. Tommy was taking stealthy glances up the extra-wide legs of my shorts to catch a glimpse of those pink panties and what they were hiding. When he massaged my calves my moans of pleasure sounded awfully similar to other moans of mine. I began to wonder if a foot massage could trigger an orgasm.

That night,I pulled my futon a tiny bit closer to the door, which I left ajar again, and I waited until the nightlight’s glow was blocked before slowly taking off my pajama top, pushing the bedspread down to my hips and easing down my pajama bottom to expose some pubic hair. As I tickled my nipples and stroked my smoldering pussy under the bedspread, I pictured the look on Tommy’s face, which made me pant and growl even louder, and grow wetter even quicker.

Morning number four. This time I wore the very sheer white pajamas and the very scanty white bra and panties as a special breakfast treat. The panties were a tiny white lace triangle in the front that kept trying to crawl in between my pussy lips, with almost nothing in the back, and the bra was no more than two tiny white lace triangles that covered my nipples but very little else. I’m sure Tommy had no idea what he was eating and drinking. I was so turned on I could barely swallow. Every move I made put us both on edge. I think we talked about something but Ataşehir Escort I was too distracted by the look on Tommy’s face, the moisture in my panties, the bulge in his pajamas, and the pounding of my heart to remember. The sexual tension was palpable. I nearly had an orgasm when the toast popped up. When I went upstairs to change for work, I discovered that the tiny white panties were soaked.

In the evening it was the scanty white panties but no bra under the running outfit, and every time I leaned over the table to put some food on Tommy’s plate, he looked straight into my tank top to savor the view of my breasts swaying gently as I served. Seeing my son brazenly gazing at my breasts made my nipples grow harder and harder, as if they were aiming to poke through the tank top’s fragile fabric. I think Tommy was hoping they would. He was mesmerized. I was gratified.

After dinner, Tommy was kneeling on the floor in front of my chair even before I sat down. I sensed some moisture in those scanty white panties in anticipation of the naughty pleasure I was about to enjoy at Tommy’s expense. The panties were far too tiny to fully cover the trim black triangle but Tommy was eagerly searching for flesh, not hair, and the bushiness below blocked his view of the more succulent bits. The massage was excellent as always but it was my son’s futile attempt to pretend not to be looking, added to his frustrated search for the hidden goodies, which made me feel so pleased with my plan.

Up in my bedroom, I pulled my futon closer to the bedroom door and opened it a little wider. After the nightlight’s glow was blocked, I removed my pajama top and slowly pulled away the bedspread, little by little, with a trembling hand. I raised my knees to my chest so I could slip off my pajama bottom. I reached around to hook my thumbs inside the pajama’s waistband and then paused to build up his anticipation as well as my own. I started raising the sheer fabric slowly, like a theater curtain, and I felt my asshole squeeze shut when it was exposed to the air. I paused again. The moment my pussy was finally revealed, the bedroom door rattled. “Must be the wind”, I muttered aloud as I pulled the pajama bottom over my knees and off. I wanted to chuckle but the joke was on me. The realization that a man was staring at my gaping pussy pushed me right over the edge. As I teased and stroked myself I could feel the wetness overflowing and trickling down onto my asshole. There was a lot of heavy breathing going on and I didn’t know or care if it was his or mine. I opened my legs wider and arched my back and had an orgasm that was so intense I almost forgot to breathe. Then I had another one and another one. Who’s the sex slave now?

The next morning found me cooking breakfast wearing only the scanty white panties under the sheer white pajama set. I had admired my breasts in the bathroom mirror and I thought my nipples looked darker and thicker and longer than usual, like fleshy AA batteries. When he came into the kitchen, Tommy’s eyes darted back and forth from my exposed nipples and breasts to the tiny white panties and the crease between my legs. I shrugged my shoulders a lot as I talked to keep my breasts in motion, but Tommy eventually settled on the damp crease in the panties and my nipples ached with heartbreak. He seemed jumpy and confused, and he dropped his spoon under the table twice. I opened my legs both times to give him a better view. We chatted about this and that but never broached the subject of nudity or incest or sex or anything interesting.

Once I had showered after work I decided it was time to put the tiny panties away in the drawer with the tiny bra. Serving Tommy dinner while totally naked under my running outfit turned me on so much I forgot what I was doing more than once. It felt like static electricity was crackling all over my body. During dinner I talked about how tiring nursing work is and how hard it is on my legs and feet.

It was a transparent plea for another foot massage and I got one I’ll never forget. As Tommy moved my feet around, the extra-wide legs of my running shorts opened wide enough to reveal the absence of any panties. Peering though my eyelashes, I watched Tommy’s face express a variety of emotions, including but not limited to shock, delight, confusion, Avcılar Escort and awe. Tommy is a dedicated masseuse and he paid close attention to every bone, every joint, every tendon, every sinew, and every muscle in my feet and legs. He even massaged my thighs for the first time. It was one of the longest massages ever.

That night, my hands were shaking as I moved the futon closer to the door and cracked it open even wider. I pulled the red scarves off the wall sconces and put a pillow under my lower back to raise my pelvis. The bedspread was on the floor. I assumed Tommy knew that I knew he was peeping every night and I wanted to give him a show. Once the glow of the nightlight was blocked, I began rubbing my pussy with my knees up and my legs spread wide and I really got the juices flowing. With my left hand I began finger-fucking myself slowly with one finger while gently stroking my clitoris with the right, and then I slipped in a second finger. After I jammed in a third finger, I picked up the pace and started gushing as I bucked and moaned and panted and called out Tommy’s name. As if to complement one of the longest massages ever, this was one of the longest jill off sessions ever.

On the morning of day six, I was shamelessly wearing nothing but the sheer white pajama set. The weakest ray of the sun would shine a spotlight on my naked body underneath. And it was a very sunny morning. My back was turned when Tommy walked in but I heard him whisper something to himself. I assume he was looking at my ass and wondering what heavenly song was on side A. For no apparent reason I bent over to open the oven door and froze in place when I realized the pajama bottom was sticking to my pussy. I knew that as the dampness spread, the material was becoming even more transparent. At the same time, the tension of the taut fabric was gradually pressuring my pussy lips to open like a sea anemone at high tide. I felt a hot wave of raw desire wash over me. I stood up and turned around very, very slowly, terrified yet exhilarated, trying to act nonchalant. The first thing I noticed was Tommy’s cock struggling to escape his pajamas, and then the expression on my son’s face mutating from boyish bewilderment to brutish lust. My hands shook as I tried to serve breakfast as usual and my legs went wobbly as I moved around the kitchen, feeling breathless and far too exposed. Tommy’s eyes followed me everywhere and I loved every minute of it. What did we talk about over breakfast? Don’t ask me because I have no idea.

I rushed off to work and spent most of the day in a daze, reliving that electrifying morning. I was so horny I had to take two bathroom breaks to give myself a quick DIY pelvic exam. It was then that I decided to shave off all my pubic hair when I got home. No bra under my tank top. No panties under my running shorts. No bushes hiding my pretty pussy.

Do I remember what I cooked that night? No. I also don’t recall eating it. I couldn’t wait for dinner to be over and as I was washing the dishes I felt that familiar pulsing sensation between my legs and my pelvic floor muscles clenching on and off. I “accidently” splashed some cold water on my tank top to wake my nipples up. My running togs were driving me mad by rubbing me and caressing me with every move I made; my nipples were stiff and my clitty was standing at attention.

I took a deep breath and walked over to my chair to prepare for the foot massage of the century. Tommy knelt down, placed my right foot on his knees as usual, and then took a quick peek up my shorts leg. I don’t know exactly what he saw but his eyes got as big as saucers and he dropped my foot. He sheepishly picked my foot up again and began maneuvering it slowly in different directions to see if he could widen the gap in my shorts leg while also widening the gap of my pussy. I was getting giddy from the rush. It was all going to plan. I could actually feel the heat pouring out of my shorts legs. The more Tommy looked, the wetter I got. I was on the verge of coming in my shorts when Tommy took hold of my left foot and began moving my left leg around. At this point he was massaging on auto-pilot, and as his movements got slower and slower his face inched closer and closer to my crotch. Finally, Tommy forgot what he was doing and where he was and who he was with and just poked his nose right up the inner leg of my shorts. My pussy and I went wild. I couldn’t take any more. I leaned down to yank off my shorts and kick them aside. I pulled Tommy toward me, spread my legs, and then pulled his head closer until his nose was actually in me.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Sniff me! Lick me! Please, Tommy, please.”

Game over.

Mommy 0 – Tommy 1

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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