Things began to change for the better six months after the separation from my husband. It came out of the blue one afternoon, as I was tidying my son's bedroom whilst he was at college. On the long wall that divides his room from mine, he had hung a framed picture of his current favourite 'babe', Kylie Minogue. It wasn't hanging properly so I went over to straighten it. As I manoeuvred it around, something behind looked peculiar. I took the picture off its hook to examine further and what I saw nearly caused me to fall over. It was a hole in the wall. When I had regained my composure, I took a peek through. It was only a small opening, but it gave an almost unlimited view of my own room with a grandstand vision of my bed. I dashed into my bedroom to see where it appeared and try to understand why I hadn't noticed it before now. But even in broad daylight, it took me a few minutes to find it. It was hard to see because it was camouflaged by the pattern of the wallpaper.

I sat down on the bed in a state of shock. Realisation hit me that I was being spied upon by my own son. I suddenly thought about my nightly rendezvous with my sex toys. No wonder Jason was always in his room. He was watching his mother masturbate. My initial reaction was of anger. Anger at the pervert son I had brought up. However, that feeling disappeared very quickly. For the last six months I had felt unattractive and ugly. But now a man was interested in me. OK, so the man was my own son. But he must be seeing something he likes or he wouldn't be looking. Very soon I began to feel very excited at the thought of my voyeuristic offspring. I had initially thought about confronting him with my discovery, but now all I wanted was to let him keep his secret. His act of perversion had given me back some self -confidence and I wasn't about to throw it away. So I quickly went back into his room and returned the picture back to the wall the way I had found it.

That night, as usual, Jason went to bed before me. As I entered my room, I was filled with a strange, sinful excitement. I had decided to give my son a bit of a show. I had spent the day soaking in the tub. Before Jason had arrived home from college, I had put on some light make up, nothing too trashy, but enough for him to notice the difference in his Mom. Out went the frumpy clothes. That evening I had worn a shortish, black dress, sheer nylon stockings and black high heels.

I felt Jason's eyes on me all evening. I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn't help myself. I kept inadvertently crossing my legs as I sat on the couch, knowing I was giving my son a good flash of thigh. At around ten o'clock, feeling more horny than I had felt in months, I said I was will bed. Jason, unusually, had stayed in the living room with me. He followed me along the corridor and we went into our separate rooms together. I normally masturbated in the dark, so Jason had only ever seen me by any moonlight that may have shone into the bedroom. From now on that would be different. So, with the bedside lamp on, I began to remove my dress. With my back to the wall that I knew my son was peering through, I let the dress fall to the floor. As I stepped to one side, I wore only a black bra, matching lace garter belt and French knickers, stockings and heels.

Slowly, I turned around to face my invisible son. Teasingly, my hands came up to my breasts and nimbly undid the front fastening of my bra. As the hook came apart, I slowly exposed my heavy, naked orbs. I am only five two, even in four inch heels, but I am slim around the waist and top heavy, if you know what I mean. I cupped my tits and began to fondle them. I brought one up to my face and began to lick around the hardening teat and its dark surrounding circle. Then, I sat down on the bed and swung my legs up so that I lay flat on top. I reached into the drawer of the bedside table and took out my sex toys.

Keeping the leg straight that was nearest to the wall that my son was peering through, I bent my other at the knee, so that my shoe was flat on the bed. My knickers were loose fitting, so I gently pulled the gusset to one side and began to explore my pussy with my fingers. Wow, I was already so wet down there. I rubbed my clitoris furiously with the knuckle of my right thumb. In the past, I had stopped myself from making any noise so as not to attract my son's attention. But now that I knew he was ogling me through the hole in the wall, I wanted him to see same well as hear his mom in the throes of ecstasy. I groaned as the tingly sensation coursed around my loins.

After a couple of minutes of frigging myself, I reached over and dipped the helmet of the eight inch rubber phallus into a jar of lubrication that I keep on the bedside table.

With my legs spread, I brought it up to my pussy. Holding on to it where the balls would be on a real dick, I toyed with it around my clit. Then, when I couldn't stand it any longer, I it into my gaping hole. I gasped as it spread my womanhood apart and penetrated up to my womb, its oversize proportions being bigger than any man who had ever fucked me. I pulled it back until it almost came out of me, then rammed it back in all the way to where my hands held onto it. I got a slow rhythm going and was soon moaning loudly in pleasure. I turned my face towards the hole in the wall that Jason was peeping through and gave it a dreamy stare. In the space of hours I had turned myself into a sexual exhibitionist. I was working myself into a lather just thinking about how naughty it was performing in this way for my own son.

I had unwittingly increased the speed of the dildo and realised I was close to cum. So, fucking myself with that in my right hand, I took hold of the vibrator in my left. As I switched it on, the familiar buzzing reassured me that I would be climbing the walls very shortly. I placed its throbbing tip onto my clitoris and immediately went into convulsive, loud thrashing motions. As my senses reached their crescendo, I let all inhibitions go and cried out in shouts of pure delight. I fucked myself until I was sure I had completely come and then slowly started to drop the tempo. Dildo plopped out of my pussy as I lay on the bed breathing heavily. I couldn't be sure, but I thought that I had heard similar noises coming from my son's room. Just in case he had more to give himself, before I got into bed, I gave Jason a nice view of me seductively peeling off my stockings.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I treated my son to this performance almost every night. It was the thrill of doing something that I shouldn't, something that is taboo in almost every society, that really turned me on. Being spied upon is only exciting if you know you're being spied upon. That my own flesh and was fantasising over his mother was tremendously stimulating to my erotic thoughts.

Other things changed after thfirstly night's show. Firstly, I began to get back some of my old self-confidence. Secondly, my relationship with Jason became a bit more touchy feely. I had abandoned my bag lady image completely and returned to wearing clothes that showed off my body. Even at home, I always wore make up and high heels. I think my son had become aware that I knew he was peeping at me and I think that he knew that I enjoyed teasing him. As a result, we became physically closer. Touching each other on the arm or shoulder more frequently than ever before. At that stage I was still aroused by the naughtiness of it all and especially of the feigned secrecy on both sides. But I hadn't really given much thought to how it would develop, or whether I would be prepared to go all the way with him.

Monthly cheques from my ex kept Jason and I in food and shelter. So, after finishing the daily housework, there was nothing much for me to do except watch TV or daydream. It was during a bout of this that I began to worry that my son might be getting tired of seeing his mom just masturbating every night. I had become hooked on his secret attentions and couldn't bear to think of him ever not wanting to spy on me anymore. I had to do something new to keep his interest up. Answer was that obvious, that it took me a whole week to find it; I needed a man. My husband had always been trying to get me to have sex with him and any other man , saying that seeing another guy fuck your wife is the biggest turn on in the world . I therefore assumed that a son would also like to see his mom being screwed by another. But what would really turn him on, I thought, would be for him to see me having dirty sex. By that I mean filthy, degrading sex. I imagined my son spying through the hole as I was fucked by a vagrant, or by a really old man, or maybe gang by two black guys.

For the following few days I tried to think about how I could put these ideas into action. In fact, the thought of lowering myself to some of the thoughts I was having was really beginning to get my own juices flowing. Like everything else that had happened to me recently, the solution came suddenly out of the blue one sunny, yet cold afternoon in the self-service laundry.

I have to go there once a week because, like I said, we don't have a washing machine in the apartment. Almost every week, I see this old tramp in there keeping warm. He's quiet and no trouble to anyone, but right from the first time I saw him, I could see that he liked to leer at the women in there. He had never looked at me whilst I was going through my drab phase, but now that I had smartened myself up, I had felt his eyes upon me all the time. I had made up a plan in my mind. As I carried the washing the three blocks to the laundry, I was praying he would be there today.

It was quite a big self-service laundry and surprisingly, today it was deserted. My heart sank as I went to the washers and began to read one of the month old magazines that the proprietor supplies. I turned around hopefully, as the door opened suddenly, but it was only another housewife with the weekly wash. She sat down next to me just as my cycle finished. I pulled the clothes out of the machine and into a basket and carried them over to the dryers. As I turned into the aisle that had the machines on the right wall and a bench of seats opposite, my deflated spirits rose. There, quietly dozing at the very end was the vagrant I had hoped to see.

He woke up when he saw me and gave me a long, unashamed leer. I wasn't surprised; I had dressed especially for that reaction. It was a bitterly cold day, which explained why the tramp was sitting in the warmest part of the room and I had worn a long overcoat. But as I slowly and deliberately walked past all the empty dryers that were furthest away from him, in order to place my clothes in the one nearest to him, I let my topcoat swing open to reveal my clothes underneath. I was wearing a tight, white, see through blouse over a white, lace, half cup bra, a very short, black mini-skirt, barely black hold-ups and black patent, high-heeled ankle strap sandals.

After placing the money in the slot, I turned and took a seat on the bench not a foot away from the old dosser. As my coat fell open, I crossed my nylon covered legs towards him. He said not a word, but I could feel his eyes burning my thighs as he brazenly stared at them. After a minute, I turned to give him a smile, but his glare never left my limbs. It gave me the chance to look at him closely. I guessed he was about sixty years' old, scrawny and dirty. His long nails were black and his clothes were tattered and stained. . ear ago, if you told me I would soon be trying to seduce a piece of like this, I would laughed in your face. But now, with the thought of my son watching me being by this down and out, I was in a state of high arousal.

As I let my skirt ride up a little, I knew that the tramp could see the bare flesh of my thighs above the hold-ups. His pants were big and baggy, but he made no effort to hide the movements of his right hand as he fondled his private parts through his pocket. Behaving like a wanton slut was so nice and naughty.

I knew what I had to do, so after about ten minutes, I got up to place my dried clothes in the black sack I had brought them in. As I emptied the dryer, I let a pair of my skimpiest panties fall to the floor and pretended not to notice. I turned to leave and hoped that my deliberate carelessness and feigned struggle with the washing bag would achieve the result I had planned. With heart in mouth, I started to walk slowly away. I had taken only three paces when I heard the tramp's voice calling to me.

'Hey, lady. You dropped these.'

I turned slowly. Vagrant was now standing and holding the panties up to his waist as though modelling them.

'They're very nice.' he said, with a leering, almost toothless, grin.

'Thank you so much', I began, in a whimpering, type voice. 'I'm that clumsy. I'm always dropping my panties.'

Double entendre was not lost upon my dirty, old admirer.

'I'll bet you are, lady', he said.

It was now or never for me, so I took courage and made him my offer.

''ve got to carry this bag of washing about three blocks. It's terribly heavy. My son carried it here for me but he's gone back to the apartment that just the two of us live in. I'm sure I could think of some way of thanking you, if you'd be so kind as to carry it home for me.' I pleaded.

I couldn't have made my invitation any more explicit without actually asking him to fuck me.

'You sure this boy of yours won't be upset at you being helped by me?', he asked.

'No, not at all. In fact, he'll be pleased. And he would insist that I thank you properly.' I reassured him.

Old vagrant rubbed his unshaven chin as if in deep contemplation. I helped him reach the conclusion I wanted, with letting my overcoat open up and reveal my partly exposed breasts and nylon covered legs. I had placed the bag of clothes at my feet and now the wizened tramp was slowly bending down to pick it up. As he did so, he took the opportunity to examine my body. When he stood upright, a good foot taller than me, he said:

'OK lady, after you.'

We walked silently back to my apartment. I knew Jason would be home by now. I was so wet already at the thought of offering myself to this piece of crud and being spied upon by my son. I entered the living room first and said hello to Jason who was sitting on the couch watching TV. I had taken off my coat in the hallway and could see by the look on my son's face that he was excited to see the way his mother was dressed. His expression became even more obvious when he saw the tramp follow me in.

'This is my son, Jason', I said to the vagrant, who gave a slight nod of his head in my son's direction.

'Jason, this gentleman kindly offered to carry the washing home for me. I'm just will take him into the bedroom and show him where things go.'

On saying this, I sauntered into the corridor that led to the bedrooms and the old man followed eagerly. We went into my bedroom and I told him to put the washing on the floor and to close the door. Tramp did as I instructed and turned back to face me. I had moved already to the side of the bed. I don't think I had ever been so sexually aroused as I said:

'I think I know how you would like me to repay you for your service'

Vagrant began to rub his groin as my hands went up and began to unfasten the buttons of my blouse. As I pulled it out of my skirt and let it fall off my shoulders to the floor, revealing my dainty, white half-cup bra, I heard the almost imperceptible sound of Jason's bedroom door being closed. I knew that my son was now watching me. Slowly, I unfastened the zip on the mini-skirt. After I had stepped out of it, I moved towards the old guy, now wearing just the bra, black thongs, hold-ups and heels. I stood in front of him, just about a foot away and craned my neck to look up into his eyes. As I sensuously licked my crimson lips, he put out his filthy hands to touch my breasts. I held them off and told him there had to be some ground rules set first. I spoke loudly enough for Jason to be able to hear every word next door. I told the vagrant that this was the one and only time he would have me. I said that he had exactly one hour to do whatever he liked and then he would have to leave. As a final command, I told him that there would be no mouth to mouth kissing.

As my eyes wandered down his skinny body towards his groin, I saw the throbbing bulge enclosed within his stained pants. I reached out my left hand to fondle it.

'Oh, you're ready for this, aren't you, old man.' I said admiringly.

His whole body stiffened as I rubbed my hand along the entire length of his shaft.

'You want me to shower first, lady?' he enquired.

As I walked back to the bed and lay down, invitingly, I told him that if Ihad wanted a clean man I would have chosen one. Then, looking at the bedside alarm clock, I advised him that his hour had just begun.

Old tramp lost no time in peeling off his raincoat and tattered shirt. After hehad kicked off his boots, he undid the belt that held his baggy trousers around his waist. When they fell to the floor, leaving him completely naked, I saw, at last, the body of the man who would soon be me. He was skinny as a rake and this only served to make his swollen, vertical penis look even bigger than it actually was. His back was hunched and apart from a thick bush of red pubic hair, he had not another on his body.

He walked to the side of the bed and hovered over me. His skin was wrinkled and grimy. I put my right hand up to his prick. Old man gasped as I pulled back his foreskin. Underneath, his helmet was covered in the white cheesy remnants of previous masturbations. Under normal circumstances, I would have been disgusted at what I was about to let this piece of human garbage do to me. But, I hadn't had a real prick in me for that long and, knowing that my son was watching his mom getting fucked by this old guy, I was just so very horny. I continued to give the tramp a couple more pulls before I looked into his eyes and told him that I wanted him to fuck me.

I shuddered as his dirt encrusted fingers first touched me around my belly. Old man's hands moved down the sides of my hips to the thinnest part of my thongs. Gripping them tightly, he snapped the material apart in two places and tossed them onto the floor. Then he moved to the end of the bed and climbed on, in between my legs. As his hands rasped their way up my nylon covered calves and then thighs, I could see that his dick seemed to be getting even harder.

With his arms outstretched on either side of my head, the vagrant let the tip of his prick find its own way to my pussy lips. He used his hips to get it into just the right position and then, almost to my surprise, he rammed it hard into my soaking wet honey pot. It caused me to cry out as I took the full length and girth of a real man for the first time in guessed it had been even longer since my dirty, old lover had buried his meat into a woman, because he pumped me with enthusiasm that I hadn't expected from one that old. As he lowered his face down to my breasts, he used his lips and gums to pull down my half-cups and expose both teats completely. His rough, unshaven chin caused my skin to redden and chafe as he feverishly sucked on my two hard teats. I completely abandoned the inhibitions that any normal woman would have had as the old man tried to spear me even deeper with his manhood. But I had enough presence of mind left to remember why I was doing this in the first place. As I moaned, groaned and banged my fists on the bed in genuine enthralment at my situation, I took care to turn my head towards the hole through which I knew my son was watching me being used.

I wondered how Jason felt in the room next door. Was he pulling himself off? Was he wishing he could take the place of the old man on top of me? Was I wishing that it was really my son and not the old man, on top of me? To be honest, at that moment I didn't care who it was fucking me same long as he didn't stop. Old man continued at a pace that was will get me into a climax very quickly. I was breathing heavily and noisily. I raised my hands to the sides of the tramps head and pulled him up to my face.

'Kiss me, you filthy bastard.' I commanded.

As the old man moved his face towards mine, I saw his lips part and a pink tongue slipped out. Soon, that same pink tongue was in my mouth, exploring everywhere and anywhere it wanted. I could smell and taste the residue of cheap alcohol on his breath. Pressure of this mouth to mouth contact, combined with the noise of our slapping hips each time he gave me his full length, was the final straw. I cried loudly as my entire body wracked in cum. My legs wrapped tightly around my old lover's waist as I refused to let him go until my needs were sated.

It must have been the way my vaginal muscles contracted during cum that finally got the vagrant's own juices flowing. No sooner was I coming down from my own high, than I realised that the old man was about to empty his load into my belly. With his tongue still probing away in my mouth and his saliva trickling down my throat, the old man gripped my shoulders with his long, claw like, nails and growled like a pig as I felt his hot liquid hit the walls of my womb. Whilst there was still some of his muck to come out, he released his mouth from mine, raised himself on his outstretched arms and looked down to watch as his slippery dick slid in and out of my comparatively young sex hole. I had never let a man old enough to be my father have me before this and I was pleasantly surprised at how good he performed.

When he had emptied his balls, the old man let his shrinking dick plop out of me and rolled over and lay down by my side. After a few minutes, we were still breathing heavily same well as I ordered him to go down on me. His age was showing now as he struggled to move his head towards my pussy. But same soon as his tongue flicked at my clit and I began to massage his head, thus encouraging him to go deeper and faster into me, the old tramp's libido seemed to return. I turned my head to the hole in the wall and gave another dreamy stare to my son peeping on the other side. I could feel a second climax coming to as the vagrant licked and sucked feverishly at my cunny, his hands fondling my legs and long nails causing my nylons to run in several places. I bucked and screamed as he took me to the high point again, yet, even with all of my thrashing, he still managed to keep his mouth doing just the right things.

As I was calming down, I saw the old man stand up and move to the side of the bed. His tool was like a flagpole again. He took hold of me under my arms and effortlessly pulled me up the bed so that my head was flat against the headboard. Then, his old, thin body was straddling my breasts and his hard, purple knob was pointing right at my mouth.

'Open wide, lady.' he commanded.

I did as I was told and parted my lipstick smeared mouth. Steadying himself on the wall above the bed, the tramp eased his body forward. Smell of his musk seemed stronger than ever, but with my secret audience on the other side of the wall hopefully still watching, I wanted the sex to be the dirtiest possible. I raised my hands to the old man's hips to have some control of how deeply into my mouth I would take his dick. Dried on cum that I had seen earlier when I first pulled back his foreskin, had now all disappeared, leaving his hairy manhood glistening at the tip. To tell the truth, giving head is not especially pleasurable for me. Swallowing semen is like downing a cup full of snot same far as I'm concerned and I never even let my ex-husband ejaculate in my mouth. More cynical of you reading this may assume, probably correctly, that this may be the reason why he left me for an eighteen year old.

It was important not to let my peeping tom of a son see the disgust on my face as the old man's prick entered my mouth. It would have been bad enough had it been smooth, but having to suck on the moist pubic hairs that covered his penis made the experience even worse than normal. At first, he tried his hardest to thrust the whole thing into me. I had to use all my effort to keep his hips back same far as possible. When I felt I had him under control, I began to use my tongue on the hard, smooth and tight skin of his helmet. I rolled it around my mouth, gently biting on it first, then flicking my tongue into the slit. I stopped pushing back his hip with one of my hands, so that I could take hold of his meat and pull him off. But same soon as he sensed that my hand had gone, he slid his body forward towards me. His dick went to the back of my throat, causing me to gag a little. Old man took the initiative I had inadvertently given him and grabbing both my arms, held them securely above my head, leaving him free to fuck my mouth just as he liked. He went easy on me for the first few strokes, allowing me to stop gagging and get used to his size. But then his tempo began to increase and soon my mouth was being used just like a pussy.

As I got into the stride of things, I began to realise that this must be a really sexy sight to my son. I mean, how often does a boy get to see his mom get screwed by an old down and out, then take it full in the mouth like this. I knew at that point that exhibitionism was something that really got me going and began to wish that I had allowed myself to take part in threesomes all those years ago as my ex had often suggested. As the old tramp's sweaty, grimy body slapped against my face, I raised my eyes to his face. His lips were drawn back revealing the few teeth he still had left and he looked like an animal. Just at that moment, the bedside alarm clock rang indicating that his hour with me was up. His eyes looked down and caught mine.

He shook his head from side to side.

'Not yet, lady,' he began, 'I'm not there yet.'

He had me well pinned against the wall, so I couldn't stop him anyway. My mouth was beginning to hurt now that it had been open so wide for over ten minutes. Suddenly, the old man began to groan loudly. At the same time, I caught a quick glimpse of his hairy balls tightening up. Then, almost immediately, his hot spunk was flowing into my XXX from this piece of human , it tasted even more vile than I remembered. I felt it slide down my throat like half a dozen oysters going down at once. Old man took hold of his prick and made sure he'd shaken every drop out. I sensed that some of his muck had leaked out the side of my mouth and onto my chin. I didn't lick it off. I'd let it stay there. It would come in handy later. As he pulled his prick out from between my lips, a thin strand of cum made a bridge between us. Old man saw this and rubbed his bell end against my right cheek to clean it off.

I put my blouse and skirt back on as the old man got dressed. He never once took his eyes from me.

'I know what you said at the beginning lady, about this being our one and only time, but I'd sure like to fuck you again.'

'I'll bet you would.' I replied, with sarcasm. 'But there are a lot of men out there to get through.'

'What if I were to introduce you to this buddie of mine.' he enquired, as I sat down on the bed and crossed my legs teasingly. I asked him why he thought I might be interested.

'Well, this buddie of mine, he's about my suppose. He's big, if you know what I mean. And he's black. You just strike me as the kind of woman that would like to try a little coloured meat.'

I must admit that the thought of it was already making my mouth water. Vagrant could see it too. He had the sly, leering grin of someone who held the upper hand.

Again, talking loudly enough for my son to hear, I told the old man that he and his black buddie could spend an hour with me the following Tuesday. I instructed him to get here at three o'clock, as my son wouldn't yet be home from college. In my mind, I wondered how Jason would manage to make it home in time for the show. Well, that was his problem, but I was sure he wouldn't miss the chance of seeing his mom getting well and truly laid by two old geezers, especially as one of them was black. It was just at that point, that I heard my son's bedroom door open then gently close. I smiled inwardly.

Old man and I walked silently through into the living room, where Jason was sitting in an easy chair pretending to read a book. My son never looked up as I thanked the tramp for helping me and said goodbye. Closing the front door, I sauntered over to the couch, still wearing my high-heeled ankle strap sandals and sat down opposite my son. I crossed my legs and made small twirling movements with my raised foot. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Jason was giving my legs appreciative glances from the corner of his. Teasing him this way was making me as sexually excited as I had ever been before about anything. by, since he had been a normal son now he would remonstrated with me for allowing myself to be used by a dirty old man. Of course, if I had been a normal mom, then I wouldn't have been that indiscreet. We were both taking part in one of those 'I know he knows I know' type games and for the time being it suited us both to pretend that the other didn't know.

For about minutes I sat opposite my son teasing him with the amount of thigh I was showing. In all that time he never once turned over the page of the book that he was pretending to read. Moving around in my seat, I could allow my skirt to, 'accidentally', ride up a little higher. Eventually, it got so short that the lacy reinforced tops were visible, hinting to Jason that if I let my skirt move up just a touch further, he would be able to see the bare flesh above. At this point, his glances became longer and less camouflaged. I decided to give him one final tease before leaving to have a long, hot soak in the tub.

I pretended to suddenly notice that each of my hold ups had runs in them.

'Look at these,' I said to Jason, standing up in front of him, parading my legs. 'You might have told me that my nylons had run.'

Now that I had given my son the all clear to look at me openly, he became quite shy. Fortunately for me, one of the runs was down the back of my left leg. So I felt it was a legitimate move to turn my back towards Jason, lift my skirt up so that the bare flesh above the hold ups was just visible and ask him if the run went all the way to the top.

My son squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, trying to hide the bulge in his pants as he told me that the run did go all the way. His voice was almost inaudible. I was just so excited at the thought of showing myself like this to my own son in my own living room and knew that I would have to get to the bathroom quickly and bring myself off again. So, sliding my skirt down to its proper length, I told Jason that I had had a very hard day and was will take a bath before bed. Before I left the room, I bent down to offer Jason my right cheek to kiss. It was the cheek that still bore visible traces of the old man's dried on semen. As my son brought his lips to my face, I felt the slight touch of his tongue as he tasted the white powdery film. I wondered how much he was wishing that it had been his juices over my face.

But then, as I slipped out of the living room, leaving my son to think about what he had seen during the past couple of hours, I wondered how much I wished they had been his juices over my face.

Here is the story of how my twisted fantasy became reality.

I love to spy and role play. I have deep fantasy's about having sex with my son, I know its perverted but i cant help it, I love big cock and his nothing shy of huge. It all started when I use to bath him as a , rubbing soap around his " manhood" I was shocked as the years went by and with each month, it was growing bigger and bigger. As a young single mother, I put my cravings aside and worked hard to give him the best. Years went by, he grew into a young man, very athletic and great a hockey. In the summers, after dry land practise, the boys would come over and use the pool. That's when my loneliness got the better of me. It was a hot day, and was laying back in the sun by the pool as the boys swam, and i was sweating, I over heard my sons Friend teasing him about how lucky he was to have such a ' hot fucking mom" . I never really considered myself hot, as I was never really able to loose the baby fat after my pregnancy. I don't shave my pussy, and my breast are over sized. I did not think much of his comment until I heard my son say to him ' if you could stop staring at my moms breast for 2 min, you would notice her camel toe in her swim suit loser". That made me so hot, as I watched my sons strong arms pull himself out of the pool, he yelled over to me as he was on the diving board " Mom check out my cannonball " as he jumped up and down to spring himself into action, I had to make my way into the house, his cock head was so visible in his shorts, and all the talk about me had made me wet. I hurried into the house, I needed to stick something in my hairy pussy, I was overwhelmed and had never been so turned on over hearing my son and his Friend talking about me like some slutty hot hockey mom. I hurried to the bathroom where I stared out of the window, watching my son whip out his cock and tell his Friend that if he did not stop talking about me, he was gonna fuck his sister. All i could think about was how much of a bad slutty mommy i was as I jammed a thick shampoo in and out of my pussy. No, I did not feel guilty as I stared at my teen sons fat cock, god, he never find out, and besides, all I was thinking about was his cock, not him. If I could have his cock, and it wasn't attached to him, I would fuck it all the time. As I stared out the window in a daze, watching him walk around the pool with that hard on, fantasizing of him fucking his Friends little sister, the door opened, it was his Friend. He had caught me spying on my son fucking my pussy. I was scared, I just sat there, not knowing what to say as my nipples where swollen, and my thighs visible soaked. Well needless to say, I pleaded with him that " its not what you think , I will do anything please don't tell my son, please. As he grabbed me by the hair and started calling me a slut hockey mom, he jammed his cock into my mouth and started telling me ( well I sucked ) " Your gonna be my sex toy, if you don't do as I say, I will tell the world, your son will be ruined. That's when my life changed, from that day on, I have been to do many perverted things in order to protect my own . I have been to do things, many things that I always thought would never happen.