It was hot today, and the door had swung open about an inch. I took two deep breaths before getting up enough courage to peek in. There, just like my school-time visions was Mom in her robe, facing away from me. And, just like the vision, she untied it and shrugged it off her shoulders.
That’s where reality took over from imagination. Although Mom didn’t have a top on, she did still wear her tight blue running shorts. But, not for long, because she hooked her thumbs under the elastic waistband and pulled them down, revealing the two rounded muscular butt cheeks that were much lighter than her tanned body.
Mom never turned around, luckily, because she couldn’t have missed my eye and face pressed against the doorjamb and door. Never turning around also meant I never saw her boobs or bush. She stepped out of her shorts with one foot, and kicked them up on top of the clothes in the portable nylon hamper we kept in the bathroom with the other.
I backed away before she headed into the shower.
I sat in the kitchen, absentmindedly eating a snack of cookies and milk while listening to the shower water run. I had thoughts like: “Mom’s in there completely naked” and “I bet she would love someone to wash her back.”
That’s when I heard Mom shut off the water and minutes later say as she was heading for her bedroom, “Eric, do Mom a favor and carry the hamper down to the washer?”
“Okay, Mom,” I called back.
I thought about trying to spy again as Mom was dressing, but didn’t want to press my luck. I did just as I was told, and put the hamper near the washer down cellar.
As I was about to head upstairs, I saw those running shorts peeking out from under a white towel. I stood there thinking for a while before picking them out of the pile. They were inside out and wet-wet with the sweat of five miles of running on a hot day.
If this had been a normal day, I never would have thought twice about the laundry or the shorts. But, last night had made this an unordinary day.
I raised the crotch of the shorts to my nose and inhaled. The scent was much stronger than the panties. It had pussy juice drenched in sweat this time, a much more potent mixture. I filled my mouth with the inner lining of the shorts and sucked hard and swallowed as much perspiration and vaginal fluid as I could. It tasted like nothing I had ever experienced before.
And, there was another first: I had an erection that wouldn’t quit. I had a hard-on for my mother.
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“What would you say if I told you your mother was sex chatting up some young guy?” my dad casually asked me. He came to my room after dinner, an arrival I didn’t welcome.
“Dad, you’re nuts. You’re paranoid. You always think every guy is looking at Mom. You’re ridiculous with how you’ve always been jealous. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Eh, maybe you’re right,” Dad said. He had a laptop under his arm, one I had never seen before. “You know Charlie Sevinsky down at the station?”
“Your computer guy,” I said.
“Computer Forensics Specialist, if you want to be specific. And he’s good. I personally know how to use email-barely. But, Charlie, he knows his stuff.”