Rachel's Discovery free porn video

It all started out like a typical Saturday. I was able to sleep a little later than usual and, since it was so pretty outside, decided to enjoy my morning coffee out by the pool. It had been terribly hot all summer but we had a nice rain the previous evening and the morning air was not only somewhat cool, it made all of the colors in the backyard more vibrant and the smell of all of the flowers around our patio sweeter. There were hardly any clouds in the sky that morning, so I knew it was just a matter of time before we had another hundred degree day, but this morning felt like a small oasis in the middle of the heat wave. As I sat there, listening to the mix of birds chattering and the fountain running in the pool, my senses were flooded and I thought how fortunate I was.

My ex and I had divorced about seven years before, after a one year separation. It was devastating at the time, but I had moved on. Both of us were quite successful in our respective fields and, after discovering he was having an affair with a woman in his office, I had received the lion's share of our assets. By a lot of people's standards I suppose that I appeared to be rich, but I never thought of it that way. My son, Brian, and I live a very comfortable life in a quiet suburb of a large city. We have a large home that is mortgage free with the obligatory pool to fend off the aforementioned heat in the summer. I had put aside enough money to pay for his college education. We both drive cars that are nice, but not in the luxury class. In short – we may have some things to worry about, but money isn't one of them.

Brian is twenty and was home for the summer, having finished his first year at the state university a few hours south. He had taken mostly core courses but was planning on becoming an attorney like his dad. Sometimes when I look at him now, it seems like he is a clone of his father at that age. He is just shy of six feet, still has the athletic body that helped him win all-district honors in football and baseball in high school, and these blue eyes that apparently make girls weak-kneed if he locks in on them. When my ex and I divorced, I got custody of Brian. At first his dad made an effort to spend time with him, but as time went on, he seemed to be less and less interested in being there for Brian. I did the best that I could raising him alone, but it wasn't always easy. In fact, as I look back on it now, I'm not sure it was ever easy. Now he had grown into not only a handsome young man, but the kind of son that any mother would be proud of. He was smart and hard working, choosing to get a job as an intern at a fairly large law firm for the summer instead of lying around the pool like a lot of his friends. To say I am proud of him would be an understatement.

Now that he was back for the summer I loved taking care of him again, making him breakfast every morning and dinner every night, doing his laundry, and basically spoiling him for the simple reason that I could. While he was away at school I joined a yoga class and would attend spin classes three to four times a week. I'm proud that I have been able to keep my figure and have no shortage of offers to date. I suppose the fact that I am petite (5'4"), have big boobs (32D), and can hold my own in a conversation about sports doesn't hurt when it comes to attracting guys. When Brian left for college I did begin to go out more and met some really sweet guys, but since he had been home I had cut back on my social life again so that I could enjoy more time with him.

I was thinking about him that morning when he walked out on the patio with his own cup of coffee in hand.

"Morning Mom," I heard him say as he came over and gave me a kiss on the top of my head.

"Hi Honey. I didn't think you would be up so soon," I smiled.

He laughed. "Guess I'm growing up. Besides, I promised some of my bud's that I haven't seen all summer that we would hang out today."

Brian sat next to me in our deck chairs and, for a moment, we took in all of the sounds, the sights, and the smells that this beautiful morning offered. He was wearing only his boxers and I caught myself looking at him, thinking how grown up he had become in the last year. I briefly wondered if he ever looked at me in my panties and old, tattered t-shirt and admired my body like I was his. But I quickly dismissed the thought. These were just the type of clothes that we always slept in and were used to seeing each other like this. We chatted a bit about our plans for the day. Since he had completed his first year of college it seemed like he had matured ten-fold. He was easy to talk to, funny, and made me feel young again. I was still his mom and we never crossed any of society's boundaries, but it was a more adult relationship now. We could talk about careers, politics, dating, movies we liked, and pretty much anything that I might find myself talking to a guy with if I was out on a date. I learned earlier in the summer that he wasn't a virgin and – while that is something that any mom has a bit of a hard time hearing from "her baby" – he didn't seem to be promiscuous. And anyway, he was old enough now to make those kinds of decisions for himself. In my most honest moments I knew that, with all of the cute girls that apparently adored him, I probably would have been a little worried if he hadn't already lost his virginity.

We finished our coffee and went inside. I made us both some breakfast while he went upstairs to shower and change. After he finished eating he gave me a quick peck on the cheek and said he would be back late in the day. I started in on my usual Saturday morning routine of cleaning the house and doing laundry.

As I was sorting the laundry for some reason I noticed that a pair of panties that I had worn just a few days before didn't seem to be in the pile of laundry. Normally I don't think I would have noticed, except that they were part of three matching sets of bras and panties that I had purchased fairly recently. I went back to the hamper to make sure I had gotten all of the clothes but it was empty. It's not like these were everyday white cotton underwear that would be easy to overlook. I had specifically decided to dress up my lingerie collection a week or two before and bought some expensive, sheer, sexy bras and panties. The kind we like to wear when we are either expecting to hook up or just want to feel sexy under our work clothes without anyone else knowing. I went through the pile again and matched up the new bras and panties, except that one missing pair. They were black, sheer, nylon bikini style with a cute little pink bow at the top surrounded by lace. After a bit, I assumed they must be somewhere in my closet and went on with the wash, figuring they would turn up later.

On Sunday night I was getting ready for bed and went to put the clothes that I had been wearing in the hamper. When I opened it, I looked down and there were the panties I had been wondering about the previous morning. At first I kind of stared at them, thinking I must be losing my mind, but as I came out of my daze, I began to theorize what might have happened. Since it was only Brian and I in the house, the only possible explanation was that he had put them there. Did I leave them someplace and he found them and put them in the hamper? Had he taken them deliberately? Had he taken them accidently, discovered his error and returned them?

I was confused, but not overly concerned. However, I began to take note of which underwear I wore and even where I placed them in the hamper at night. I would make a mental note that I would place them on the right or the left side of the hamper before I took a shower. For the next four days, they were always in the same location that I had placed them. "Who knows?" I thought. Maybe I had just had a mental lapse and they were there all along.

On Friday we often have a happy hour after work which I decided to attend. Brian only works a half day on Friday so I called him at home to tell him I would be maybe an hour or so late getting home, but I would make him dinner when I got there. He told me there was no hurry since he was planning to go to a baseball game with one of his friends and they would just eat at the game. When I got home, he had already left. I went to change and as I opened the hamper to drop my clothes in from the day, my heart skipped a beat. The pink panties that I had worn the previous day were definitely not where I had put them. They were on the right hand side of the hamper and I specifically remembered putting them on top of the shorts I had worn the previous night on the left hand side. The shorts were in the same place – but the panties had been moved. And there was only one person that could have moved them.

I took off my bra, threw on a t-shirt and shorts, went in and made myself a salad, and sat in silence while I ate. Why was he taking them? What was he doing with them? I think I knew – even then – but I was still trying to wrap my head around it all at the moment. I finished eating and poured myself a glass of wine and went outside to the patio to get some fresh air. The wine, combined with the two I had at happy hour, started to make me feel a little light headed. As I began to allow myself to accept that he was using my lingerie when he masturbated, I started to ask myself other questions. Why my PANTIES? Why MY panties? Did he smell them? Taste them? Wrap them around his cock while he played with them? Oh my god, was he wearing them? I suddenly got up and went inside and pulled them from the hamper and took them back outside with me. As I looked at them, I could see no evidence that he had worn them and stretched them out or cum in them. I held them to my face and could still smell myself on them. Oh, god. If I could still smell myself, of course he could too. I then stuck my tongue out and flicked it across the crotch like I imagined he might have done. When I did, I knew there was the faintest taste of my pussy on them. A tingling coursed through me and my nipples hardened. I started to visualize him with my panties as close to his face as they were to mine at the moment.

As if it was disconnected from me and had a mind of its own, my hand holding the panties reached under my shirt and I began to rub them against my breasts. Had these panties been rubbing his cock and now the same panties were rubbing my nipples? I began to rub harder and used my fingers to pull on my nipples, tugging at them, pinching them. I lowered myself in the chair and – as if it were some other person making the noise – began to moan. What the hell was I doing thinking about this? My own son? His cock? But I was too far gone to stop now. I put my wine down and reached inside my shorts, running a finger over the underwear I was wearing. I was soaking wet. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help myself. I was fantasizing about my own son tasting my panties while he jerked himself off. And now, as I tasted them, I put a finger in my own pussy. I rubbed my dirty panties around my lips, believing that maybe I could taste his juices on them like he had with mine. The smell of my womanly scent was thick in my nostrils and it made me even hornier, as if the smell of sex was truly in the air. My finger now rubbing my clit furiously, I pulled my other hand away from my face and grabbed my nipple and pulled and twisted. I began to plunge a finger, then two in and out of my soaking pussy. Geez, I was already about to cum. Every muscle in my legs tightened, my back arched, I heard myself moan Brian's name, and I came. Oh my god – I just had an orgasm while thinking about my own son! I had even called out his name!

As I slowly came back to earth I began to ponder what I was going to say... or do. Do I confront him? Do I ignore it? Maybe all boys go through this. At the moment I was too spent to think rationally. I decided to think about it the next day when I wasn't thinking in the afterglow of one of the most intense orgasms I had experienced in quite a while. I had another glass of wine (this is way more than I usually drink – but I thought it was justified that night) and went to bed before he came home.

As I went to sleep that night I could feel that the panties I had been wearing were still a little wet from my earlier actions, but now I didn't care. Tomorrow would be another day and I would figure it out.

********************

The next day was another glorious Saturday. I was a little groggy from the previous evenings wine but pulled myself out of bed and started the coffee again. As my head began to clear, I remembered why I had felt compelled to drink more than usual that night and began to think again about how to handle the fact that Brian was taking my panties. Before I could come up with a plan he came bounding down the stairs.

"Well good morning gorgeous," he chirped as he came over and hugged me from behind. Was I imagining that I could feel his forearm brush against the underside of my breasts as he gave me a quick but firm hug?

"Hi honey. You are certainly in a good mood this morning," I smiled.

As I turned around he still held me in his arms but I could now see that he was shirtless and had on only his bathing suit. I was hoping he didn't notice my nipples getting hard under my t-shirt as I stared at his muscular chest.

"Are you going to lay out by the pool today?" I wondered as I moved out of his embrace before he could catch me blushing.

"Nah. Tom and I decided last night that we are going to take his dad's boat out on the lake today. You know, one more fling before I have to head back to school next week," he replied. "Sorry. No time for breakfast this morning. Gotta run."

He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, grabbed his flip flops, shirt, and keys and with that he was out the door for the day.

I made myself some toast and pulled a yogurt cup from the refrigerator and took it outside to enjoy in the morning air. It was there that the light bulb went on. I quickly came inside, threw on a pair of shorts, a bra, and a nicer t-shirt and called Tom's mother, Anne.

Anne (sometimes I called her Annie) was one of my nearby neighbors and best friends. We had gotten to know each other when the boys were in grade school and we would do volunteer work at the school together. We were both single moms now and – while the boys had gone off to different schools – both she and I as well as Tom and Brian had remained very close. I could confide in her – and she in me without any judgment or hidden agendas.

"You're up early for a Saturday," she answered the phone without bothering to say hello.

"Yeah. Had a little too much wine last night and fell asleep early," I answered. "Are you busy? Why don't you pop over and have a cup of coffee with me?"

"That sounds good. Be right there," she chirped. Anne and Tom lived across the street one house down from us and within 5 minutes she was walking through the back door with her mug in hand.

"Sounds like the boys have a big day planned," she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Did Brian tell you that they met some girls at the game last night that they were taking to the lake?"

I laughed. "No. I guess he was in too big of a hurry to mention that."

She laughed too. "Tom didn't tell me much about them, except that they were older and that they were 'hot'. I'm guessing that the lake was their idea so that they could see them in their bikinis," she smiled.

"Speaking of bikinis," I started, "I think I discovered something that I'm a little confused about. Our boys are so much alike, I thought that maybe you could give me some advice."

Anne looked up from the newspaper she was casually eyeing while I was talking and put her mug down. "Sure. What's up?"

"Well, I think Brian has been taking my panties from the hamper and... well... 'using' them," I blushed. "Have you ever noticed Tom doing anything like that?"

Anne smiled and gave a short laugh. Not in a mean way – but rather, in a way that said she knew exactly what I was talking about.

"You're just now figuring this out?" she asked. "I know Tom has been doing it since he was in high school and I would bet that Brian has been doing it for just as long. You know how close the two of them are. If one of them is doing anything, I usually assume the other is in on it as well."

I was a little taken back by her casualness. "So... when you figured it out... what did you say? Or do?"

Anne gave that same short laugh again. "Nothing. I mean I guess I don't see the harm. If he's like Tom, all he is doing is 'borrowing' them from the hamper, masturbating, and returning them," she calmly stated. "It's not like he is stealing them and I have to go buy more underwear. And, I don't know about Brian, but Tom doesn't get them messy, if you know what I mean," she smiled. "Ted (her ex) used to love it when I wore sexy lingerie and wanted me to keep it on when we started to have sex. I think it's just a guy thing."

As she was telling me this, I remembered that my ex loved sexy lingerie as well. He was always buying it for me (and his tramp girlfriend too I am sure) and loved it when I wore it to bed. He loved making me wet while I still had them on and would position himself between my legs so that he could taste my wetness through my panties. Maybe it was "just a guy thing."

"Okay. I guess I can see that," I said. "But, I mean, do you think it's the panties in general? Or is it OUR panties that they are attracted to?"

At this point Anne looked at me squarely in the eye, this time there wasn't the same light hearted response. "I'm not sure about that... and I have thought about it," she said seriously. "But I guess my response is that they both seem to be really good k**s that are pretty well adjusted so I don't worry too much about it."

"Also," she added, now laughing again, "I haven't noticed him hitting on me. So, maybe I am being naïve but I think it is just the smell and the feel and maybe the taste of the panties that they are attracted to."

When she mentioned that Brian might be smelling and tasting my panties I blushed again.

"So... I can tell you've thought about that too... but I get the impression that you have a different thought?" she said when she noticed how flushed I had become.

"Yeah," I said softly. "I was thinking that Brian liked smelling ME on those panties," I continued, looking down, unable to look at her in the eye. "I don't know... I guess I just wondered what you thought..."

"I can relate to that," Anne said quietly. "And from the way you are flushed, I get the sense that when you considered that you may be the object of your son's fantasies, it turned you on? Maybe he became an object of your fantasy life?"

I was so embarrassed that all I could do was nod.

Anne got up from her chair and came over to where I was standing. She gave me a sweet, gentle hug and said "Rachel, it's okay with me if you played with yourself while fantasizing about your son. He's a good looking young man. And, if it makes you feel any better, you're not alone. It's just fantasy. I don't feel guilty, and I don't think you should either."

There it was. Our deepest secret that we had ever shared was out there for us to now know about each other. Without saying it, I knew that Anne had cum fantasizing about her son and she knew that I had done the same. Since she didn't feel any guilt over it, I felt a weight had been lifted off of me and I let my guilt go as well. In fact, inside, I felt liberated that I had a new, powerful, fantasy that I could call on whenever the urge struck.
I looked up at her and we both smiled. "Thanks," I said and gave her a hug. "This has been a big help."

After she left, I knew that I was going to say nothing to Brian. If he liked using my panties as a source of fantasy while he masturbated, I was now okay with it. He certainly didn't act like he was embarrassed of ashamed of his fantasies and I didn't feel the need to make him feel any different. Besides, he had probably been doing it for years and – since he was leaving for school the following week – I only had a few more days to have to hide the secret that I knew what he was doing even though he thought he was getting away with it.

********************

The next few days flew by. Between work and getting him ready to go back to school, I didn't have a lot of down time to think about what he might be doing with my panties behind his bedroom door at night.

That's not to say that I didn't cum when I did have time to think about it. Over the next week I noticed that my panties had been moved four times and each time I would take those same panties and rub them over my body when I went to bed dreaming about Brian's cock having been so near. Each time I would rub myself to a nice hard orgasm with my panties still on, leaving a strong scent for Brian to enjoy if he decided to look in the hamper the next day. Maybe that's why the frequency seemed to increase that last week. But what did I know? Maybe four to five times a week was the norm and I was just now catching on.

When he left for school the following Saturday I felt a new level of closeness to him even though he wouldn't know why. I also felt a renewed level of loneliness as it was just me in the house by myself again. I looked forward to his promise that he would come home in a couple of weeks to get some more of his things that he didn't have room to pack in this trip.

The Wednesday before he was supposed to come home, I got a call from Brian telling me he wasn't going to be able to make it. He had pledged a fraternity and there was a party that Saturday night that he had to attend. I was crestfallen but tried not to let him hear it in my voice. While we were talking on the phone I offered to bring his things to him on Saturday. It was only a few hours by car and I didn't have anything planned I told him. He seemed to perk up and said that would be great. He told me what he needed (mostly clothes, a nightstand, and a few of his DVD's) and we agreed that I would be there by lunch, drop the stuff off, get to spend a little time together, and then I would go back so he could enjoy his party. We both hung up excited about seeing each other.

The next day I decided to work from home. About 9:30 I got a call from Anne.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "I still see your car in the driveway."

"Oh. Yes." I told her. "I just decided to work out of the house today. I am going to see Brian this Saturday and bring him some things he left behind so I am going to do some laundry and house stuff today in between calls."

"Going to see Brian, huh?" she said with a wry smile in her voice. "Missing your baby, Rachel?" she laughed.

I laughed too. "Well, yes, I do miss seeing him. But it's not like that. It's just a down and back trip for the day."

"Did he ask you to pack a pair of your panties in with his stuff that he wants you to bring?" she k**ded.

I laughed too. "No. He didn't mention that. But I'm sure he wouldn't mind. As far as I can tell all of my lingerie is still here so he is either going through withdrawal or has a new source of panties that he taps into when he is at school."

"You know what you should do," Anne said, suddenly with an excited, naughty tone in her voice, "you should 'accidently' include a pair of your panties in with his stuff."

"Oh no," I said, suddenly feeling flushed. "I couldn't do that. That would be too over the top."

"How would he know it wasn't an accident?" she asked. "It's perfect. You have deniability and your own little secret that you know what he's going to do with them. Besides, you know he will love it, 'accident' or not."

"I don't think so," I said. "That seems to be crossing some line. Anyway, I have a lot to do," I offered, trying to change the subject. "I need to run."

After we hung up I couldn't get Anne's idea out of my head. The next morning I knew I was going to do it. Hell, I probably knew it as soon as she said it – but couldn't work up the courage to admit it to myself until the next day.

Friday night, as I was going to bed, I put on the same black, sheer panties that I had originally noticed were missing from the laundry weeks before.

As I crawled into bed my hands began to run over my body. Around my tits, down the center to my stomach, then back up. My hands came closer and closer to my nipples as I repeated this motion and I knew – even though I hadn't touched my pussy yet – that I was wet. I was thinking of Brian. I was thinking about him having these panties... smelling my pussy on them... seeing how wet his mommy had gotten wearing them... tasting them... then wrapping them around his big cock and cumming in a torrent.

"Oh, Brian, I want you to taste me for real, baby," I said out loud to no one. "Mommy wants her baby to eat her, to make mommy cum."

By now, I had adjusted to my new reality. I was fantasizing about my own son fucking me without guilt. It was only a fantasy, right? There was no harm in fantasizing.

I reached down and began to run my finger over the outside of my panties, at the clit. They were soaking wet. I put my whole hand over my pussy and rubbed it. I wanted the wetness to permeate the thin fabric. I wanted him to be able to vicariously smell me and taste me through my panties. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to cum. My hand went inside my panties and I began to rub my clit furiously. My other hand pulled hard on my nipple.

"Fuck mommy, Brian," I almost screamed. "Fuck mommy now."

With that I plunged my finger in my pussy and then added another finger, simulating what his hard dick would feel like and I came. But this time I didn't stop. I kept plunging in and out, pulling on my nipple even harder, fucking myself with my fingers. I wanted my son to fuck me and, in my mind, he was doing just that. I could see him above me... his muscular chest, his blue eyes looking into mine, his arms straight so that I could look down and see his hard cock sliding in and out of my wet pussy. God, how I came.

When I couldn't cum any more, I lay exhausted on the bed. As I came back to reality, instead of feeling guilty, I smiled.

"I think Brian is going to have some fun with these panties," I thought, and then drifted off to sleep.

********************

The next morning I packed up all of the things and headed out. I had put the panties I had slept in between several shirts that he had asked me to pack in a travel bag along with his other things. I thought he might open the bag when I was standing there, but I didn't think he would unpack it until I left. If he did open the bag, I didn't want my ruse to be discovered until after I had left. So I didn't put them on top. Besides, that would have seemed too obvious, I thought.

When I got to his apartment it was just before lunch. He met me outside. I carried his bag and he carried the nightstand in to his apartment. I dropped the bag on his bed and he made no move to open it. I did a good job of hiding how nervous and excited I was standing in his bedroom with him and a pair of cum soaked panties that I knew was less than three feet away for him to find. We went to lunch and he walked me around campus to show me where his classes were. We had a wonderful couple of hours together and, at one point, he put his arm around me as we walked. I felt like a school girl again with a crush on the captain of the football team.

When it was time to go he gave me a big hug and I could feel his strong arms around me, holding me tight.

"I've missed you, mom," he said sincerely. "I'm really glad you came."

"Me too, honey. This has been a wonderful day for me. Have fun tonight and be careful."

He kissed me on the cheek and I held his face close to mine for longer than I usually do. I wanted desperately to kiss him on the lips... to feel him hold me close and feel his hands run all over my body. But, of course, I didn't.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you too, mom."

With that I was off. Driving back I was both nervous and incredibly turned on. It felt so naughty but – since he would never know that I had done it on purpose – it couldn't really be naughty... could it?

I didn't hear from him until the following night. When I heard the phone ring, I knew it was him before even seeing the caller I.D. and my heart skipped a beat.

"Hi baby," I answered, trying to hide the excitement in my voice.

"Is that always the way you answer the phone?" he laughed.

"Only when I know it is you," I laughed back at him. "So – how was the party?"

He told me about the party and a few other mundane things that I would never be able to recall since the whole time I was wondering if he had unpacked his bag yet and seen the panties that I had hidden. We chatted for about 15 minutes and I was convinced – since he hadn't said anything – that he must not have opened his bag.

As the conversation finally wound down he said "Uh, mom, I don't know if you know this, but there was a pair of your panties in the things you brought me."

"What?!?" I said, trying to sound surprised and alarmed. "What are you talking about?"

"It's okay," he laughed. "I just didn't know if you even knew you were missing a pair and, if you had noticed, thought you might like to know that they weren't lost."

"Oh gosh," I breathed, my face flushing. My plan was working even though he had no idea. "I guess I must have gotten them mixed up when I was washing your shirts to bring to you."

"No problem," he laughed again. "I didn't know if you were trying to leave me a present or if it was an accident. I'll just hang on to them until I come home."

"Okay. Thanks," I said, maybe a little too quickly. I could feel myself blushing furiously at what I had done and didn't want him to catch on to my nervousness. "I'll talk to you soon honey."

We didn't talk again for two days. I thought about him and my panties in every spare moment I had. I knew that he had to have smelled them, and tasted them. I so wish that I had the nerve to really talk to him about it. But maybe it was better this way – me knowing his secret and "innocently" helping him out.

When he called that Tuesday night the conversation again was about the ordinary events of our days. As we chatted I wondered to myself if he was holding the panties that I had left for him. Was it my imagination or was his breathing sounding somewhat ragged? Could it be that he was stroking himself with them while we chatted? I felt myself flush as we talked. Whether he was jerking off or not, the image was now in my head, and I was getting turned on.

"Is your roommate home tonight," I asked, trying to control my breathing also.

"No, he went to the library for a couple of hours to study," Brian said. It sounded like the phone was unusually close to his mouth. I could hear him breathing and it was having an effect on me.

"Um, baby, about those panties that I accidently put in your bag," I started, hoping I didn't sound guilty when I said the word 'accidently.' "I hope you didn't show your roommate."

"Gosh mom no," he said, very sincerely. "Like I said, I just figured that it was either an accident or you were trying to give me a little present. Either way, it's none of his business."

I laughed. "Thank you, baby. It was an accident, but I'm not sure what you mean by a present. Would you think it was a present if I had done that on purpose?"

I started to unbutton my blouse and my shorts as I was asking. If he was going to jerk off while we talked, I didn't see why I shouldn't take care of myself at the same time.

"Well, you know..." Brian stammered. "Sometimes a girl will leave a pair of her panties for a guy as kind of a trophy or to... you know."

"Masturbate with?" I couldn't believe I had just said that to my own son – but I had, even as I stepped out of my shorts.

"Gosh mom," Brian breathed into the phone. "Um, yeah... some guys like to have a girl's underwear when they, you know, do that."

I laid down on the couch now. I was naked except for the white thong that I had on. As I looked down to see my hand glide over them, I could see my flesh tones through the sheer material.

"I see," I breathed back at him. "So... I am guessing you are one of those guys? That's why you thought they might be a present."

My hands were all over my body now. I didn't even care if Brian could hear my ragged breathing over the phone – which I was still trying to control – but not having much success.

"Well, yeah, I guess. I do like it when a girl gives me her panties," he said. Brian was having a hard time controlling his breathing now too.

"But what if it's your mom that leaves them for you, baby? That doesn't bother you?" I ran my hand over my own panties and could feel how wet they were.

"Hell no, mom," Brian answered, his mouth closer to the phone now. "In fact, even better. There is no one that I am closer to. I love looking at them and touching them and..." His voice trailed off.

"And what baby? It's okay. Tell me what you like about my – I mean a woman's panties. You're holding them right now, aren't you? Tell me what you like about them," I breathily said into the phone. God, I was hoping I wouldn't scream into the phone in the midst of an orgasm while we were talking.

"I can't mom," he pleaded. "I don't think it would be right."

"Honey, you can tell me," I said. Then, with a small laugh I said "There is nothing you're going to tell me that I haven't probably already done... or maybe doing right now," I added in almost a whisper.

"I like smelling them. I actually love the way they smell. I can tell you were excited when you were wearing these, weren't you mom?"

"Um, yes baby, I guess that I was. Sometimes even your old mom gets images in her head that turn her on." Somehow speaking about myself to my son in the second person seemed to be less nasty. But my hands were inside my panties now rubbing my clit, my breathing increasingly choppy.

"I could tell," he said. "I could see where you had gotten them wet with your pus... er... juices."

"It's okay honey," I soothed. "I know you aren't a virgin anymore and know about a girl's pussy. It's okay if you say it." God – I was on fire. "You're masturbating right now, aren't you Brian? I can tell from your breathing... that you're... jerking off."

Silence.

Then, in a whisper, "yes."

"I'm glad you are enjoying them baby," I whispered back.

As much as I wanted to hear him cum with my panties, I wasn't sure if I was ready for him to hear me cum yet and I reluctantly thought that I had pushed it about as far as I ever would have thought possible even hours before.

"Mommy's going to let you take care of yourself now baby," I said soothingly. "We'll talk again soon."

With that I hung up and treated myself to the most intense orgasm of my life.

"Oh, my god," I thought. "What am I doing?"

********************

It had been three days since Brian and I had spoken and I had listened to him tell me he was masturbating with my panties while we talked. Needless to say, it was a conversation and memory that rarely left my consciousness in that time. It's not like I hadn't enjoyed it. In fact, that was part of the issue I was grappling with. I had enjoyed it. Further, as soon as we hung up, I had fingered myself to an incredible orgasm.

Up until that point, I had been okay with masturbating while fantasizing about my son – because it was just that – a very naughty fantasy that only I (well, and my best friend, Anne) knew about.

But now I had let it progress to a new level. Shit, I had even encouraged it. It was one thing to tacitly know that Brian was masturbating thinking about me, but another to listen to him while he did it. To make it worse, I felt sure he knew that I was doing the same thing while we were talking. I was wracked with guilt. The only saving grace was that I had hung up before either one of us had cum. At least I had SOME sense of decency, I rationalized.

When Brian called that night I was still feeling guilty – but had resolved to address it with him and put a stop to any further inappropriate conversations between the two of us.

"Hi honey," I answered, trying to set a somewhat serious tone off the bat.

"Hey gorgeous," he said cheerfully. "Long time, no chat."

"Brian, before we chat anymore, I want to talk about the other night," I said sternly. "I love you and love that you and I can talk about anything – but our conversation last Tuesday was not the kind of conversation any mother should have with her son. I just want you to know that I'm sorry that I encouraged it and it won't happen again."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. I hoped I hadn't come across as judgmental of him.

"Brian? Baby? Are you there?" I asked, this time my tone was softer.

"Yeah mom, I'm here," he said. I tried to read into his voice what he was thinking but I couldn't.

"Geez mom, I hear what you are saying. But I guess I have a different take on it," he explained. "I loved that we were able to talk like that to each other. I can't tell you how hot it was for me and how much I ca--, um, enjoyed it after we hung up."

"Honey, that's not what I'm saying..." I interrupted.

"I know mom," he said before I could go on. "I know it may seem weird for most mom and sons, but it seemed okay for us is all I am trying to say. I love you mom. And I want to be able to talk to you about anything, even if it is about sex. Actually, especially if it is about sex. Who better to talk to when I have questions about things like that than your mom or dad?" he reasoned.

I knew he was rationalizing, at least somewhat, but he was also hitting a soft spot with me. Since his dad had left, it was just him and me. I knew that I was probably over-protective, but I also knew that I had to fill the role of both mom and dad in his life, since his own dad spent less and less time with him as the years went by.

"But honey," I said, trying to gain control of the conversation again, "it's one thing for us to talk about things like sex and masturbation, and it's another for us to listen to each other as we do it."

"Gosh mom, you were playing with yourself too?" he asked, obviously excited.

Uh oh, I thought. I knew that I had accidently confirmed what I thought he already knew. How was I going to get out of this? I quickly decided to try the clinical, honest approach.

"Well, yes," I offered, somewhat unsteadily. "Guys aren't the only ones that masturbate. We all do from time to time."

"See mom?" he said kind of laughing, "That's the kind of thing I am talking about. I know that everyone does it, but I guess I never actually thought that you did it too. I mean I guess I never thought of you in that way and it's kind of nice that now I know you weren't mad at me."

I could feel whatever upper hand that I was trying to achieve was quickly disappearing. But I also needed him to know that I loved him no matter how I felt about what we had done just a few days before.

"Honey, I think you are missing what I am trying to say," I said. "Of course I wasn't mad. And you know that there is nothing that you could do that would ever change my love for you. It's just that I thought the other night crossed some imaginary line in my mind that a mom shouldn't cross with her son. Does that make sense?"

There was silence on the other end of the line for what seemed like a long time – but it was probably only a few seconds.
"I guess," Brian finally said. "But does that mean you don't want me to ask you about things I wonder about when it comes to sex?"

"No. Of course not," I said, trying to sound motherly. "You know that I will always be just a phone call away if you need me." And then, trying to lighten the mood, I laughed "But maybe you can try and keep your hands off yourself while we are talking."

Brian laughed too. "Okay," he said. "I'll try."

We began to chat about his classes, his fraternity, and his friends. I filled him in on some of the neighborhood gossip and it felt like I had my friend back again. He was funny and charming. Before we hung up, he asked me if he could ask one more question about sex that he had been thinking about since our last conversation. I told him I would be glad to answer if I could.

"Well," he started, seeming as if he was searching for the right words, "now that I've told you that I like playing with your panties when I... well, you know..."

I smiled at his struggle to try to not cross over the line. "It's okay honey, you can say 'masturbate'," I laughed.

Brian kind of laughed too. "Okay, when I masturbate. But is that weird? That I like to do it with my own mom's panties? I mean I know that Tom does it too. He and I have talked about it. But I wondered if you thought I was some sort of freak or something?"

"Honey, I didn't think you were 'a freak' when we were talking the other night, and I still don't. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I could understand how that might feel good to a guy. Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah, it does. But I thought of one more," he laughed.

"Okay, one more," I laughed too.

"Well, you said earlier that you were... um... masturbating too. I mean when we were talking the other night," he said. "Does that mean that it turned you on to think of me... you know... jerking off with your panties?"

Oh god, I thought. How do I answer this? If I said no, he would know I was lying. But if I said yes, well, that didn't seem like the kind of thing a mother should say to her son. So I tried to be evasive.

"I'll just say that you caught me at a vulnerable moment," I tried.

"Come on mom," Brian begged. "Be honest."

I was stuck and didn't know what to say so I said nothing for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to answer.

Brian filled in the silence. "If I told you that I was holding your panties right now and every now and then while we have been talking, that I had smelled them, would that make you... you know, 'vulnerable' again?"

Again, I could feel my nipples harden. And I squirmed in my chair. I didn't say anything, but I knew Brian could hear my breathing quicken, despite my trying to control it.

"Do you think it's weird that I love to hold my own mom's panties to my face and smell them? And taste them?" he asked, his breathing more shallow now too. "Does that bother you mom? Knowing how much I love holding them while I am jerking off?"

I could only think of one thing to say. "No," I whispered.

"I'm glad mom," he breathed into the phone. "I want you to know how much I love holding them while we talk. It makes me feel closer to you, like you are sharing something very intimate with me."

Even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn't help my own body's reaction to hearing my son describe how my lingerie excited him. My hand involuntarily ran over my breast. I could feel how hard my nipples were through my t-shirt. Then my hand traveled down my stomach toward my shorts. I wanted to stop, but couldn't help myself. I knew that he was masturbating with the panties that I had purposely put into his bag. I knew that the thought of him smelling my scent on them was the source of endless fantasies that I had been living with for weeks now. Hearing his voice while we both played out the fantasy in our heads did seem intimate... and even more powerful than when I was in bed alone at night.

"I'm... I'm glad that you feel that way, baby," I finally said. "If they make you feel closer to me, then I am glad that you have them. Maybe we better hang up now."

"Please don't hang up mom," he pleaded. "I want to talk to you... to hear you while I... while I jerk off."

"But baby, we just talked about this. I don't know if this is right," I tried, sounding unconvincing even to myself.

"Please mom, you know that what I am doing with your panties right now, don't you," he asked.

"Yes," I whispered, my hand unsnapping my shorts and taking the zipper down.

"Are you 'vulnerable' tonight mom?" he said in a low tone, speaking closely into the phone. "I want you to tell me this time. Are you touching yourself?"

My mind raced. I could picture him with his hard cock out, working his hand up and down, holding my panties around it. I wanted to hang up and end this conversation... but I couldn't. I was too turned on. My hand reached my pussy and it was on fire. My clit was hard and I rubbed my middle finger over it in a circle. I cradled the phone against my shoulder and with my other hand pulled on my nipple.

I answered slowly, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. "Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch my pussy while you talk to me? While you... jerk off?"

I didn't know who this person was that was talking to her own son like this, but – at the moment – I didn't care. I was so wet that I knew it would only be moments before I would cum. And to make it even worse, I didn't even care if Brian was going to hear me.

"Oh god," Brian moaned. "Yes, I would love it if you were doing it with me mom. God, I am so hard thinking about you touching your pussy. Is it wet mom? Is it as wet as it was when you were wearing these panties?"

"Mmmm," I moaned. "Yes baby, mommy is wet. Very wet. And my clit is hard right now too. I could cum any time now. Do you want to hear mommy cum, baby? Would you like that?"

I could hear Brian breathing in shorter and shallower gasps now and I knew he was close to cumming too.

"Yes mommy, cum for me," he gasped.

My eyes closed I pictured Brian with my panties near his face, inhaling my scent, and then sticking his tongue out and taking the crotch of the panties into his mouth, trying to taste me through them. My finger worked my clit furiously now and I felt it get even bigger. I arched my back and plunged a finger in, then another, ramming them in and out.

"Aaaahhh," I gasped, as my head flew back and the phone dropped to the carpet below. I was lost in my own orgasm and didn't even notice the phone on the floor until I started returning to a state of consciousness. I quickly picked it up.

"I'm sorry, baby, are you still there? I dropped the phone," I said, my breathing ragged.

"God mom, that was so hot," he said. "I don't think I have ever cum that hard."

"Me, neither baby," I said, still struggling to gain my breath and composure. "I think we better hang up now. I need to get ready for bed."

"Okay mom, and thanks," he said, also obviously out of breath, "I hope we can do this again."

"We'll see," I blushed. "Goodnight honey."