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Kevin's Story
Chapter 1


It was nearing 6:30 when Kevin Nielsen heard the Jeep Wagoneer pull
into the garage adjoining the kitchen. Moments later, the door
between the two opened, and Heather, his mom, lurched through with
a bag of groceries in each arm.

Kevin jumped down off the high stool he'd been on saying "Here, Mom,
let me help with that." He grabbed one of the bags, then leaned in
dutifully for her kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks, sport," Heather said. "Mmmm, smells good. What's
cooking?"

"Ragu, again," he said wrinkling his forehead in a frown. "I wish
you'd teach me more stuff to make so I could have a bigger rep-
repa- repatore."

"Repertoire," she corrected, as she began putting the groceries
away, "nice try though. Listen, Kev, I don't mind simple stuff.
I'm thrilled that you take it upon yourself to make anything.
Honestly, you don't have to, I can still cook, you know."

"I know," the youth said, "and some nights, like when I have
practice, I have to let you. But you work so hard, double shifts
sometimes, that I just want to help."

"You help more than is healthy for a 14-year-old," she said, "you
should be out to all hours with your friends, making me mad, instead
of hanging out with your old Mom."

"Oh, Mom, 34's not old. Just well-seasoned."

"I'll 'well-season' you, you little squirt," she laughed aiming a
playful smack at his head. Then she let her hand linger on his
tousled brown hair, his father's hair. Jack had been gone six years
now this coming January. It wasn't fair to the k** to have to grow
up like this. It had been extremely tough on both of them to lose
him so suddenly - another victim of a drunk driver. To the world
he was just an old statistic now, but Heather and Kevin still felt
the void. She smothered Kevin in a hug.

"Hey, I've got to stir this sauce," he called out, muffled in her
bosom.

"Okay," she said absently, then left to clean up for supper.

Kevin watched as his mother left the kitchen. Her nurse's uniform
was still crisp and white as when she left that morning. He loved
her uniform, the white shoes, the white hose climbing those great
legs up to that nice looking... Kevin shook his head abruptly. He
couldn't believe he was sitting here analyzing his Mom's body the
same way he and his friends analyzed their teachers and the girls.
And yet, didn't most of his discomfort at being hugged stem from
being smothered between two large breasts? They certainly were
bigger than any other... he shook his head again. "Concentrate on
dinner," he told himself.

Upstairs, Heather was changing out of her work clothes into the
sweats she usually wore around the house. As always, she stood in
front of the full length mirror as she stripped. She was in no way
narcissistic, but derived pleasure from the clothes on her body
rather than her body itself.

To all outward appearances, she looked like an everyday nurse,
except for a few details. Like the high heels she wore to work,
despite the fact that all other nurses in her unit had long since
switched to the more comfortable sneakers. Or the old navy blue
cardigan which had been Jack's. But these were minor compared to
what was underneath.

The cardigan lay on the bed, the dress in a pool about her feet, and
Heather gazed into the mirror at what remained. The high heels did
give way to the hose Kevin had admired, but they were not the panty
hose anyone would expect, but real stockings, climbing from her
tapered ankles to the middle of her creamy white thighs, held in
place by a lacy white garter belt. Her panties were all of lace as
well, save for the crotch, and Heather could clearly see the dark
black of her pubic hair through the lace. Above her waist, the silk
chemise hung from thin shoulder straps, caressing her chest and
stomach. Sensuously she lifted this over her head to reveal the bra
beneath. Although this too was lacy, it was nowhere near as
attractive as the other pieces. This is because most sexy bras were
made to fit women with figures slightly less endowed than Heather's
40-28-38. Her sexiest bras were half-cups, which just would not do
for daily work wear.

Heather's fascination for sexy undergarments grew out of her teen-
age desire to appear more feminine. It had been this penchant
toward femininity which had attracted Jack to her in an age when
most women were trying to out-man the men. He had introduced her
to the world of sexy negligees, naughty and nice underthings,
peignoirs, camisoles, teddies, body stockings, garter belts and
everything. It was the only thing about their sexual relationship
which had been more than pedestrian. She would model sexy things
for him, they would flirt and tease each other, but it always ended
the same, Jack on top, grunting, rolling over, snuggling a bit, then
falling asleep.

It was not as bad as it sounded, he was a wonderful man, but his
sexual imagination began and ended at lingerie. In the time since
his death, Heather had tried to have relationships with other men,
who also appreciated her taste in underwear. But of the few she
took to bed, none was ever interested in more than his own pleasure.
She stopped dating, and began to believe that all the wonderful
things she'd heard about sex were mere myth.

Now, she sought her own femininity which had attracted Jack to her
in an age when
most women were trying to out-man the men. He had introduced her
to the world of sexy negligees, naughty and nice underthings,
peignoirs, camisoles, teddies, body stockings, garter belts and
everything. It was the only thing about their sexual relationship
which had been more than pedestrian. She would model sexy things
for him, they would flirt and tease each other, but it always ended
the same, Jack on top, grunting, rolling over, snuggling a bit, then
falling asleep.

It was not as bad as it sounded, he was a wonderful man, but his
sexual imagination began and ended at lingerie. In the time since
his death, Heather had tried to have relationships with other men,
who also appreciated her taste in underwear. But of the few she
took to bed, none was ever interested in more than his own pleasure.
She stopped dating, and began to believe that all the wonderful
things she'd heard about sex were mere myth.

Now, she sought her own relief whenever she felt the urge. In
addition to her wonderful underthings, she had a vibrator which
she'd ordered from a catalog. It was plain, utilitarian, but it got
the job done for her, which no man ever had. The only extravagance
she allowed herself was periodic trips to Victoria's Secret.
"Secret, indeed," she mused, for now that Jack was gone, no one but
she knew of her taste in clothes. Not even Kevin knew, for she hand
washed everything in her bathroom when he wasn't home, though she
often wondered exactly why she hid this from him.

But dinner was waiting, and u*********sly imitating her son, she
shook her head to clear her thoughts, changed into some plain
underwear and her sweats, and headed downstairs.


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Kevin's Story
Chapter 2


The next day was a school holiday, so Kevin slept in as Heather left
the house for work. Later he woke up, got some breakfast, did the
dishes and sat down in the living room. He felt lazy to not be
doing anything, and tried to think of a chore to do that would
really please his Mom. He decided to try doing laundry, it didn't
look too hard.

He ran upstairs to grab the hamper from the bathroom, brought it
down to the basement, shook it out and began separating colors. He
noticed, however, that the uniform his Mom had on yesterday was not
among the dirty clothes. Knowing she'd never wear the same clothes
two days in a row, Kevin ran back up to her bedroom, figuring she'd
left it there.

He found it in a heap on the floor, along with several other things.
With a jolt, Kevin realized that they were underthings, the likes
of which he'd never seen before. In amazement, he discovered the
garter belt. The chemise he ignored, but when he came to her bra
and panties, he began to feel a not uncomfortable tightening in his
groin as his penis began expanding against the front of his pajamas.
Unsnapping the pants, he let it pop free as he handled the silky
sexy underwear. His eyes bugged out in amazement at the size of the
bra, which a small tag advertised to be 40-DD. He had always known
they were big, but...wow! The panties were barely a wisp in his
hand. Tentatively, not knowing what drove him, Kevin brushed the
fabric of the panties against his prick. The silky smooth fabric
felt electrically cool against his hot cock. The pattern of the
lace ground erotically against his prick-head and his whole member
jerked and throbbed with excitement. He wrapped the crotch around
his rod and began slowly stroking himself, meanwhile holding and
staring at the bra. His imagination began to run away with him.
He imagined what his mom looked like nude, her long dark hair fanned
out around her head, her green eyes smoldering, her large breasts
hanging off her chest. He recalled the feeling of those breasts on
his face, and his young cock suddenly dumped its seed into the
crotch of his mom's panties.

Startled, Kevin dropped the bra and panties, then hurriedly mixed
the clothes back up in what he hoped was an approximation of how
he'd found them. Jumping up, he pulled up his pajamas and fled the
room. Back downstairs, he mechanically sorted and washed the
clothes, with confused thoughts running through his head all the
while. He loved his mom, but not that way. Or did he? He liked
the feel of her, the smell of her, and he especially liked the idea
of her in (and out of) those sexy clothes. He hoped she wouldn't
notice the dried spunk on her clothes but would just wash them out.
Thoroughly confused, he finished the laundry, then went out to
soccer practice, where he could forget about all that stuff.

Later that afternoon, Heather arrived home to an empty house. The
markerboard on the fridge said "Soc. Prac. Luv U -K" in Kevin's
familiar scrawl. She smiled over that, then headed up the stairs.
Whenever Kevin was away, she could really dress up in her favorite
things, then relax with her vibrator. She decided a nice bath would
be in order to start. But once she was undressing in the main
bathroom, she noticed the hamper was missing. Perplexed, she headed
downstairs to find it empty next to the wash machine with all the
clean clothes neatly stacked on the washer and drier. "What a great
k**," she thought as a surge of love and pride filled her eyes with
tears. It wasn't fair, no 14-year-old should be that responsible.
He should be enjoying his youth more. And yet here he was taking
on more responsibility on his day off. She wished she could do
something for him.

Back upstairs, she decided against the bath. The done laundry
reminded her about the stuff she had to hand wash in the basket in
her closet. Returning to her bedroom, she gathered up the clothes
she'd thoughtlessly left on the floor yesterday, piled them on the
vanity in her smaller private bathroom, then ran a sink full of
warmish water.

As she picked up the panties, however, she noticed the peculiar,
scaly stain in the crotch. She wasn't extremely experienced, but
she did recognize dried cum-stains when she saw them. At first she
was taken aback, then she was angry, finally she was slightly
amused. "That k**," she thought, "It's nice to know that he's a
normal teen in some respect. Sometimes I forget he's just entering
puberty and not a grown-up. I'll have to have a talk with him,
though."

Quickly, she finished washing her things, then hung them from the
rod of her small shower. She returned to her bedroom and stripped,
then slipped into her outfit du jour: black fishnet stockings, a red
garter belt, red panties with side ribbon ties, and a red half-cut
push-up bra. Over this she wore long silk dressing gown. Next she
darkened the room, drawing the curtains and turning out the lights,
save for a small lamp on her night table. For a while she lounged
in the armchair with her eyes closed, luxuriating in the feeling of
the clothes on her body, especially that of the silk over her
nipples. After a bit, she stood, and headed over to the full length
mirror. She teasingly dipped her gown, showing first one, then the
other shoulder. Sashaying back and forth, she continued to tease
her reflection, alternately dropping each shoulder to display more
and more flesh. Once again, she was delighting not in the view of
her own body, but of the lingerie.

Finally, she dropped the robe altogether, and began running her
hands over her body. From her thighs, the tops of the stockings,
under the straps of the garter belt, up over her waist, under her
breasts, over her nipples, up to her shoulders her hands traced
their path, then back down. This caressing became more insistent,
then one hand stayed at her crotch, as the other moved to her
breast, and the caresses became localized. In a near daze, she
untied the bows at her hips and luxuriously drew the panties from
between her legs, making sure every possible inch of silk ran over
the inflamed lips of her pussy. As the last bit of silk flicked off
her clit, she shivered and knew she was ready for the vibrator.
Silently she cursed herself, as usual, in her hurry to view herself,
she had neglected to move the armchair in front of the mirror.
Quickly she did this, then grabbed the vibrator and settled into
position.

Heather began with the toy the same way she had with her hands,
rubbing it all over her body at the lowest setting. Again she
localized her ministrations, first on her breasts. The tingling
sensation flooded out from her nipples, spreading warmth throughout
her body. She moved the vibrations up two notches, then lay the
machine between her breasts and squeezed them together. The bra got
in the way, so with an expert flick of the wrist behind her back,
she sprang the clasps, then pulled the cups away in front. Her
pendulous breasts barely sagged at all with the removal of the
support. She pushed them together around the buzzing instrument.
The insistent vibrations set off waves of ecstacy in her pussy. She
felt herself getting more and more excited, so she throttled the
vibrator back a notch and began running it between her pussy lips.
A minute of this had her ready for much more, so she angled the end
out, aiming the tip for the center of her moist womanhood and
plunged nearly the whole length into her pussy.

Once it was firmly embedded, she dialed it up to full power, and
threw her head back in ecstacy. The vibrations coursed through her
body, rattling her very brain with their erotic intensity. They
seemed to pulse throughout her, but seemed most insistent in her
erogenous zones. Her nipples cried out to be squeezed. Clamping
her thighs together to hold that pleasure dispensing instrument in
place, she rocked forward on the chair and grabbed at her tits,
kneading and pulling the flesh. With abandon, she grabbed one in
both hands and heaved the nipple up to her mouth. Sucking wildly,
she dropped one hand to her crotch and, almost delicately, slipped
a finger down on her clit. The confluence of erotic stimulation was
about to drive her over the edge.

As she approached her orgasm, she felt herself fiercely wanting a
cock, any cock, to be ramming into her instead of this lifeless
plastic. She wanted it to fill her fully, then spurt its seed all
over her, to run down her face and tits and stomach and pussy and
thighs, to dry all over her and her wonderful lingerie. Unbidden,
but not entirely unwelcome, the thought of her son Kevin spraying
his warm goo into the crotch of her panties sprang to mind. At that
instant, she was swept over the edge and with a long, thin, teeth-
clenching wail, she came in ecstacy!

Minutes later, after catching her breath, she lay flat on her back
on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Although her routine had not
varied, this orgasm had been one of her best in months. Embarrassed
even though she was alone, she wondered if her thoughts of Kevin had
anything to do with it. "Don't be ridiculous," she told herself,
turning red in embarrassment and anger, "You can't feel that way
over a f******n-year-old. He's much too young. No self-respecting
woman would have anything to do with such a young man."

But he was a nice k**, and so mature for his age. There were so
many ways he could be hurt by unscrupulous women out there. It
would be terrible if he turned out like those other jerks I've slept
with, only interested in their own pleasure. I could teach him so
much. And who would know? I love him so.....

"Stop it!" she now told herself out loud. "get your feelings under
control, Heather. Not only is he so young, HE IS ALSO YOUR SON!
That would be i****t. Now snap to it and let's get going."

She hopped out of bed, almost physically thrusting the thought from
her mind. She changed into her regular clothes, washed the lingerie
she'd just used and went downstairs to fix supper.

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Kevin's Story
Chapter 3


Although she had no desire to pursue her thoughts of that afternoon,
Heather realized that evening that she would have to discuss the
stains she found in her panties with Kevin. She had no problem with
his masturbating (especially given her own proclivities in that
area), but it would not do to have him jacking off in her panties
whenever she wasn't looking. For one thing, the harsher scrubbing
necessary would ruin some of the more delicate items. For another,
it just wasn't right for a son to do that with his Mom's under-
clothes. For a while she thought she might buy him some panties for
him to use for that purpose, but that didn't seem like the right
solution.

Finally, when she went in to kiss him goodnight she decided to speak
to him. She sat down on the edge of his bed, facing him, and said
"Kevin, there's something I'd like to talk to you about."

"Yeah?" he answered, tentatively.

"Um, yes, well, I really appreciate your doing the laundry today,
but um," she pulled the previously soiled panties out of her pocket
and held them out, "it's, uh, not really polite for a young man to
masturbate in a lady's underthings and not to wash them out."

Kevin blanched, then covered his face with his pillow. "I'm sorry,"
he wailed, muffled by the pillow, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do
it. I don't know why... I'm sorry."

Heather's heart melted to see him so distraught. "Honey, honey,
no," she said gently, trying to pull the pillow away from his face,
"I'm not upset. I'm not angry. I understand. It's okay."

She pulled the pillow away, but the boy covered his face with his
arms, still mortified.

"Kevin, it's alright," she leaned down and hugged her son, kissing
his forehead, then sat up. "There's nothing wrong with masturbat-
ing, and I'm not mad about that."

He peeked out one eye. "You're not?" he sniffed, hopeful but still
unbelieving.

"No, of course not," she insisted, pulling his arms down, then
brushing away one stray tear. "It's just that Mommy has some
expensive underwear, and she'd hate to see it get ruined that way."
Heather knew her little underwear secret was out of the bag anyway,
so she decided not to pretend about it anymore.

"I know," Kevin said, "I didn't think about that. Mom, I didn't
even know you had such nice stuff."

"Well, I do. It's my special secret. And now you share that secret
with me. Can you keep my secret, Kev?"

"Sure, Mom, of course I will. But what's it for? I mean, why do
you have special underwear and regular stuff?"

"It makes me feel nice to wear it. It makes me feel..." Heather
paused.

"What? How does it make you feel?" Kevin insisted.

"Oh, boy," Heather thought, "I've done it now." But she decided not
to lie. It was important to her that she and Kevin maintain an open
attitude about sex. She wanted him to be able to talk to her about
anything. Kevin would sense if she were lying, and so might not
discuss things frankly with her in the future. So...

"It makes me feel sexy."

"But Mom, you're already the sexiest woman I know, you don't need
anything else to do that."

"Thank you, Kevin, I appreciate that. But I don't look at myself
that way and frankly, you shouldn't either."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it," he said earnestly. "I really
think you're beautiful and I love you."

"I love you too. But like I said, I don't feel sexy until I'm
wearing that stuff. It makes me feel feminine. Besides, you must
find it sexy, too. After all, look what you did to it."

Kevin blushed deeply, but to his credit didn't squirm or retreat
beneath the pillow again. "Um, it wasn't so much the panties, it
was the bra."

"Hmm, that bra wasn't so special," she said.

"Well, it's just, I'd never known, well, I mean, I uh, uh," Kevin
floundered and dropped his head.

Heather put her hand on her son's shoulder and said gently, "It's
okay honey, you can be honest with me about anything. I'll answer
you honestly, too."

Without looking up Kevin said in a strangely deep voice, "I never
knew how big your breasts were and the tag said 40-DD and I thought
about you and it excited me."

Heather was not as taken aback as she might have been. Guiltily she
thought about her own fantasies that afternoon, them pushed them
from her mind.

"It's alright," she said, then tried to deflect her son's agitation
with another tack. "Is there anything you want to ask me?"

Kevin was silent.

"Anything, honey, I mean it. Would you like to know when I started
wearing these things?"

Kevin nodded.

"Your Dad first bought them for me. He'd have me model them. They
excited him, too."

"Do they excite you?" he asked.

"In a way."

"Do you masturbate?"

"Uh, yes, I do,"

"Really?" Kevin picked up his head, and sounded surprised.

"Yes, of course, it's not some terrible thing. Everyone does it.
Now, Kevin, I don't want you ever to be ashamed or frightened to ask
me about anything having to do with sex. Is that clear?"

Kevin nodded.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"Ummm."


"It's okay, honey, what is it?"

"Ummm, all this talk about sex and stuff has made me hard."

Heather was surprised, then laughed at herself a little. She HAD
said "anything"

"Uh, hmmm," she said, "and what about that?"

"Well, I don't know, I just thought I'd tell you," he said.

"Okay, fine," she said, but felt that there was more to it than
that. "Did you want to show it to me?"

"Well, umm, I don't know, kind of, but I don't know if it's okay."

"Of course it's okay," she said, "remember, there aren't any secrets
about this type of thing between us, okay?"

"Okay," he said.

Kevin was thoroughly confused. First of all, he was confused by the
feelings he'd had about his Mom that afternoon. The mortification
over being caught had given way to her gentle attitude and he was
relieved to see she wasn't angry. But the tenor of the discussion
had recalled to him all those feelings from before, and he could
hardly take his eyes from the panties she held. He remembered their
feeling against his throbbing young cock, and that cock had
reasserted itself under his blankets.

Moreover, although she was only wearing a baggy sweater and jeans,
he could see the swell of his Mom's breasts under the black cable
knit, and by the way they moved when she did, he thought she was
braless. This only served to increase his hard-on, and now he
wanted nothing more than to show it off to this woman he adored.
And although part of him believed it was wrong, she was sitting here
telling him that they could discuss anything about sex.

So without further ado, he flipped aside the blanket. His Mom
seemed to gasp slightly as bulge in his pajamas became visible, then
he unsnapped the pants and it popped out. For a moment, the two of
them looked at it as it stood there. The Heather swallowed and said
quietly, "Very nice."

In fact, it was more than very nice. For a 14-year-old it was
extremely nice. Almost seven inches long, it was still rather
skinny. It jutted up from inside his pajamas, curving back slightly
as it neared the flaring head, which just now was an angry shade of
red.

"Does it hurt you now?" Heather asked him.

"A little," he said, "'cause it's so hard."

"What's made it this hard?" she asked.

"Just talking about this stuff," he said, then paused and admitted
"and you."

"Me?" she said, surprised.

"Yes," he said simply, "I can't help it, you just do."

"Does it normally go away by itself?" she asked.

"Not usually, I have to masturbate it."

"Go ahead, then," she said.

"Now? In front of you?"

"If you like, I'll leave," she said, making as if to get up.

"No," Kevin protested, his mind racing, "you can stay if you want."

Kevin really wanted to do this for her, but he couldn't shake the
persistent feeling that it wasn't right. In fact, it was this
feeling which made it that much more exciting. He wasn't aware of
the term "i****t" and it's full implications.

Heather was, though, yet she still felt compelled to see this
through. It was clear that Kevin had to work through these
feelings, and to turn her back on him now may do irreparable harm
to his feelings and their relationship. Yet when that young tool
sprang into view, she couldn't suppress an inward shudder of
excitement. Her thoughts of this afternoon returned, and she didn't
quite have the strength to banish them again. So she sat and
stayed.

Wordlessly, Kevin began to stroke his cock. His rhythm was fast and
furious, and the already red skin began to turn redder from the
friction. In a way it hurt, but his feelings were such that he had
to stroke this monster down quickly. His Mom winced to see the
force with which he attacked his rod.

"Stop, Kevin, don't" she said without thinking. "You'll hurt
yourself that way, is that how you always masturbate?"

"Usually."

"Here let me show you."

And before she knew it, her hand was wrapped around his young cock
and she was lightly, gently stroking it up and down. Kevin was
shocked, but before he had a chance to protest, the feelings from
his groin rendered him speechless. It was incredible! Just the
fact that having another hand not your own do this was terrific.
But to do it so well! It was several minutes before the novelty of
that situation allowed him to realize that it was his Mom jacking
him off.

For her part, Heather realized too late what she was doing. But
that realization only came in a small, rapidly shrinking part of her
mind. The rest of her consciousness was devoted to that magnificent
boy-cock in front of her. She didn't see it as her son, but as the
answer to her yearnings of the afternoon. What remained of her
normal state of mind had already begun to rationalize the action
anyway. It was only a hand-job. They weren't having sex. Besides,
if she let him go on masturbating like that, he would rub himself
raw. She would show him the correct technique and that would be it.

Kevin continued to revel in the feelings. His hips strained off the
bed. He was unused to such light, caressing ministrations, and the
elusiveness of his Mom's grasp was driving him crazy. Normally, he
pounded himself quickly until he came, but this was a whole new
level of pleasure.

His Mom speeded up her strokes, but only increased her pressure
lightly. Kevin had fallen into a rhythm beneath her hand, bucking
up as she slid it down. Reaching out with the panties still held
in her left hand, she caressed his balls softly. The brown hair on
them seemed barely there, it was so soft and downy. She felt his
nuts churning beneath the fabric.

Kevin felt the added stimulus and knew he couldn't hold back much
longer. Already she had jacked him far longer than he normally
lasted, because the lighter pressure counteracted the added erotic
benefits of the situation. But the moment of truth was at hand.

Without warning, he arched his back one last time, then fired his
load up into the air. Spurt after spurt of hot cum fountained into
the air to land on his belly, or his Mom's hand. She continued to
stroke him, firmer now that the added cum provided some lubrication.
His spurts subsided to dribbles, welling up from his cock with each
of her downward strokes. Finally they ebbed to nothing. Quickly,
almost clinically, she cleaned him up with the panties still in her
hand, pulled up and buttoned his pajamas, kissed him once, firmly
but quickly on the lips, and left him to sleep.

The kiss startled him out of his stupor, but by the time Kevin
realized what was going on, his Mom had gone. He was dull with
sleepiness, and his young mind still had not registered the
bizarreness of what had occurred, and so he snorted satisfiedly and
slipped off to sleep.

Heather's mind, on the other hand, was awhirl. She couldn't believe
what had just happened. But the human mind is a mysterious object,
and when confronted with an unpleasant reality, often rationalizes
away the unpleasant parts. This process had already begun during
the hand-job, and Heather retreated gratefully toward that version
of events: it was a normal part of sex education.

To help things along, however, Heather headed toward the kitchen
cabinet where she kept her liquor. Usually, these bottles were
brought out only for guests and parties, but in an uncharacteristic
move, Heather poured herself two fingers of scotch on ice and
slurped it down.

Back upstairs, Heather noticed the twice-soiled pantied were still
in her hand. She was about to simply throw them out, but for some
reason, sniffed tentatively at them. Immediately, the familiar odor
if male sex filled her nostrils. It had been months since she'd
last smelled that, but the pheromones did their work. Her knees
weakened, her breasts ached to be touched, and her pussy turned
moist.

Her armchair was still in front of her mirror, but she ignored it.
Instead she flung off her clothes and bounced onto her bed. Laying
the cum-soaked panties near her head, she reached for the vibrator
and turned it on. Ignoring her regular routine, she buzzed it to
high and slid it into her moist pussy. Leaving it there, she
kneaded and sucked her own mammoth breasts, pulling and mauling at
them like a man would. She quickly built toward her climax, and as
she felt it becoming inevitable, she turned her head toward the
panties, almost sticking her nose in her son's cum, and inhaled
deeply. She came then, thrashing silently in ecstacy on the bed.
This intense orgasm lasted almost a minute before subsiding, and
even then several short pulses ripped through her pussy like
aftershocks of a climactic earthquake. She barely had enough energy
to flip off the switch, leaving the inert vibrator inserted in her
pussy, before falling into a deep dreamless sleep.

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Kevin's Story
Chapter 4


Kevin woke up the next morning inordinately happy, but as so often
happens to the waking mind, he didn't immediately remember why. He
felt the sheets rub against his morning hard-on, and then he
suddenly recalled the events of the previous night. His already
swollen member seemed to get even harder. He hopped out of bed and,
with his swaying boner leading him on like a divining rod, went off
in search of his mother.

Heather, for her part, woke with a feeling of guilt, albeit a small
one. But as she showered away the sweat of the previous night, her
rationalizations completed themselves, washing away the guilt as
well. By the time she had dried off and was getting dressed, she
had convinced herself that grabbing hold of her son's dick and
masturbating him to orgasm was an integral part of his sex
education. She ignored the fact that it had turned her on as well,
since it was not germane to the idea of teaching him.

In her confusion the previous night, Heather had not closed her
bedroom door all the way, and as Kevin approached her room, he could
see his mom framed in the crack between the door and the jamb. She
was just fastening her bra at that point, and the view was
breathtaking. Since he had no idea what he was going to say to her,
he decided not to enter, but simply to observe her getting dressed.

Already she was in her bra and panties, but, strangely, Kevin was
not disappointed not to see her naked. To a 14-year-old, underwear
was as good as naked, and when the underwear was as nice as
Heather's...

He stood transfixed, drinking in the view.
Inside her room, Heather bustled about putting on her garter belt
and slowly pulling up her white stockings so as not to run them.
Kevin stroked his rod as he watched her, and began to really
appreciate her taste in lingerie.

Finally, as she slipped into her uniform, she caught sight of his
shadow in the hall. At first she was irritated, then she simply
sighed to herself and let it pass. A little voyeurism never hurt
anyone, especially in view of what had already passed between them.
But she resolved to speak to him again that evening.

When Kevin saw that his Mom was done dressing, he decided not to
knock and enter, but rather to return to his own bathroom and jerk
off. After that, he went downstairs for breakfast to find that
Heather had already left.

That evening, Heather returned home to find that Kevin had once
again prepared dinner, although this time it was steak and baked
potatoes, with a tossed salad. "Kevin!" she squealed in surprise,
"how on earth did you manage all this?"

Kevin proudly related to her that he had called his aunt long
distance to get instructions on the preparation as a surprise for
her. "I just wanted to have a special Friday night supper," he
said.

Heather gratefully sat down to start on her salad, while Kevin
clumsily (but adorably, she thought) finished the meal and served
it. To her continued surprise, he went to the 'fridge and produced
a bottle of wine, which he served her with great ceremony, but
served himself only a Pepsi. He smiled engagingly when he sat down
opposite her, and they dug in to the meal.

When they were almost done, and Kevin was leaning over to refill her
glass, Heather realized that he was acting exactly as if they were
on a date. The shock of the realization almost made her choke on
a mouthful of steak. She saw the danger inherent in such a
viewpoint, but at the same time she was touched and flattered.
Kevin was acting very courtly, almost like a caricature of a suave
movie suitor. She resolved to talk to him after the meal about this
and other matters. But Heather had to admit that it was the nicest
"date" she'd had in quite awhile. No other man ever cooked for her,
or treated her with such respectful affection. It's too bad,
really, that Kevin wasn't older, and not her son....

Kevin insisted on doing dishes himself, so Heather carried her wine
into the den and sat down on the couch. A few minutes later he
appeared, but she noticed he had changed into his pajamas and robe.

"Kevin, I'd like to talk to you," she said.

"I'd like to talk to you, too," he said, sitting down next to her.

"It's about last night, and dinner, and this morning, too."

"This morning?" he asked.

"Yes, I saw you in the hall."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't want to bother you, but you looked so
nice I couldn't help but watch. I should have asked you, first."

"Yes, you should, but that's not the point..."

"Would you have let me?" he interrupted.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Watch you dress. I mean, you did say we could be honest with one
another."

"Uh, yes, I guess so..."

"Great, I really appreciate this Mom."

By now, Heather was thoroughly confused. Perhaps she shouldn't have
drunk so much wine. But she couldn't for the life of her figure out
what Kevin was driving at. Plus she'd lost the thread of what she
was going to say.

"Appreciate what?" she asked.

"This honesty stuff. I was really confused about sex and stuff, and
it really helps that I can talk to someone I trust. I love you,
Mom."

"Oh, Kevin, I love you, too. I'll always be here for you. You know
that."

"I know, and last night was really special to me. That's why I made
such a nice dinner, to kind of say thanks. It really helped me."

"Good."

"In fact, I'd like to show you what I've learned. I'm much better
at jack-uh, masturbating now. I practiced today. Can I show you,
please?"

Totally taken aback, extremely confused and feeling a little horny
from the wine, Heather barely nodded before Kevin stood in front of
her. He pulled his robe back behind his hips. She could already
see his hard rod tenting out the front of his pajamas.

Kevin unsnapped his pants and let them fall around his ankles. As
she did the previous night, Heather gasped slightly. She was amazed
that such a large organ could grow from the loins of such a slim
body. Kevin kept his left hand on his hip, holding the robe out of
the way. He dropped his right hand to his blood-engorged rod.
Heather shivered involuntarily as his first stroke brought forth a
clear drop of seminal fluid. Her wine-clouded mind retreated to the
now familiar rationalizations for her actions, but her body
responded honestly: her nipples hardened under her blouse; her
respiration increased; her tongue moistened her lips quickly,
nervously; she shifted forward in her seat, her knees parting
slightly; a slow warmth suffused through her body, accompanied by
a wetness in her pussy.

Kevin seemed not to notice these subtle changes; his eyes were half
closed as he smoothly stroked his rod. His lidded gaze looked half-
sleepy with lust, and seemed concentrated on his mother's heaving
bosom. Three buttons had come undone on her blouse, and he could
see the creamy tops of her breasts and the thinnest line of her bra
peaking out of the top. As she shifted forward in her seat, his
eyes were drawn to her stockinged legs. He remembered the erotic
vision of the morning: his mother slowly pulling up the white
stockings.

Heather lay back in the chair, her gaze totally focused on that hand
pistoning on that rod. u*********sly, the fingers of her own hand
curled as they had the night before to stroke that penis. The
tactile memories flooded through her, exciting her even more. She
wanted to drop her own hand between her legs, but seemed to lack the
will to do anything voluntarily.

Mother and Son faced each other, each experiencing physical
stimulation, but the mental stimulation far outpaced that. Both
were wrapped in memories, she of him the night before, he of her
this morning. In his mind's eye, Kevin followed the progress of the
stockings she pulled on this morning, over the ankle, up the smooth
calf, over the knee. Heather recalled each individual stroke she
had applied last night, the feel of the warm flesh beneath her, the
bump on her fingers of his glans.

Kevin became more excited as his eyes travelled up her leg, seeing
the stocking gliding over that creamy thigh. As the stockings in
his vision came to their end, his mental gaze travelled up his
mother's thigh to the white panties snugly nestling their prize.
He felt himself start to cum.

Heather recalled tightening her grip, stroking faster, and her own
orgasm approached.

With a strangled cry, Kevin pitched forward slightly, his left hand
supporting him on the back of Heather's chair. He angled his dick
down, not wanting to spray cum all over his Mom's face. A huge wad
fired down onto the white-stockinged thigh of his fantasy.

Kevin's cry almost broke Heather's concentration, but when she felt
that hot, gooey cum hit her leg, she arched her back up, threw her
head back, and gasped out her orgasm.

Spurt after spurt of cum landed on those thighs, each one searing
it's way into Heather's orgasm. No man's cum, in her pussy, down
her throat, between her breasts, had ever put her over the edge like
this before.

As Kevin finished coming, he opened his eyes and looked down into
his mother's face. Heather was still in the midst of her orgasm,
with her head back, her eyes closed and her lips parted. Without
thinking, her dropped his mouth to cover hers. His mother kissed
him back hungrily. Suddenly, her eyes flew open to stare into his.
Startled, Kevin pulled back, grabbed up his pants, and ran from the
room.

Heather still wasn't quite all the way back. Her surprised glance
had not been because her son was kissing her, but because a kiss had
in no way figured in that fantasy place where she was reliving last
night. With Kevin gone, she still was wrapped in lust. She ran her
hands over her thighs, revelling in the sensation of hot, sticky cum
giving way to the small rough mesh of fibers of her stockings. She
continued to massage the cum into her legs, then she picked up one
hand and examined the goo all over her fingers. Dreamily, she
examined the way it clung to her fingers. Then she seemed to come
to a bit. She got up, went to her room, stripped off her clothes
and hopped in the shower. Still partly dazed, she went to sleep.

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Kevin's Story
Chapter 5


The next day was Saturday. Kevin woke up not knowing what to
expect. He was certain his Mom was not happy about what had
transpired the night before. Whether or not she would mention
troubled him. But even if Heather let it go, Kevin was still
consumed with guilt.

He padded downstairs, still in the robe and pajamas from the
previous night. This time, however, his robe was belted tightly
shut. Heather was in the kitchen,also in her robe, humming to
herself while fixing breakfast.

For her part, Heather was not mad at her son at all. She felt that
what had transpired between them so far was simply furthering
Kevin's sex education. She was also feeling guilty, however, for
enjoying herself so much in the process.

She turned around from the stove and started slightly. Kevin had
come into the kitchen and sat down without even saying hello. Now
he was seated at the table with his head in his hands.

"Good morning, Tiger," she said cheerily.

"Mmmf, mornin'," he said without raising his head.

Heather immediately became concerned. "Are you okay, honey? Are
you sick?"
"No, I'm fine," he said, and left it at that.

Heather shrugged and turned back to the stove. A few minutes later,
she shoveled some eggs onto his plate. Without looking up, he took
his fork and began eating, still holding his head up with the other
hand. Heather was puzzled, but let it be for now. She tried to
make conversation a few times, but Kevin's monosyllabic answers
rebuffed her attempts.

After only a few mouthfuls, Kevin rose, sc****d his leftovers into
the trash, the dashed upstairs again. Perplexed, Heather finished
her own breakfast, and cleaned up. As she washed the few dishes,
she wondered if perhaps Kevin was mad at her for what had occurred.
Certainly, she hadn't encouraged him last night, but you never know
how k**s might interpret things. Finishing the countertop, she
dried her hands and went up to talk to him.

Kevin was in his bedroom, back in bed but still in his robe. The
shades were drawn and the room was in deep shadow. Heather came in,
pulled his desk chair over alongside the bed and sat on it. "Kevin,
honey, what's wrong?"

Kevin lay with his head muffled in his arms "Nothing," came the
barely audible reply.

"Are you worried about what's been happening between us?"

There was no answer from the teenager.

"Have I done anything wrong, anything to hurt or offend you?"

"Oh, God, no!" he groaned.

"Then what's wrong? Why won't you talk to me?"

"I shouldn't have done that last night. It was terrible of me."

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "It was not terrible of
you at all. Didn't anything I said to you before get through? It's
okay for you to ask me about these things and for me to teach you.
If I were upset, believe me you'd know."

Kevin lay silent for awhile, digesting this.

"Kevin?" she prompted.

With his face still in his arms, Kevin gulped, "But you don't do it.
Only me. I feel like it's not right if you don't do it."

"Do what, Kevin? Do you mean masturbate?"

"Yes."

Heather had to laugh at that, but was careful to make it a friendly
chuckle lest she hurt her son's feelings further.

"Oh Kevin, of course I do. Everyone does."

Kevin lifted his head, surprised. "You do?!"

"Of course, silly. Like I said, everyone does."

Kevin seemed to forget his problems with the fascination of this new
piece of information. He flipped over and sat up, crossing his legs
Indian style. "But, I don't understand. Women don't have, you
know, a thing."

Heather had trouble concentrating on an answer, because she could
see Kevin's prick pushing against his pajama bottoms. It never
ceased to amaze her how quickly and with what little stimulation
teenage boys got hard. Grown men for that matter. "Prick," she
said, half to herself.

"Huh?"

"Prick, cock, dick, these are all terms for penis, Kevin. You can
use them with me. I told you the other night, you can ask me
anything. You don't have to call a prick a 'thing'."

"Well, what are the terms for your 'thing'?"

"Well, vagina is the clinical term, but many people call it a pussy,
slit or cunt. But for some reason I don't like the term cunt."

"Then I won't use it. But still, how does a woman jack off?"

"Well, she can use several methods. She can simply stroke her pussy
lips, inserting her fingers or an object in her pussy. Or she can
concentrate on her clit and bring herself off with her finger. Some
women can cum merely by stimulating their breasts. Most women use
a combination of those methods. Do you follow me?"

Kevin had been nodding his head slightly at her explanation, as
though he understood. But when Heather asked him point blank, he
had to truthfully answer "Uh, no."

Heather frowned a bit in thought, then said "Are you familiar with
female anatomy?"

"No."

"Hmmm. Kevin, honey, would you like Mom to show you?"

"Yeah!" he grinned enthusiastically.

Heather frowned again, a bit concerned over his eagerness. But he
was young and inexperienced. His curiosity was understandable.
Besides, a young man could get himself in trouble trying to discover
the mysteries of a woman's body, either by exploring unsafely with
someone his own age or as the toy of an older woman. Or merely
through voyeurism as he displayed this morning. That could get him
in trouble with the law if he got caught. No, it seems that this
way was the only course.

So Heather stood up, untied the sash of her robe, and let it drop
to the floor. Kevin's eyes got wide as saucers as he beheld her
nearly naked body. As it happened, Heather was wearing a normal,
though lacy, bra and panty set. She reached behind her back, undid
the clasp, and let the bra drop to the floor. Kevin gasped as he
beheld those magnificent mammaries. Heather simply reached down and
peeled off her panties, stepping out of them. There was no coyness
in her style, since her aim was not to excite but to educate.
Nevertheless, the circumstances were such that both mother and son
were getting extremely excited. Somewhat wobbly, Heather sat down
on the chair again, facing her son on his bed.

"Okay," she said, soft and low, "these are my breasts, obviously."
She hefted her pendulous tits toward Kevin. "They are also called
tits, boobs and other things. This area is called the areola, and
these are the nipples. This area becomes engorged with blood and
the nipples become stiff when a woman is excited." Heather noticed
her nipples were in exactly that state so she hastily added "...or
cold."

Next she parted her knees and guided Kevin on a tour of her pussy.
"This is the pubic hair, this area is the mons, these lips are
called the labia majoris. If I pull them back...like so...you can
see the labia minoris and the clitoris, or clit. It is analogous
in structure to your penis, although it does not excrete urine or
cum. It does become stiff with blood, as does the whole area."

Heather had been looking down at herself as she spoke, and now when
she raised her head she saw to her consternation that Kevin had
pulled out his cock and was softly stroking it. With a bit of
prideful detachment she noted that his technique had improved, but
most of her mind was beginning to glaze over again with that
familiar lust. "Kevin, you're doing that much better, now."

"Thanks, Mom. But could you show me, please, how you do it."

Although reluctant, Heather could hardly say no, since she had
encouraged this learning experience. Besides, it would feel good.

So she leaned her head back in her chair, placed her feet well apart
on the edge of Kevin's bed, closed her eyes, and dropped one hand
to her crotch, one to her breasts.

Kevin gasped, and almost came at the erotic sight before him. His
mom's long black hair hung mostly off the back of the chair, but a
few locks were laying over her shoulders and curling around those
huge breasts. Like most boys his age, he was extremely fascinated
with those tits. And to see his mom's hand kneading her own
titflesh, that same hand that had rubbed his cock, was nearly mind-
and cock-blowing. So he gripped his penis hard, almost painfully,
and stopped stroking. He directed his attention now tho the
fascinating apparatus between his mom's legs. That clit was
extremely interesting. As Heather stroked her fingers between her
lips, that little nub of flesh had already poked further out. He
noticed how every time she touched it, she quivered involuntarily.
Still holding onto his cock, he leaned closer for a better look.

It took very little for Heather to leave everything behind and start
up that hill to the heights of orgasm. Already, during the course
of her conversation with Kevin, she had started to drip her love
juices into her panties, a highlight she had omitted from her tour.
But those slick juices let her fingers fly around the whole area,
and pretty soon she felt her first orgasm coming on. She had
deliberately not concentrated on her clit, because she didn't want
to lose it totally in front of her son. But she desperately wanted
to.

Fascinated, Kevin leaned closed, scootching his butt between his
mother's outstretched legs. Soon he was sitting on the edge of his
bed, his legs hanging down and his nose nearly in his mom's pussy
The sharp tangy smell of a woman's arousal assailed his nostrils,
which flared trying to catch every whiff. Her head still back, her
eyes till closed, his mom was beginning to squirm her butt across
the chair seat. u*********sly, Kevin reached one hand forward...

Heather began reaching for that orgasm, wanting it to be done
quickly so she could return this day to its normal channels. It was
going to be perfect, a quick little cum to take the edge off. Later
in her own bedroom she could cut loose. But now she was straining,
nearly there... just about to... "Yes, I cumming!" she thought,
then........

POW!!!!!!! her orgasm jumped up to incredible levels as her son's
slender fingers locked onto her clit. Heather's head shot forward,
her eyes wide open, to see Kevin between her legs, two fingers
pressing against her clit, his pajama pants around his ankles, his
huge boy-cock in his hands. The orgasm kept growing in intensity,
pant after pant of air coming from her mouth, wide open in a silent
scream. Then she caught her breath and moaned "OH, OH, YES! KEVIN
DON'T STOP... YOU'RE MAKING MOMMY CUMMMMMM!"

Kevin's fingers danced among hers, bringing his mom to the heights
she'd taken him to two nights before. His fingers were becoming
slick with her juices. He kept jiggling that clit, his boner
throbbing in his hand, but not ready to cum yet as he held it tight.

Finally, Heather gaspingly was able to beg him to quit. He
immediately stopped and sat back. Afraid that he had hurt or
offended her, he backed off uncertainly. Heather lay her head back
again and caught her breath. Then she opened her eyes and sat up.
She could feel her juices on her thighs as they rubbed together.
Aware that Kevin's manner showed uncertainty, she leaned forward,
put her hand on his, and whispered "Thank you, that was wonderful."

"Was it?" he gulped, "you liked that?"

"Oh yes," she said, her voice soft, sexy, husky. "It was very nice.
Do you see now how women 'do it'?"

Kevin simply nodded.

"Okay, since you were so helpful to Mommy, she'd like to pay her
baby back. Would you like me to make you cum?"

Wordlessly, he nodded again.

Heather slipped onto the bed beside her son. "First, take off this
top," she said, helping him to unbutton the pajamas. The pants
already lay in a heap on the floor. He shrugged the thin cotton
material over his shoulders, and was as naked as his mother.

"Lie back," she gently instructed him. Kevin obeyed. Heather then
leaned up on one elbow, and grasped his velvety hard rod with her
right hand.

Slowly, softly, she began to stroke her son's penis. As she did,
she spoke softly to him. "It was very nice what you did for Mommy,
Kevin. You made her feel so good. That's the most important part
of sex between two people. Each should be interested in the
pleasure of the other. I'm so proud of you for having such a mature
view."

Kevin heard these words only distantly. So did Heather for that
matter, as if someone else were speaking. Both their attentions
were focused on that jutting, shuddering cock: he from within, she
from above.

But she kept up the litany, all the while increasing her pace.
"Kevvy, you've been so good to Mommy, taking care of things while
she works. I love you without it, but I love you even more for it.
I want to teach you so much. I want to make you so happy."

Kevin's eyes were slitted nearly shut, unfocused, wandering.
Suddenly they locked onto one of Heather's tits dangling close to
his face as she leaned over him. It jiggled and swayed in time to
the movements of her delicate hand. He leaned over and sucked the
nipple into his mouth.

Still speaking softly to him, Heather was startled by the sudden
extra contact: "Yes, honey, Mommy wants you to feel good. She
really -OH- yes, Kevvy! That's so nice. Suck Mommy's titty while
she makes you feel good. Mmmm, you're such a good boy. I can tell
you're going to cum soon. Go ahead honey. Come on, let it loose.
Oh, yes, suck Mommy's tit. Cum, baby. Cum for mommy. Come on,
do it. Oh, yes, come on. Oh, Yes! That's it, you're cumming! Oh
good boy! My good, big boy is cumming for Mommy! Oh sweetie,
that's so beautiful!"

Kevin's first spurt of cum shot up in the air and landed on
Heather's cheek. The rest seemed to simply flow out, running all
over her fist and his cock. She continued to rub him, massaging his
cum all through the light fluffy pubic hair. Leaning forward to
kiss him, her tit popped from his lips. She covered that still open
mouth with hers and kissed him deeply, longingly. She could feel
that first squirt of cum running down her cheek toward their lips,
so she broke the kiss so as not to let it interfere. Kevin fell
back exhausted, and began to drift into sleep. His last image of
wakefulness was of his gorgeous mother, her bountiful breasts
swinging free, as she stuck her tongue out to lick his cum off her cheek.


Kevin's Story Chapter 6

Naked as the day she was born, Heather padded back to her bedroom, her
robe over one arm, soaking up the cum drenching her hand. As on her
previous sexual encounters with Kevin, her mind was rationalizing away
her guilt at what had just occurred, to wit: she had stripped and
masturbated for her son; he had touched her clit and made her cum; she
had gotten into bed with him naked and masturbated him to orgasm while
he nursed on her breast. The right synapses were firing to write the
whole episode off to education again, except for the fact that when some
of her son's cum spurted on her cheek, she had caught it with her tongue
as it dripped down her face. But she was conveniently forgetting that
last fact, acting as if it had been done u*********sly.

However, as she stepped into her shower and began rinsing away the sweat
and spunk of their encounter, Heather finally admitted to herself that
these "lessons" were not selfless acts of altruism: she really enjoyed
the sex acts she had performed with her son. On the other hand, they
were not selfishly motivated, either. She truly loved Kevin more than
any other man she'd ever met. He was a gentleman, a good friend and a
considerate lover, so far. Plus it was clear he adored and desired her.
As the tepid spray began to turn cold, Heather finally thrust the
rationalizations away from her mind and admitted to herself that she
loved Kevin and wanted to have sex with him.... in ALL ways.

"But that's i****t!" her conscience screamed, and once again, her mind
went to work smoothing its own ruffled feathers. What's so wrong with
i****t, she thought. It's not as if I'm forcing myself on him, nor is he
averse to these encounters. In fact, he has initiated one of them, on
their "date" last night. In fact, he loves me and I love him, not just
as mother and son but *that* way as well. To withdraw from this if he
wants to continue would irreparably damage our relationship, especially
if he wants it to continue. By that same token, to force myself on him
if he wants to stop WOULD be wrong, and that WOULD be i****t. I must
make it clear to him that any time he says "Stop," I will. Any time he
wants to end this aspect of our relationship, it will end. But until
that day.....

Smiling to herself in an u*********s exact imitation of the Mona Lisa,
Heather shut off the shower, toweled herself dry, and headed into her
bedroom. There she donned her best white stockings. Her white garter
belt, half-cup bra and panties were trimmed in red satin, with little
bows holding the panties together at her full hips. She pulled on
another robe over this outfit, then got a bowl of warm water and two
washcloths.

She retuned to Kevin's room to find him sleeping lightly, just as she
had left him. The early afternoon sun filtered through his thick
curtains, casting spotlights on the floor where dust motes awoke and
danced up into these beams. Other than that, the room was cooly shaded.

She sat in the same chair next to his bed where only an hour before she
had taken her son on a guided tour of her errogenous zones. The sticky
cum of their last encounter was congealing over his groin, stomach and
thighs. Heather took the washcloth and dipped it into the bowl of water.
She wrung it out and began gently scrubbing up the mess on her son's
body.

Kevin immediately woke up, as she knew he would. "Mom?" he said, softly.

"Yes, honey," she replied quietly, "I'm just cleaning you up a little."
But Kevin's cock stirred underneath her persistent ministrations, which
she continued long after he was clean. Soon he was fully hard again.
"Ahh, youth," Heather thought, and then again, "Ah, YOUTH" with a
hungrier cast to her eye.

Kevin lay there quietly with his hands behind his head, gazing at his
beautiful mother. He noticed she was back into a robe, different from
the last one: more lacy, less utilitarian. But he did not comment.
Rather, he just watched and waited, a little expectantly.

"Are you convinced now that I'm not mad at you?" she asked him quietly,
not looking away from her task.

"Yes," he said, in the same gentle tone.

"Are you happy about the things that we've done together?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Are you comfortable with what we've done?"

"Ye-es," he said, but with a touch of hesitation.

"Well, you should be, there's nothing wrong with it. When two people
love each other, they should enjoy making each other feel good. Do you
want to stop?"

"No!" he said quickly.

"So you want to continue? Because if you don't we can stop. Any time you
say, honey, we can stop."

"Oh, no, Mom," Kevin insisted, "I don't want to stop. I love you."

"I love you, too," she said. All this time, Heather had co