Will Wanton’s

Porn-writing Mother

Chapter 1

This story contains:

Gender Combo’s: Fm (15).

Sex Acts: none

Fetishes / Other: incest (mother / son) ; dirty talk.

Chapter 1

His English teacher being sick, 15-year-old Martin Betts as well as his class mates were told they were done for the day, and were allowed to go home. It was only 14:15 pm so that gave Martin a lot of extra time to play his new XBOX-360 game, to see if it was as good as his buddies claimed it was.

Walking into the door, the house seemed empty; perhaps his mom was buying groceries.

Kicking off his shoes in the hall, the soft carpeting made Marty virtually silent as he walked up the stairs. But once the second floor was reached, Marty found that something else was not as quiet. He noticed some sound coming from his mother's bedroom and realized his mother was probably home after all. So just to let her know he was home, he opened the door and indeed noticed his mom sitting in the chair behind the computer-desk, with her back to him.

It was only when he was standing beside the chair that he noticed that his mother was almost naked, wearing nothing but her white bra and panties.
What's more, in a split second before his mother finally discovered someone standing next to her, Marty also noticed that she had one hand squeezing her left tit, and her other hand inside her panties rummaging around. The 34-year-old brunette woman had her legs spread, and was looking at something; or more specifically: reading something on her PC monitor.
Marty didn't have the time to see what it was that his mother was reading, but it sure seemed to turn her on.

It was only a fraction of a second later that Stephanie, Marty's mom, noticed that her very own son was standing next to her, watching her masturbate as if hypnotized and unable to move.

"Oh Marty. Dear God..." Stephanie uttered, quickly pulling a moist hand from her panties, the elastic waistband snapping loudly against the flesh above her mound. "You're home? I didn't realize you were home."

"Mom, I ehh... Mr. Jenkins got sick and we were told we could go home. What are you doing, mom?"

Marty knew what she was doing, but his mind was blank for something smart or meaningful to say. It is, after all, not often that a 15-year-old boy finds his mother half-naked and masturbating. He kept standing in his position, almost afraid walking away was the wrong thing to do under the circumstances.

"Oh Marty, baby..." Stephanie uttered, slowly regaining her composure. "Mommy thought she was alone, and, well... Your mother has urges, you know? Ever since your father left, I’ve been alone, and I have urges that I need to take care of. So that's what I do when I’m alone, and I thought I was, so..."

Torn between her still rampant horniness and the need to make the feeling of awkwardness go away, she was thinking of something to make out of the situation, and it was remembering finding one of her dirty panties under his mattress that made her realize she could actually turn this whole situation into something to both their benefits. The boy had been secretly jerking off with her underwear, and was probably having all sorts of sordid thoughts about her, so why not give both the boy and herself something they needed?

"Mommy likes to read and also write dirty stories on the internet, honey," the mother told her son to explain what was on the monitor. "I take care of my needs my turning all of my horny fantasies into words and putting them on the internet so others can enjoy them as well. I've had lots of e-mail from lots of unknown people telling me they like it and use them to masturbate."

Marty heard his mother say the words "horny" and "masturbate" and felt his dick stir. He never heard her say those kinds of words. Sexual words. Hearing those words come out of his beloved mother's mouth did something to the boy.

"I know you've got needs too," Stephanie told her son, alluding to his jerk-off sessions. "So you'll understand if your poor old mom makes herself feel good, don't you?"

"Uhh, yeah, I guess," the stunned 15-year-old told his mother, afraid to say something that might disappoint her. Besides, there was something about the way she was talking now that he liked. He felt some sort of connection now that his mother had taken some of the awkwardness away by almost pretending that what she was doing was not such a big deal. Almost as if she trusted the boy with it; almost treating him as a mature young man.

"Would you like to watch me a bit, honey?" Stephanie told her boy, hoping he would answer in the affirmative. "Would you like to watch your mother as she makes herself feel good? I would really like it if you would. It makes me feel even better if you would stay here and watch me masturbate."

The boy didn't say anything, but didn't make any impression of wanting to leave either, and it made Stephanie's clit tingle.
She was going to make something great out of, what was only minutes ago, an embarrassing situation. With some very quick thinking and some risk-taking, she could make one of her nastiest fantasies come true.

She had written stories about it; hot, nasty stories with characters she had loosely based on herself and her son, so she could place herself and Marty into a fictional storyline, and make anything happen between them that would make her reach earth-shattering orgasms. Steph had posted the stories on various erotic-stories-websites, and on a few sex-fora as well, and loved how much complete strangers had enjoyed them. She could make complete strangers masturbate and cum, by putting her own fantasies into text and showing it to them. It made her feel deliciously wanton, and powerful as well.

"I'm gonna please myself, Marty. And I hope you'll stay here to watch," the 34-year-old mother said as she turned her rotating leather chair toward her teenage son. She felt his gaze on her body and it made her feel hot and horny. She was sitting in front of her own son in nothing but her bra and panties and she felt so perverse doing that. Her stiff nipples were protruding through the material of her bra, and a somewhat dark stain could be seen in the crotch of her white panties, and Steph loved the idea that her son could see these things and enjoy them.

Stephanie spread her legs as far as they could between the chair's arm rests, and lifted her ass off of the leather cushion for a bit to move it slightly forward, so the woman was sitting back more than she did before.

Marty watched his mother, not saying a word and leaning against the edge of the desk. He looked at the stiff nubbins of his mother's tits sticking through the white material, and between her thighs he could see the bulge of his mother's cunt against the crotch of her panties.

"That's it, baby," Stephanie cooed at her speechless son.

"Look at your mother's body. It makes me feel good to feel your eyes glide over it. Look at it," she said, her passion taking hold of her vocal cords and making her voice quake with perverse, incestuous passion, "look at my tits; how my fat nipples are poking through."

The horny mother moved one hand up to cup her breast, and rubbing the tip of her index finger over the stiff bud, while her other hand was moving over her taut belly, into the waistband of her panties.
Her hand started moving up and down inside the material and Marty could see the fingers fooling around behind the crotch of the material.

Stephanie pulled one knee up, to put her bare foot onto the edge of the chair, and it exposed her crotch area even more completely to her son's stare. He could smell it too, now. Marty could smell the intoxicating odor of his mother's cunt; it invaded his nostrils and made his pants tent out.

"I can see how much you like seeing me," Stephanie said. "Maybe, if you end up doing a good job making me feel good, I may make you feel good too."

The woman licked her lips and was squinting her eyes; her breath became quicker and louder. She was losing herself in lust now, behaving like a common, exhibitionist whore in front of her teenage son.

"Would you like to see your mother's tits, honey?" Stephanie said excitedly, already knowing the answer. "Would you like to see my fucking tits? If you do, tell me, honey. Tell me you would like to see my tits. Use the words; make me hear them." Stephanie desperately wanted to hear her son use filthy words; to hear the boy say them to her in a sexual manner.

"God, mom. I would. I would like to see them a lot," the flushed teenage said.

"No, baby," his mother responded. "I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say the words, honey. Hearing the words makes your mother feel good, so say them."

"Y...Your t...tits, mom. I'd really like to see your tits," Marty said, feeling a bit odd saying those words against his mother. Only minutes ago she was just his mother and he thought saying those words would get him yelled at and grounded. Now she was playing with herself in front of him and asking him to say them; wanting him to say them.

Hearing her son say the word "tits" and meaning her very own tits, asking her to show them to him, sent a nerve wracking shiver up Stephanie's spine.
She felt deliciously lewd corrupting the boy; teaching him to say dirty words to her in a sexual way.

"So you really do want to see your mother's tits, baby? You really do want me to take this bra off and show you my fucking tits and my fat, stiff nipples?
Okay, baby. Mommy is gonna show you her tits."

And with that said, Stephanie opened her bra on the front, and her soft orbs fell free, quivering up and down and from left to right, her areolas big and brownish red, and her nipples the size of thimbles.
 

Read further in Chapter 2...

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