Sex stories, Mom and son, Mom struggles with her desire to sexually exploit her son… I sat on the edge of the tub with the bottom part of my robe open. I carefully shaved around the edges of my thick bush trying to get a nice, neat triangle. It had been more than a week since the first time my eighteen-year-old son Jesse joined me during one of my X-rated cam shows. I kept insisting to myself that I was only performing with him because we were flat broke, and we needed the money to avoid foreclosure, yet there was more to it than that. I wanted to chalk it up to me being a horny old broad who wasn’t getting any lately, but I was only fooling myself. Jesse being my son, and doing the filthy things we were doing with each other, was getting me way more turned on than it should. I knew I would have to put a stop to what we were doing at some point, but I was almost glad that we were in as deep a financial hole as we were.
I ran the razor carefully along the inside crease of my thigh, cleaning away the shadow of stubble that was there. Jesse had refused to do another show until he got his first pay off. It took him less than twenty-four hours to spend it all. We’d done a couple more performances over the past few days. We’d just about made enough money for the mortgage payment that was three months overdue. I opened my legs a little wider to reach the sensitive area down low.
Jesse walked in without bothering to knock. He didn’t seem overly surprised to see his mother sitting there with her legs spread and her pussy hanging out. My first instinct was to close my legs and cover up with my robe, but when he stepped to the toilet and pulled his cock out of his boxers I realized there was no point in bothering. It was strange to think that my son had seen my pussy enough by this point that it was becoming almost normal for us. It gave me a shamefully good feeling inside.
“Want me to go get the weed whacker out of the garage for that?” he asked mockingly as he began to pee right in front of me. This was a new stage of comfortable for him.
“Real men prefer the look of a mature woman,” I argued while trying to keep my attention on my grooming and not on my son’s pissing cock. “Ever think that maybe there’s something wrong with you wanting your women to look like little girls down there?”
“Yeah, well, maybe there’s something wrong with both of us.” He shook the last drops of pee from his dick and flushed. “At least I have the excuse that I was raised by a perverted whore of a mother.”
I looked up with a flash of anger only to see that he hadn’t put his cock away yet. His eyes were on my pussy. I knew he was just trying to get a rise out of me, but there was that old thing about truth in jest that nagged at my conscience.
“Fuck you, too, ya sick little bastard.”
He only chuckled at that, still staring openly at my exposed twat. I pretended like I didn’t notice; acting like I didn’t have the urge to spread my lips open for my son and watch him get hard over me.
“My mom…the perfect role-model.” He shook his head and walked out.