Mother masturbates exhibitionist son

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After Brett Burgess’ mother had watched him orgasm in front of her, he hoped the next step in their relationship journey would involve her intimately touching him. But the unexpected and unwanted presence of his father had put those fantasies on hold. His father had returned from a prolonged business trip. He was about the house constantly and as much as he had interrupted the emotional sharing Brett had with his mum, his father also had disturbed the delicate balancing act that had led to Brett sharing his naked body.

To make matters worse the early heat wave of June had given way to incessant rains. The downpour had left little opportunity for his mother to watch him from the garden even if his father hadn’t been there. Brett had started to wonder if that was for the best. Their relationship had become stronger after he ejaculated in front of her. She had watched through his bedroom window and coyly clapped for his climaxing. He felt satisfaction in the thought that she had seen him exposed. It felt right and complete, like a missing piece of the jigsaw of their mother and son relationship had fallen into place. They both had the memory of that sunny day. He knew that they would both replay it over and over again in their heads. But maybe that was enough. They didn’t need to take it any further.

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He fantasized about her taking his penis in her small manicured hands with the sharp nails. He imagined what it would be like if he was to ejaculate on her face. He thought that would be an amazing sharing experience with her. Perhaps these thoughts were better left as fantasies though. There was his father to think about now and he wasn’t even sure if his mum would want to take it further. Whenever conversations with her had turned in that direction Brett would feel his mouth dry out and his tongue feel heavy and thick so that he would wonder if his mother noticed the change in his tone or sense the quickening of his pulse. He never quite knew how much to acknowledge or recognise. They had never properly discussed what had happened. It seemed as though there was another boundary there, one which both of them dare not cross.

All these factors played into Brett’s surprise when he climbed into the shower that morning in late July and he was confronted with his mum’s undergarments. He realised that until that moment in all his twenty years he had never actually seen her underwear before. His mother was prim and proper. She didn’t wear revealing clothes and never left her undergarments so that they were visible in the laundry. He had never actually seen her in just her underwear before, but he had also not seen her underwear by itself either. She had been discreet and modestly kept it from view. Brett had considered her underwear off limits and in general any talk of underwear was done with some embarrassment and awkwardness. He had once or twice wondered what type of underwear she might wear and the sensible silk skin coloured briefs and brassier were exactly what he had expected. He looked at them for a few seconds before reaching over to take them out.

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