How can one define innocence? Leaving your back-pack in the bathroom; is that an innocent act? Without a doubt. Leaving it just before your mom goes in there to take her shower? Well, it can certainly be seen as a coincidence. Innocent, surely. Letting your phone in it? Nothing more than a fluke. All innocent. Then again, turning the camera on and positioning the phone so that the top corner peaks from the inadequately closed zipper… That’s something else.
I was sitting in my room, at my desk. Behind the wall just in front of me was the bathroom from where I could hear the shower running. Then stopping. Then the sound of the curtains being pulled opened. My heart was racing. Anyone looking at me would only see a twenty year old guy looking at his monitor. But in my mind’s eye, I was picturing my mom coming out of the shower, fully naked, drying her large breasts, nice hips and smooth thighs, rubbing at her pussy and bush before wrapping the towel on her head. She was all alone in there, had no reason to be prude or shy…
I don’t even know why I hadn’t thought of doing that sooner. Sure it was immoral, but immoral was the default mode of most teenagers. Maybe I wasn’t a teenager anymore, but when it came to my mom, I still felt like one. Oedipus complex, they would say. I knew it wasn’t the case. I wasn’t in love with my mom, nor did I mind when I heard my parents having sex together. In fact, I was really happy that they were still together and in love. It wasn’t oedipus at all.
My mother just happened to have an absolutely stunning body. Objectively. Even at 39. Even after 2 kids. My brother Felix, 2 years younger than me, seemed to be immuned to her charms. I still couldn’t understand how he could simply not look at her cleavage when she bends over. I guessed he had the normal child-parent blindness when it came to mom. That or a normal moral compass.
As mom got out of the bathroom, crossing my door with a towel on her head and one wrapped around her body, I grinned. My moral compass wasn’t normal. At least when it came to her, as otherwise I was a pretty ordinary guy. But no amount of instinctual disgust would turn me away from my mom’s body. She was just insanely hot. Ironically, I thought as I was walking to the bathroom, I couldn’t say if she was pretty or not. Maybe some part of that compass was working after all. But hot? That was as plain as the sun.
I was feigning nonchalance, but my heart was still racing and I discovered that my palms were sweaty when I picked my pack-sack up. Seconds later I was in my room, the door locked. Mom and I were alone in the house (it was the reason I tried that stunt today), so I wasn’t afraid that anyone would disturb me for a few minutes. I grabbed the phone, hurriedly started the video… and immediately felt my heart sink.
I’d been afraid that she would knock the pack-sack off-kilter by pushing the door all the way open. And she had. I quickly scanned the video and got a fully nude shot of her feet. Shit! I had waited for weeks for the perfect opportunity to do this and got nothing. Damn it! My cock was still rock hard in my pants and I was ready to masturbate! My vivid imagination would have been more than enough, but I was too angry to jerk off and knew I would spend the rest of the day pissed, disappointed and sexually frustrated. Sure I could masturbate later, and I often did with my mother in the house. In fact, I often tried to do it while she was in the shower, naked and so close… But today that would only add to the frustration. Fuck!