The fat knob of her son's cock was engorged to satiny smoothness, the purplish swollen skin shiny under its slippery coating of pre-cum. He was breathing heavily now, and Ingrid stared, entranced in spite of herself, and suddenly realized that her panties were soaked!
Staring in horror at the horse-sized pecker, she realized that Billy's cock was already longer and fatter than his father's.
And her heart leaped. Billy was cumming! He grabbed his straining prick with both hands, pulling the skin down tight toward his balls. His piss slit gaped widely in the purplish head, and then he was blowing out huge wads of creamy cum. The hot jism arced high above him and splattered on his belly, gathering into thick, white puddles. Ingrid licked her lips as, moaning, he pumped his hands feebly a few times, and then let his dribbling prick sag heavily over his upper thigh. "Mom…" he sighed, and closed his eyes.
Ingrid's face was burning. Her cunt was on fire. Her brain reeled with the memory of how she had jumped on her bedpost, fucking herself with the cold wood while dreaming of Billy's cock. But such thoughts weren't normal, she was sure. Even if there was no physical contact, the thoughts themselves were incestuously tinged.
She recognized her body's needs as healthy, but being celibate all these years wasn't. She'd have to find a man, and soon. Perhaps one of the Society's male members. But it had been so many years since she had dated, that she didn't really know how to approach a man.
But she had to try. For her own peace of mind, she had to try.
What Ingrid couldn't know, let alone suspect, was that Billy had deliberately left his door open and fondled his prick just when he knew his mother would see him. Just as he had deliberately placed her pictures where she could see them. And his mumbled endearments to them had also been well planned.
Watching her from under his lashes, he saw the glow in her cheeks, and the roundness of her eyes, and knew that she had become excited watching him. His campaign was beginning to work!
Billy's big break came when he least expected it, the next day. He was peeking, or trying to, anyway, while his mother prepared for her shower. Because Ingrid had thoughtlessly hung something from the doorknob, he was foiled in his attempt to view her through the keyhole. He heard water striking the shower curtain, and his teenage mind filled with lewd visions of wet tits and ass.
"Double-damn!" he muttered. Then he thought that maybe a broken clothes hanger could be used to push aside whatever it was that blocked his view.
Ingrid had just stepped from the stall when a scraping noise caught her attention. She removed her shower cap and saw a thin wire poke through the keyhole, knocking her blouse from the knob.
She forgot all about her towel. Oh, no, she thought, almost with resignation, not again! Billy must really be desperate to spend half his waking hours thinking up new ways to peek at her. She could almost pity him, imagining his furtive slinking and eager anticipation which usually resulted in disappointment for him, since she was trying to be careful around him.
Poor boy. Something had to be done to end this increasingly awkward and exasperating situation. Impulsively, she caught the wire and yanked it through the keyhole. She heard a surprised gasp and a shuffle.
"Billy!" There was no answer.
Still under the influence of the same impulse that had made her grab the wire, she tried again.
"Billy! Listen! If I let you look at me once and for all, will you stop this damn sneaking around? Will that satisfy your curiosity?"
Ingrid didn't realize that, as she stood before the door, her son was now looking straight through the keyhole at her huge tits.
"Well, Billy? Are you going to answer me?" She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and the boy drooled as her fat jugs swayed with her movements, rolling back and forth. He licked his lips. This was what he had been waiting for, but he couldn't believe his luck. Tommy'd shit when he heard about this! Then his eye watered and he tried to refocus as his mother walked right up to the door. Shit, he was looking right at the pink bareness between her thighs! His eye strained to see more than the hint of Ingrid's rather low-slung, plump slit.
Then she culled his name and asked her question and his heart began to pound. "Do you mean it, Mom?"
"Yes!" she said, and he heard her unlock the door. He watched it swing slowly open.
Ingrid could hardly believe that she was standing naked in front of her teenaged son. She shivered suddenly as cool air blew across her wet body.
"Wow!" Billy exclaimed, his eyes devouring her shiny, creamy curves. Her enormous tits jiggled, their huge dark tips puckering from a combination of the cold and her nervousness. His eyes dropped to where her cunt lay hidden.
Ingrid was uncomfortably aware of the growing lump in her boy's pants, but told herself that it was a natural response. But why did her eyes keep returning to it? Was it because she now knew what it looked like, what it was capable of?
"Well," she tried to joke, "was it worth all this trouble?"
Billy nodded mutely, inching nearer, studying the goosepimples on her puffy areolas. Then he slowly walked around her, admiring her creamy asscheeks. Ingrid fidgeted under his examination, and felt herself blushing hotly. Time seemed to drag on and on. What probably were only seconds seemed to her like hours.
Finally, he was standing in front of her again. There was a growing wet spot on the front of his pants which she tried to ignore. He bent his head and peered between her thighs, and Ingrid thought she would die of shame.
"Uh, Mom? I can't see anything there." And he touched the top of her crotch to show her where he meant.
His mother squealed and jumped, and her huge tits swayed heavily. "That… that's all, Billy," she stammered with sudden fear. "You'd better leave."
"But Mom," he cried, "you promised you'd let me look at you!"
Ingrid's heart softened at his anguished tone, but her fear increased. To her shame, she was experiencing a depraved sense of power. In the past six years she'd all but forgotten that her lush body possessed a tremendous capacity for either giving or withholding pleasure. Her heart went out to her young son. Sexual curiosity can be a painful thing to a boy his age, she told herself, and now that she'd led him to believe that his curiosity would be satisfied, what right had she to disappoint him?
"You want to see my pussy, don't you, Billy?" she asked him quietly. Speechless, he could only nod emphatically.
Nervously, Ingrid searched for the right words. "People… people think it's sinful for a mother to show her private parts to her son. But, if it's done for a good cause, and with love, it doesn't hurt anyone." It was as if she herself needed convincing, Ingrid realized.
And then Billy saw his pretty mother spread her legs apart and lean backward a bit, exposing her swollen, hairless outer lips.
Billy hastily fell to his knees as Ingrid shakily reached between her plump thighs and pulled her cunt lips apart. Billy stared, wide-eyed with lust.
The demoralized mother felt incredibly hot and lewd as her teenage son closely examined her flushed sex-flesh. Her clit was inflamed, throbbing at the top of her open cunt.
Billy forced himself away from the spectacular sight and walked around her again. "Now your ass, Mom?" he asked.
Ingrid hadn't expected a further examination, but supposed that he wanted to be sure that women weren't different there, too. Shamefully thrusting out her fleshy ass, she pulled the round cheeks away from each other.
"Can-can I touch it, Mom?" Billy whispered and, without waiting for her to reply, stroked her damp bung with the ball of his finger. It was hot and slick, and he saw it visibly clench as his mother moaned and pulled away.
"You-you mustn't ever do that again," Ingrid stuttered, her asshole still tingling. She turned to face him, her enormous tits swinging heavily from side to side.