over him.
She swallowed thickly as she saw the sheet raised slightly below the boy's waist. She looked apprehensively at his face and knew that he was a deep sleeper — just like his father had been — and she recalled the many times through the years she had rolled over to take hold of her husband's cock as he slept. It had always seemed in a state of semi-erection.
Carefully, Lisa lifted the edge of the sheet and a small gasp escaped her lips as she realized her son was sleeping in the nude. Then she lifted the sheet farther and a light thrill went through her as she viewed his strong young prick lying against his thigh, the thatch of blond pubic hair so like his father's it made her shudder.
Dropping the sheet, Lisa switched off the light and walked quickly to the bathroom that separated the boy's room from the guestroom beyond. She closed the door quietly, then switched on the light and gazed longingly at the deep tub. She needed to relax and the thought of a shower in her own half-bath was not the least appealing. But she could bathe here, she told herself, so long as she did it quietly so not to awaken her sleeping son in the next room. Bending over the tub, she adjusted the water to a low flow, tasted its warmth, then went through the guestroom and across the hall to her own. As she removed her clothing, she found the crotch of her panties was soaking wet and she cursed herself silently as she dropped them in the hamper. Taking a light gown from the hook on the door, she padded barefoot and naked into the dimly lit hallway, paused and went quickly downstairs. In the kitchen she splashed a heavy measure of bourbon into a glass, dropped in a pair of ice cubes and returned to the large bathroom upstairs.
The tub was steaming as she closed the door quietly, dropped her gown on the counter and twisted the handles off. Easily, she let her aching body slide down into the tub, and the immediate warmth of the water soothed her ragged nerves.
She lay back, luxuriating in the warmth, the glass of whiskey held loosely in her right hand.
Again, the picture of her young — just thirty-four. She was healthy, had a good figure and she was attractive. She looked at the flesh of her thighs and realized she had put on a pound or two there, but nothing to get worried about.
Then her gaze went to the thick bush of pussy hair above her cunt and she realized that that was where her worries originated!
Lisa finished her drink, then set the glass on the floor as she felt the liquor course through her veins. She found the light uncomfortable then and, knowing what she was going to do, she stood up, reached for the switch beside the door and turned off the light. Only the dim glow of the small night-light illuminated the bathroom, and it cast deep shadows around the tub as Lisa lowered her aching body again into the hot water. She sighed deeply and let her thoughts roam for a moment as she picked the soap from its dish and lathered her hands… but she kept going back to the sight of her son lying naked in his bed, and the thought of his virile young prick assailed her as she ran her hands over her tits, then down to soap her crotch.
Her fingers felt good and she spread her legs slightly as her soapy fingers found their way almost of their own accord to the soft folds of flesh between her thighs. She slid down in the tub and let her head rest against the edge as her fingers began a slow, circular motion around her petal like cunt-lips. As she spread them gently with the tips of her fingers, she drew up her knees and let one finger part the slippery flesh and enter her cunt. Her clit was erect as it had been ever since Bob had pressed his throbbing prick against her thighs earlier and now she had that stiff prick shoved deep inside her horny snatch!
Lisa moaned as she began masturbating and her fingers slipped deeper and deeper inside her cunt. And the moans became more audible as her passion rose to fill her body to overflowing while her finger-fucked herself in the dimly lit bathroom.
Craig heard the water running in the bathroom, but he paid it no mind at first.
He knew it must be his mother and as sleepy as he was, he didn't give it a second thought. Then, from his half-sleep, he heard her go downstairs, then return after only a few minutes. He lay there fighting for sleep to return and his eyelids flickered as he saw the light go out in the bathroom.
This caught his attention and suddenly, Craig found himself wide awake, wondering why his mother would want to take a bath with the lights out. Was she all right — could she be drunk? He had never seen her that way, but several times in the past few months, he had com home from school to find her just a little bit tipsy, and it was those times, her realized, too, that she had been crying.
Concerned and curious, Craig climbed quietly from his bed and made his way to the bathroom door. He listened and what he heard gave rise to more concern — it was his mother and she was moaning! He thought about just turning the knob and walking in — but no, that wasn't the way to handle it. If she were in the bathtub, he wouldn't want to embarrass her. Then he heard her moan again.
Unable to contain himself, Craig let himself out of his own room, walked quickly down the hall and entered the guestroom. A dim light shone through the partially opened doorway, and he made his way cautiously to peer inside. What Craig saw took his breath. His mother lay in the deep tub, her head thrown back and her teeth bared as he watched, she raised her legs until her knees pressed back against her naked tits and her fingers were fucking lewdly in and out of her exposed cunt!
Craig could not believe his eyes. Then he heard the words come from her mouth — just above a whisper and not much more, than a hiss… 'Yesssss… fuck me, darling… fuck me, Craig! Fuck me Deep!'
The boy's face burned hotly as he realized his mother was masturbating. The Craig thought about the films he had found, and the title of one he had loaned to his friend Tim: THE MOTHER FUCKERS. Has his father left those films for him as some sort of a message, a message he would understand more clearly as he grew older? Was it possible that his father had known he was dying and wanted Craig, his own son, to… to take care of his mother?
Craig felt his prick jump as his mother's fingers worked furiously at her cunt.
It was the first time her had ever seen a grown woman completely naked, and though he was not a virgin, he had only fucked one girl so far. Without thinking Craig took hold of his throbbing young cock and began to massage it gently, highly aroused by the sight of his own mother finger-fucking herself and another question came to him why in his bathroom and not her own? Was there some sort of message in this, too? Could it be that his mother had wanted him to awaken and find her like this? The excitement grew as he saw her tongue come out of her pretty mouth and, try like a tiny pink snake to lick her lips as she stretch out her legs and began pinching the nipples of her tits. Craig swallowed thickly as his mother raised up out of the water and shuddered as her body was shaken by an intense orgasm, and Craig realized it was just like when he came!
'Not enough… not enough!' Lisa whimpered as the orgasm passed and left her wanting. 'I need a man… I need my Craig!' and she sobbed deeply as she sat up and buried her face in her hands, her body racked with the emotion of need and loneliness.
Craig's prick jerked in his hand and he felt a sudden thrill go through his young body as he heard his mother call his name. Without thinking, his instincts told him she needed him and he pushed through the door to kneel beside the tub. He looked at his mother's shaking shoulders, and instinctively he reached out and put his arms about her. As he did, Lisa gave a start, and Craig's left hand, intended for her shoulder, inadvertently closed upon her right tit.
Lisa stared open-mouthed at her handsome young son as the touch of his hand on her naked tit sent a thrill through her wanting body. Her reflex was to grasp his hand tightly beneath her own as she cried out, 'C–Craig! What are you doing?'
Craig felt his mother's hand close over his, and the suddenness of the act left him wondering if it were an accident of whether she had taken his hand and placed it there. He felt the stiff nipple beneath his palm, and the soft flesh of her tit seemed to quiver as she stared at him wide-eyed.
'I… I heard you call me, M-Mom. I saw you… that is I'
'Oh, God!' Lisa wept and closed her eyes as she bit her lower lip. Her son had seen her finger-fucking herself! What must he think of her, how must he feel?
'Craig.' She said in a shaking voice, 'you… you don't understand, darling. I need… that is I want… ' and she felt her voice falter, unable to go on.
'I know mom. I understand,' he said soothingly as his hand began squeezing her tit gently.
And it was then that Lisa became fully aware of her son's hand as it kneaded the soft flesh of her boob. A new thrill raced through her as his word penetrated the fog of shame and frustration. He understood! But of course he would just as his father would have understood. And Lisa opened her eyes to look at her son's handsome face
