Hell, she's lucky you're only watching...

Suddenly without warning, Sarah spins around on the heel of her foot putting you directly in her line of site. Frozen with fear, the soothing sounds of running water are drowned out by the intensifying drum of your own heartbeat ringing in your ears.

You've put yourself in an absurdly compromising position and surely there'd be no acceptable explanation for a son to be jerking off to his bathing mother...

The surreality of your exposure induces a complete loss for words, and an exchange of your sexual angst for guilt and embarrassment. But these new found emotions are yet again quickly replaced by confusion at her lack of a response to your un-invited presence. She doesn't even appear to be looking directly at her intruder.

A quiet sigh of relief escapes your lips, shrouded by the bathrooms ambiance. You can see now that Sarah's eyes are closed tightly to avoid the meandering streams of shampoo running down her face.

Obviously unaware of your presence she returns one hand to her breast while the other finds its way between her thigh.

In full view of her mentally deficient offspring Sarah begins to knead her breast with one hand, stopping occasionally to supplement the stimulation by pinching and twisting her stiff nipple, while the other hand makes vigorous circles between her thighs, teasing her blushing pussy lips. Leaning her head back, a shameless moan of pleasure escapes her adorable mouth.

Slowly but surely her strokes pick up pace, the circular motion of her hand over her swelling clitorous becoming more vigorous. Her sensual moans of pleasure gradually increasing in volume and frequency. All the while you silently stroke your cock in tandem doing your best to hold back any moans of your own.

Sarahs chest starts to heave, swaying her supple tits with each upwards and downwards motion. Her moans turn to short labored shallow breaths as her smooth fair skinned cheeks begin to blush a deep red.

Her whole body shudders with the **** of her orgasm. The hand wrapped around her breast squeezes so tightly it looks as though it might burst, while the hand beneath her thighs cups her pussy to stem the post orgasm sensitivity. All the while a steady stream squirts from between her thighs oozing around her shivering hand.

Nearing your own orgasm and yet uninterested in leaving evidence of your visit, you turn towards the toilet paper dispenser but before you can retrieve a sheet an infinitely more inviting opportunity falls in your site.

Your mother's change of clothes lies directly to your right, draped over the laundry hamper. Her outfit consist of a red dress and matching lingerie. Without a second thought you snatched the panties off the top of the dress and wrap them around the end of your cock.

The sensations of the silky material combined with the clear view of Sarah pleasuring herself open the floodgates of your manhood.

Rope after rope of cum drenches the expensive lingerie as your eyes stayed glued to the raunchy show Sarah unwittingly puts on for her son. You can feel the carnal heat of your own semen in the palm of your hand as it saturates the entire length of Sarah' panties.

Your chest heaves from the sexual release as ragged breaths retreat from your worn heated body. Copious globs semen collide with the spotless marble floor at your feet, forming conspicuous little puddles with each silent splash. The fleshy anaconda between your thighs persists at full attention in anticipation.

With so little standing in between you and your mothers **** holes, your reservations concerning her well being begin diminish to little more than an afterthought. Recklessly tossing the soiled panties back to their original resting place, flicking droplets of cum across the room and landing with a squishy plop on top of your mothers designer dress.

Just as your first step makes contact with the ground initiating your aproach…

“DING DING DING*

Three shrill synthetic bell rings go off causing both you and your mother to jump in surprise. Without turning around Sarah simply continues to rinse off as she calls out to you, still under the impression that you are in the living room napping.

“DAVID, CAN YOU GET THE DOOR PLEASEEEE?” Sarah yells.