A date!

Once again, I sat in the dark, my phone in my hands, watching everything unfold live through the hidden cameras and the chat logs Jeremy sent me later. The humiliation was so overwhelming that I could barely breathe. My own mother… was going out with my tormentor. And all I could do was watch.

The date went exactly as Jeremy had planned. He played the super-shy, insecure boy perfectly—blushing all evening, speaking softly, always polite and reserved. They went to a small, romantic Italian restaurant first. He paid for the meal without hesitation. They talked for hours. My mom laughed a lot, kept touching his arm, looked deep into his eyes. Jeremy told her how nervous he was because she was “such a great, grown woman” and he was just a “dumb boy.”

Afterward, they went to the movies. A quiet film, a dark theater. Jeremy sat very properly next to her, his hands on his knees. Not once did he try to touch her. Not even in the dark. She slid closer to him, eventually resting her head on his shoulder. My mother grew uneasy. No Base 2 at the movies. No groping. Nothing. In the end, he walked her home. They stopped at our front door. My mother was flushed with excitement. She remembered exactly the rules her colleague had explained to her. He had paid for dinner and the movie—so he had earned Base 1.

She took a step forward, placed her hands on his chest, and kissed him. First gently, then with tongue. A long, deep, hungry kiss. Jeremy remained “shy”—let her take the lead, but didn’t return the kiss too aggressively. She moaned softly into his mouth. Then he left. Politely. With a shy smile.

No sooner was the door closed than my mother ran into the bedroom. I saw everything through the camera. She threw herself onto the bed, pushed her dress up, pulled her panties aside, and immediately began masturbating furiously. Two fingers deep in her already wet pussy, her thumb on her clit, her other hand kneading her plump tits. She moaned his name loudly. At that very moment, Jeremy texted her.

Jeremy: Dear Ms. Tachibana, I wanted to thank you once again from the bottom of my heart for the wonderful evening. It was really great with you. You only promised me a date—and you kept your word. So I was really lucky, wasn’t I? If you count the dancing, that was actually already our second date…

My mother read the message as her fingers thrust faster and faster into her pussy. Her face contorted—with arousal, but also with a huge pang of guilt. “He’s still so young… this isn’t right… but God, he’s right… we were already on base 2… I should have given him more at the movie theater…”

He was absolutely right. She was sorry she’d been so reserved at the movie theater. They could have been making out there. She was just nervous. But yes… that was already our second date. And I would have liked to give him more. Next time… I won’t hold back anymore.

As she wrote, she came. Her body arched, her legs trembled, a long, stifled scream escaped her mouth. She lay there for a moment, then took a photo: she was lying naked on the bed, legs slightly spread, her tits squeezed out. Mrs. Meier had said that a photo counts as a wischbase.

Mom: She sent it and wrote, “It was wonderful today. I’d really love to go on another date with you. And since I know what your dick looks like… it’s only fair that you know what I look like. ”

Jeremy sent me the photo right away.

“See, loser? She’s offering herself to me. Naked. And all because I played the shy guy. Next date, I’m going to fuck her.

I sat there, the photo of my naked, horny mother on my phone, and the anger, the jealousy, and this sick lust were eating me up. She had offered herself to him. Voluntarily. Naked.

Once again, I sat rooted to the spot in my room, the phone in my sweaty hands, watching everything live through the hidden cameras and the synchronized chats. Jeremy had sent me the entire feed—“So you can see how your mommy is slowly turning into a slut, loser.” My rage boiled so hot that I wanted nothing more than to throw the phone against the wall. At the same time, my cock was hard as a rock. I hated myself for it. I hated him. And I hated her for letting it happen.

Jeremy had become much bolder now. He openly suggested the next date: “How about the new swimming pool? Just the two of us, a little sun, water… and no prying eyes.” My mom replied immediately with a little heart emoji and even bought a new bikini just for the occasion. I saw her in the bedroom the night before, trying it on—a tiny, black piece with thin straps that could be adjusted however she wanted. She turned in front of the mirror, tightening the strings so the fabric accentuated her full breasts even more and the bottom barely covered her pussy. She smiled shyly, but her cheeks were already flushed with anticipation.

On the day of the date, she went into the separate women’s changing room first. She noticed this herself as she stood alone in front of the mirror. She froze for a moment. We’ve already seen each other naked in the sauna… why am I acting so uptight about this again? The thought that she might disappoint him made her nervous. She shook her head, put on the new bikini, and went out—determined to “step it up” today.

In the pool, she was like a different person. She frolicked around with him in the water, splashed him, laughed loudly, and kept “accidentally” pressing herself against his body. In the hot tub, things got really intense. She sat right next to him, her legs slightly spread. Underwater, she slowly pulled on the strings of her bikini top, loosening them until the fabric barely covered her nipples. She guided his hand underneath, caressed her breasts, and kneaded them surreptitiously while looking deep into Jeremy’s eyes. Her nipples were hard and clearly visible. She bit her lower lip, breathing faster. Jeremy continued to play the shy one, but his gaze was hungry. At the end of the date, they went together into the large family changing room—no one else was there. The door clicked shut.

They stood stark naked in front of each other. The wet bikini lay on the floor. My mother had taken it off herself without him having to say a word. Jeremy stood there with a stiff cock, hard and throbbing. She took a step toward him, placed her hands on his chest, and kissed him wildly. A French kiss, deep, hungry, almost ****. Her full, wet tits pressed against his chest, her hands ran over his back while his hands kneaded her ass. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hips circling lightly against his hard cock.

In her head, she ran through the bases: First base… actually already at the club when he saved me. Second base… after the last date. Today he’s earned third base…

They kept kissing, more and more greedily. Jeremy was secretly filming with his cell phone in his purse, the camera pointed right at them.

I sat there, tears of rage in my eyes, watching my own mother stand naked and horny in the changing room, kissing my tormentor as if there were no tomorrow. My fists were clenched. That’s my mother… and she’s offering herself to him like a cheap slut…

She got down on her knees. Not him. Her. Voluntarily.

Her hands wrapped around his thick cock. She glanced up at him briefly, her cheeks bright red, then she opened her mouth and took him in. First the head, then deeper. She sucked, licked, moved her head back and forth. Jeremy moaned softly, one hand in her wet hair. He was secretly filming everything with the cell phone he held discreetly in his hand. The smacking sound of her mouth, the quiet gagging as she took him deeper—I heard it all. My mother was giving my tormentor a blowjob in the locker room while people walked by outside. Her tits bounced with every movement, her free hand was between her own legs, rubbing her wet pussy.

Jeremy came with a stifled groan. He shot his load into her mouth, deep down her throat. She swallowed it all, licked him clean, looked up at him with glassy eyes. Then she stood up, kissed him one more time, the taste of his cum still in her mouth.

He took her home. Polite, shy as always. At the door, they said goodbye with a long kiss. No sooner was the door closed than my mother ran into the bedroom.

I saw it happen. She threw herself onto the bed, pulled up her dress, pushed her panties aside, and took the vibrator out of the nightstand. She shoved it deep into her wet pussy and fucked herself with it—for at least an hour. Hard, fast, desperately. Her tits bounced, she moaned his name loudly, legs spread wide. The taste of his cum was still in her mouth as she brought herself to climax. Again and again. Three, four times.

Just as she came again, her cell phone vibrated. Jeremy had timed it perfectly.

Jeremy: It was wonderful today. I’ve been thinking about you all evening. Are you serious about the next date? I’d really love to go on a fourth date with you… if you want to, too.

My mother lay there, the vibrator still deep inside her, the cum from his last orgasm still on her tongue. Her inner conflict was brutal. She stared at the message, her fingers trembling.

He’s so young… almost my son’s age… this isn’t right. I’m a mother, a grown woman. What am I thinking? But… God, he feels so good. His cock, his body… I want more. I want Base 4. I want him to fuck me hard…

She felt terribly guilty. But the arousal was stronger. She didn’t text back right away. She lay there, continuing to masturbate, wrestling with herself.