Mom gets angry

"SO THIS IS WHAT YOU DO ON A SATURDAY MORNING?", his mother yelled.

"I.... I...", John began, stammering.

"Don't think I haven't noticed you leering at me.", her eyes couldn't help but stare at his large endowment. "You have the nerve to touch youself when I am in the room?"

"Well... I...", John stuttered.

His embarasment got the better of him, and he reached to cover himself with his bedsheet. His mother lost her anger, sitting on the side of his bed and putting a hand on his cheek in a soft and gentle manner.

"I'm sorry mom...", John appologized.

"It is natural for a young man to feel this way. How often do you touch yourself?", his mother asked.

"Once a week", he replied. Judging by the sticky sheets and tissues she always found in his room, it had to be a hell of a lot more than that.

"What were you thinking about, when you were just touching yourself?", she asked. He leaned in closer to him, her large breasts looming in front of him, her naked thighs inches from his arm. "Were you thinking of me?", she asked with poison on her tongue. Her pussy quivered, awaiting the answer she longed for.

"Uh-huh", John replied, averting his eyes. His face was beat red.

"Look at me, John", she grabbed his chin with a petite hand, and **** his eyes to look at her. They lingered on her chest, then found her eyes. "We need to be honest with each other...... when you were thinking about me, was I naked?"

John shook his head yes. "You were on top of me, riding me"

Her hand brushed against his thigh, finding its way to the base of his cock. She gave his balls a gentle squeeze.

His mother's wore a mask of pure lust, her voice husky as she said "I can help you with these urges of yours."