“Sometimes,” she said now looking down and away from me, speaking softly as she said it, admitting it. “But…it has been a while for me too,” she added.
“Well then you should.”
Once again she laughed, blushing even more. “Oh sure…maybe I should just head off to my bedroom, close the door and get myself off, is that what you’re actually telling me I should do?”
“Well no…not exactly. I was thinking more along the lines of you just doing it here…while I watched, while you watched me.”
I hadn’t honestly intended to take it this far. Or to so openly pose or make the suggestion. But I was, and had been truly and honestly aroused, even more so now knowing what I knew. My advantage was in knowing that, knowing what my own mother’s secret private thoughts about me had been. And though that indeed might have changed by now, I was gambling on the fact that they hadn’t.
She tried laughing it off as though I was teasing her, joking around with her, until she saw me reach down, grabbing my cock as I stood there stroking myself in front of her.
“George, you’re not…you can’t be…serious. Are you? I mean…I am after all…your mother!”
“Yes I know that, and you’re my very beautiful, very attractive mother too. And I’ve been standing here for a while now, imagining you inside my head. There, I’ve said it. I’ve admitted it. I’ve been enjoying myself while thinking about you, trying to remember the way you looked when I’ve seen you naked before.”
“You have? I mean…you are? You did? When?”
I was scrambling here, trying to come up with something specific, and decided to try bluffing my way through it. See if I could get her to buy into it if I could.
“Just days before I left,” I started hoping I’d come close to some sort of truth, using the information I now had, making a few assumptions perhaps, but fairly certain that in doing so, I wasn’t that far off the mark.
“When? When did you see me…see me doing that?” She pressed, though as she did, I could hear an edge of excitement in her words.
“Remember how you used to sit down stairs late in the evening reading a book?” Which was true, she always did. But I knew as her eyes widened, I was closer to the truth than I actually realized, and decided to see if I could trick her into admitting to me now that she actually did.
“Yes…” she spoke softly, almost quietly.
“Well, one night, I woke up thirsty, decided to come down stairs and get something to drink. I noticed it was later than usual, and the table lamp was still on. I thought maybe you had fallen asleep while sitting there reading, so I approached the stairs quietly not wanting to wake you. And then I saw you. I stood there and watched you, watched you as you fingered yourself.”
“Oh my god! You did? You…you caught me masturbating?”
“Yeah I did, and it was hot too mom! You looked so sensual, so erotic sitting there touching yourself. And because you did, I then found I couldn’t help myself, so I stood there on the stairs without you knowing I was, and stroked myself off while I watched you.”
“Right there? On the stairs?” It was obvious she was trying to look back and remember if she’d heard anything, obviously she thought she was being careful.
“In fact…you almost caught me I think. I barely turned around and got back up out of sight when you turned to look. But the fact was, I actually wished you had. I had secretly wanted you to see me, see me standing there jerking off, knowing full well I was thinking of you when I did. Just like I am now…” I said once again drawing her attention back to my hard fucking cock, which I now fisted pleasurably for her as she stood there watching me do it. “Just like…you are now,” I finished.