Open Door Policy, Ch. 2

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Open Door Policy, Ch. 2
by DirtyMindedMom

Everything was strange the next morning. Gary didn’t say more than two words as he got ready for school, and I said nothing as I got ready for work. He avoided eye contact and didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. Apparently my hastily conceived plan had only managed to replace one kind of awkwardness with a new kind of awkwardness. I couldn’t un-ring that bell, but I decided that I was simply going to have to work harder to keep my private time more private for the sake of my son. He had enough to deal with lately without having to overhear his mother giving herself screaming orgasms in the room next door to his.

When I dropped Gary off at his new school, he was out of the car with nothing more than a parting wave goodbye before I had a chance to shift into park. I worried about the foolish mistake I’d made all the way to work. What was I thinking? If splitting up with my cheating husband wasn’t already stressful enough, I was freaking my son out with my misplaced attempt to establish a more open and honest environment now that we’re wedged into such close quarters.

I arrived at work only a few minutes late and slipped into my tiny office in the back of the salon before anyone noticed. I fired up the computer, opened the bookkeeping software and began sorting through the pile of receipts and invoices that had been left on my desk. I tried to lose myself in the work, but my mind wouldn’t let go of last night.

Sure, it had been an awesome orgasm, and I couldn’t deny that in the three weeks since I’d walked out on my husband it was the first really good night of sleep I’d had. But it wasn’t worth making Gary feel uncomfortable in his own home (if you could call that crappy apartment a home). I hated to admit that in the moment I got a thrill out of the idea that he was listening to me moaning up a storm and maybe jerking off to it all, but in the light of day I was ashamed and embarrassed by my reckless behavior. What kind of mother does something like that?

Even if my son did get off on what happened last night, I’m sure he must be feeling guilty about it today. All I’d thought about was my need to cum; I hadn’t considered the consequences. I tried to put the whole thing out of my head several times, but in a matter of minutes thoughts of what I’d done crept back to nag at me. If that wasn’t bad enough, the more I thought about the night before, the more the image of my son beating off his hard cock filled my mind. It was despicable, but as the day wore on I had to admit to myself that I was getting horny from it all. I knew my panties were getting soaked and there was nothing I could do about it.

I couldn’t risk touching myself in my office to relieve the building tension, nor could I get away with diddling myself in the ladies’ room. For years I’d tried everything to contain myself and learn to have nice quiet orgasms, but nothing ever worked. The last thing I needed was for my boss to hear me screaming in the bathroom while I finger fucked myself to my happy place and end up getting fired. I put my head down and plowed ahead with my work as best as I could.

When I got home, I felt the usual relief that Gary had safely navigated his way through the city back to the apartment, but there was also something else. There was an odd flutter in my tummy the moment I saw him. It was the kind of flutter a woman gets when she sees a man she’s attracted to, not the kind a mother gets when she sees her son. I tried to shake it off and launched into the speech I’d been practicing on the ride home.

“We need to talk,” I began. “First of all, I’m sorry about last night, honey.”

He looked up from his homework, meeting my eye. “Sorry? Why?”

“I think you know why. I shouldn’t have done what I did, and I’m sorry to have put you in such an awkward position. That’s not something a boy should have to deal with.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom. It’s no big deal.” He chewed the end of his pen nervously for a moment before going on. “Actually, I’ve kinda been thinking about it all day. It’s sorta cool in a way. Well, maybe not cool, exactly, but everyone does it, right? But nobody has the balls…uh, sorry…the guts to talk about it.”

“Maybe there’s a good reason for that.” I sat down, kicked off my shoes and rubbed one of my tired stocking feet. Gary seemed to be following my every move in a way that I’d never noticed him doing before. “Perhaps privacy is the best policy.”

Gary shrugged and turned back to his homework. “Okay, but just so you know, the noise doesn’t bother me any.”

I got up and started dinner. That talk hadn’t gone the way I’d rehearsed it. I had expected to do all the talking, but he obviously had his own thoughts on the situation. Had he really been thinking all day about what he’d heard? That insistent ache was back in my pussy, begging for attention. As tempting as it was, I resolved to keep my hands off myself from now on unless I had the apartment to myself.

After an unexpectedly relaxed dinner, we watched TV for an hour or so before Gary excused himself and went to his room. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop imagining him pulling his pants down as soon as he closed the door and yanking his cock as hard as he could. This was getting ridiculous. I decided to take a shower to cool off.

I stepped out of the stand-up stall feeling somewhat refreshed. The horniness had been quelled to a dull pulse. I just had to get through tonight without any more inappropriateness and I’d be in the clear. As I dried myself off, I noticed the bathroom door wasn’t closed all the way. I thought I’d shut it tight when I came in. As a matter of fact, I was certain I had.

I wrapped the towel around myself and peeked out. Gary’s bedroom door was only a few steps away, and it was closed. I decided to do a little experiment. I stepped out of the bathroom, closed the door most of the way and peered through the crack. There wasn’t much to see from that angle, then I realized that the mirror provided a full view of the bathroom and the shower stall. If my son had been spying on me, he would have been able to see everything.

The anger welled up suddenly. Did all the men in my life feel like they could take advantage of me whenever they wanted to and not care? Like I was nothing more than something to be used? I wanted to march into Gary’s room and let him have it, but instead I took a deep breath and counted to ten. I wasn’t going to fly off the handle and do something I’d regret later. I went back into the bathroom and closed the door. I finished drying off, put on my body lotion, fixed my hair, and took my makeup off. At first I was seething, but the more I thought about my son spying on me the more turned on I got. This wasn’t the way I wanted to feel.

I put on my robe, then went and knocked on his door.

“Hold on.”

I didn’t bother waiting. I got a glimpse of my son’s erection as he yanked his blanket up to hide himself. I also noticed that his computer was closed on his desk. The idea that he was jerking off to thoughts of me instead of porn popped into my mind and I wasn’t able to push it aside quick enough.

“I know you were spying on me in the shower just now,” I said firmly, leaving no room for denial. “I hope you liked what you saw.” My tone was more stern than seductive.

“I was…I accidentally…” He saw the set expression of my face and knew he wasn’t going to get away with any lying excuses. “Um…sorry.”

“As much as I don’t like it, you have plenty of porn right there.” I pointed at his computer. “Why are you wasting time trying to see me naked?”

He shrugged, his cheeks coloring. “I don’t know. You’re not like them.” He nodded to his laptop. “You’re real. And…”

“And what?”

“And…sexy.”

Not what I was expecting to hear. My plan was to gently scold him and nip this in the bud, but instead I heard myself saying words that I couldn’t believe were coming from me.

“Fine, well, I just want to let you know that I’m going to my room now. I’m going to leave my door open. You don’t need to sneak and spy on me like a creepy pervert. If you want to watch me get undressed and get ready for bed, then you’re more than welcomed to. I don’t have anything left to hide.”

He swallowed hard and looked like he couldn’t tell if I was talking crazy or if I meant it. To be honest, I didn’t know myself. I turned and left his room, not bothering to shut his door behind me. I went to my bedroom, and took off my robe before I could have second thoughts. I walked around my room naked, getting out my clothes I was going to wear for tomorrow and tidying up things that didn’t need tidying.

I hated to admit that I was a little disappointed that Gary didn’t take my invitation, but he also didn’t go so far as to close his door. Our bedroom doors were at right angles to one another and if he stood in the right spot he’d be able to see into part of my bedroom. Maybe he was catching sight of me as I moved around naked. It was disgusting that I wanted to put on such a shameless display for my son, but I was enjoying the illicit thrill of it too much to stop. I dug out a small box from my closet, tore off the tape, and took out one of the three dildos that was packed in there along with a couple of negligees I hadn’t worn in over a decade. I turned off the light, got into bed, and began sucking the fake cock.

My fingers worked over my swollen pussy. It had been eager for attention all day, and I was finally going to take care of myself like I deserved. I slid the spit-slicked dildo into my pussy nice and easy.

“Uuuuuggggh, yes…that’s what I’m talking about.” The words came unbidden to my lips. I didn’t bother trying to suppress them. My door was open, my son’s door was open, and he was going to hear what he was going to hear. No point in holding back. “Oh, that cock feels good in my pussy.”

I began fucking myself with the toy using long, even strokes. I normally just set it to vibrate and tease my clit until I orgasm, but just then I needed something hard inside me. I kept glancing to the threshold of my doorway looking for a shadowy figure, but it seemed Gary wasn’t bold enough to take me up on my offer even with the lights out. No matter, I was going to cum hard either way.

“Oh, fuck me. Fuck me, baby. Just like that. Ah, ah, ah, ooooo.” I worked my pussy faster, never letting a second go by where I wasn’t making some kind of sound. “Uuunngg, nice and deep, yeah, fill that pussy up all the way, baby.”

Normally when I masturbate I fantasize that I’m being tended to by a faceless stranger. Tonight he wasn’t a stranger, and he definitely had a face. It was the face of my son. I knew I shouldn’t be going there, even in the privacy of my own mind, but it was no use trying to resist.

“Mommy needs to cum so bad. Uh, uh, uh, yes. Make Mommy cum with that hard cock. Oh, fuck, yeah! Give it to me!”

I’d only seen my son’s hard-on for a quick second, but that image was fixed in my mind’s eye. I was pumping myself fast and hard. I knew my son would be hearing every sound I uttered, but I also realized that he could probably also hear the wet sounds of my dildo plunging in and out of my sopping hole. That thought only encouraged me all the more.

“Oh, God, yes!” I screamed. “You like fucking that cunt, don’t you? Ah, yes. Ah, yes. Ah, yesss! Fuck that cunt! Gimme that hard cock! Fuck my cunt good! Aaaaaaaahhh!”

With that I came in a flash of sensations that rocked my whole body in an instant surge of unadulterated pleasure. All the day’s tension, worry, and anger was released in a sudden burst and replaced with a cascade of happy feelings that flooded my brain and washed away all the negativity. That’s when I heard something from Gary’s room.

“Oh, shit! Uuuuuuh, uh, uh…uh…”

There was no mistaking it this time. I had definitely just heard my son make himself cum. He was lying in his darkened room at that very moment with warm semen splattered all over his chest, belly and hand. And if that wasn’t enough, I knew his orgasm came as a result of listening to me getting myself off.

How could something this wrong feel so damn fucking good?

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Chapter 3 >>

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22 thoughts on “Open Door Policy, Ch. 2

  1. Reminds me of the times I listened to my parents fucking. I used to get so turned on I would take all my clothes off and find something to hump on my bed.

  2. So. Fucking. Hot. How about mommy undressing out of her office clothes…including sexy stockings and lingerie.

  3. Oh my, I will need to get my own toys out right now! Hope my son doesn’t hear ;-)

  4. Beautiful – – very hot. More please. So looking forward to Chapter 3. Would also love to see another chapter of the School Nurse story. Thanks and best wishes.

  5. I love part 1 and part 2. That was the hottes I got in some time. I love your writing so much Rachael.

  6. Oh yes!!! My son has seen me naked all his life so I know how Gary must feel too now!

  7. I admire your restraint. The gradual build-up is very good. A standard incest story on a site like Literotica would have the son fucking his mother’s pussy by the third paragraph of chapter 1, and fucking her in the arse by the para 4.

    It was disgusting that I wanted to put on such a shameless display for my son, but I was enjoying the illicit thrill of it too much to stop.

    As well as masturbation and incest, female exhibitionism is emerging as a major theme here. A woman – who was in her late fifties, I believe – told me online a while ago that all women like to ‘show off’ and be ogled, even though most would never admit to it. (She didn’t mention masturbating loudly for her son to hear, though. – lol) I have no way of knowing if her generalization is correct, but the advent of the Internet certainly brought the female exhibitionists out in force. That’s wonderful, of course, since all men like to ogle, even though most of us disguise it, at least in public.

    I wonder if there’s always an exciting conflict for a woman when she’s deliberately ‘showing too much’ or wiggling provocatively. (I do so like a sexy wiggle!) Is the conflicted feeling – “I’m being bad! It feels so good!” – the central attraction of exhibitionism for women? Does ‘being bad’ make you wet? I sincerely hope it does.

  8. @CarlW: Yes, well you might change your mind when you get to chapter 21 and I’m still restraining myself! Enjoy the torture!

  9. @DirtyMindedMom

    I realise the writing is restrained but I wonder how much you restrained yourself while you were writing? Having learned a little about your writing habits now, from your blog posts, I think the answer is probably ‘not a lot’. (lol)

    Onwards and upwards with the Open Masturbation Revolution!

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