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My mother did it one day. I had no idea it was going to happen until it was already happening, and I had no choice but to go along with it. This is the best I can recall of exactly what happened during that forty-five minutes that in some ways will always stay with me. First off, let me tell you that my mother is a truly sexy woman, and we have been living secretly as husband and wife for years. She's fairly well-off, and she has this thing she likes for us to do, and we do it several times a year.

Pantied by mom

Pantied by mom passed again and I moj if Mom might come back in so I waited. Cum on Mom's panties The moment I had waited so long for had come and passed in the blink of an eye. I couldn't think of anything else I could do, short of walking out into the kitchen, to get her to confront me. It was a very naughty fantasy and I felt extremely shameful but the more Patnied Pantied by mom got, the bolder my fantasy got. The girl was in her early twenties.

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On the table there were several neatly wrapped packages, all light pink, the name of an upscale lingerie and bridal boutique emblazoned on each box. Beautiful big belly mature BBW loves to play with her juicy pussy. With no break in between she started with ten whacks Panied both cheeks Pantied by mom the same time. She had just gotten out of the shower and her panties were laying on the floor along with her 34 b bra. Mature Sex Taboo Polar Porn HD She had Cyberjaya sex it all, and there was a lot of Asian bang. I just was turned on by bu a pair of ladies panties in my room. She asked us to please hold on for a second, and she went bt to Pantied by mom of the ladies working in mkm store--presumably her manager--and said something no one could overhear between the two of them. She started to show us various pairs, asking very discreetly about my preferences. Granny Flash My friend never found out about this and I hope he never will. The Mature Ladies Amira Films But she's kept it mostly secret, hasn't she?

I took the biggest risk of my life, a few months after my eighteenth birthday.

  • My mother did it one day.
  • I woke at 6 am and got ready for school, excited that it was a Friday and looking forward to the usual Friday night ritual my mom and I shared of renting a movie and ordering a pizza.
  • I had been suspicious of your visits to my panty drawer for quite some time, but it wasn't until I bought that nanny-cam that I could confirm it.
  • I am not a total perv.

I took the biggest risk of my life, a few months after my eighteenth birthday. I'm older now, and yet, even though that first big risk made me a bold person, who once went up to a beautiful woman on the street and asked her out I've never taken as big a risk as I did that day. It was my mother's birthday.

She was turning thirty-eight. It had always been just the two of us, and in a way it was us against the world. We were very close--even too close, by most standards. Just a few nights before her birthday she had sent me to the video store, and when I came back and popped the movie in, she had snuggled up against me, so that we were almost spooning on the couch.

She didn't seem to think there was anything inappropriate about that, and I was wildly excited. That night I found, in the hamper, what I was pretty certain she had been wearing on the couch, and wrapped the panties around my throbbing cock, pumping it to thoughts of her sucking me, and exploded in an incredible orgasm, soaking the back of her panties.

I knew one thing, and guessed another. I knew that I was in love with my own mother. Not in the way a son should be, but in the way a man is attracted to a sexy older woman--an older woman who would know exactly how to please him. She was so beautiful to me. She had shoulder-length red hair, extremely large breasts, a trim waist, and a bottom that was beautifully large and firm.

I knew what was under her clothes. I had worn her panties, her slips, her bras, and her stockings and garters. I had come into her panties so many times I couldn't count, and every time it felt like the semen was shooting out of me so hard that I would hurt myself. I knew that my stomach turned to jelly whenever I saw her panty line, and that I would have to rush to the bathroom to masturbate if she, unthinkingly, walked past me in only her bra and panties.

That was the thing I knew. The thing I guessed was that my mother felt the same way about me. Maybe, when she would snuggle with me, or just lie next to me and hold me, maybe she was in denial.

I didn't really understand denial back then, but I do now, and I think that's the best way to put it. I was a good-looking, trim young man, with a nice face, and she was a gorgeous woman in her thirties who hadn't dated since I was born. In fact, she was divorced before I was born, so unless she was sneaking quickies at work, which was highly unlikely, she hadn't had sex since she had conceived me.

This must have been her way of touching a man. Maybe she wanted to touch me more. I didn't know. Maybe she did but she didn't know it. All I knew was that I desperately wanted her, more than anything else, and I was willing to take a risk that was so big, that I was terrified all that morning, the butterflies in my stomach feeling more like giant mosquitoes.

I was waiting for her to wake up. She had to work, so she would be up by seven, but I had been unable to sleep all night, and, laying and watching my bedroom ceiling, and the glow-in-the-dark stars that she and I had put up so many years ago, I lay and dreamed about all the possible outcomes of taking my risk, of giving her her birthday present.

Some of it was just sheer fantasy, but sometimes reality would strike me, and I would realize that this was probably going to be a very embarrassing scene. She might even ask me to move out. She might never talk to me again. I knew this might happen. I was in the kitchen, the small box with the silk ribbon on the table in front of me, and I waited.

She would ask what it was, and I would tell her. That's all I had to do. The giant mosquitoes in my stomach be damned. All I had to do was do two things. I had to keep the box on the table, and I had to tell her it was for her. And I had to wait for her to come into the kitchen. She was doing something in the back. I heard the shower turn on. This wasn't good. She might not even come into the kitchen before work.

She might grab a bite at the drive-thru, and the only thing I would hear from her would be a "Bye! Time must have dilated for me in my anxiety, because she suddenly walked into the kitchen.

She was stunning. Her business suit was all black, and every time she moved, I heard her slip sliding against her stockings, her panties, and her bra. Silk against silk. How wonderful it must have been to be a sexy woman, dressing herself in silk underwear, feeling it rub against her nipples, and her pussy, all day long. She smiled at me, leaned over, and kissed me on the lips. This was another thing she did all the time, and never seemed to notice she was doing. The first thing she said was, "Is that for me?

I had run this scene over and over in my head all night long, and, to a lesser degree, since I had thought of it a week before. When it came down to it, though, I couldn't speak.

I had to, or she would go about getting breakfast, and the moment would pass. I choked out, very hesitatingly, "Yes. You look like you've seen a ghost. I heard her take the top off the package. Then there was absolute silence. It seemed to last an eternity. This was one of the responses I had expected, yet she still hadn't really responded.

It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. She laid the box back down in front of me, with a very gentle touch. She said to me, in a soft voice, "What is this? She then said, just as softly, "Why did you give me these? She had picked up a corner of the white satin panties on top, so that she could see that there was a red satin pair underneath. I don't know how I did it, but I told her what I had practiced all the night before.

I said, as best I could, "One is for you, and one is for me. She stood stock still. I couldn't look at her, so I couldn't tell how she was taking it, but there was no movement, and no sound. She broke the silence by saying, "What are you doing? It was the worst I had expected. I couldn't speak. She said, "Answer me. What do you think you're doing? I wished she would move it up, but she didn't. She said, "I don't know exactly what you are up to, but I think I think you're trying to seduce me.

Am I right? She put one arm around my shoulders, and pulled me to her, kissing me on the lips. I guess all the anxiety of the night had been more than I'd thought. The tears just poured out of me, on to the shoulder of her business suit. She rocked me back and forth, and kissed me on the cheek. Something odd started to nag at me in the back of my mind. At first I couldn't tell what it was, but then it struck me. I said to her, in a tear-choked voice, "You're going to be late for work.

It didn't necessarily mean anything, but my heart began to race. She stood up, and went over to the kitchen phone. I heard the numbers beeping as she dialed, and then a pause. She said into the phone, "Hi, Rachel? This is her.

Look, I can't come in today. No, I know. Yes, I sound just fine, but to tell you the truth, I've got a fever, and my stomach is doing really bad. I can't keep anything down.

Very good quality satin, as it turned out. I remembered her panties in my back pocket and pulled them out and began rubbing them underneath my shirt and over my nipples. Password Forgot? I then explained everything to you — the months of misplaced underwear, the nanny cam, and that it was time for you to be punished — and you stood there, staring at the patterns on the kitchen floor, turning redder and redder. Yes, flag for moderation Close. When I looked closer, I could actually see her bush sticking out between her legs and at that instant, my cock stiffened and I felt precum ooze into my pants.

Pantied by mom

Pantied by mom

Pantied by mom

Pantied by mom

Pantied by mom

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Her huge hanging tits were stretching the tshirt taut and I could see the large dark ovals of her nipples underneath the shirt. She looked beautiful. She turned to leave the room and I found myself gazing at her full round ass cheeks just barely visible underneath the shirt. When I looked closer, I could actually see her bush sticking out between her legs and at that instant, my cock stiffened and I felt precum ooze into my pants.

Then suddenly, she turned and looked back at me and caught me staring at her ass. My mom, being the little vixen that she is, decided to have some fun with me and called me downstairs.

When I got down there I found my mom in the kitchen reaching for package of chocolate on the top shelf of the pantry. Her shirt had lifted so that her ass was now totally exposed to my eyes which were locked on to such a beautiful sight. She looked over her shoulder at me and caught me — again. I guess I never noticed until today, but you could be a movie star if you wanted. She blushed and scooped up this unusual appraisal with relish. My dick immediately firmed when she did this, especially since I could feel her ample tits squash against my chest.

By the way, what did you rent? I started skimming through it and noticed that my own mother was hotter than any of the models featured in the pages. I remembered her panties in my back pocket and pulled them out and began rubbing them underneath my shirt and over my nipples. Then, I did something unexpectedly.

My dick quickly stiffened at the tightness of the silk. I started rubbing my cock through the silk and was about to get more vigorous when I heard my mom call out that the pizza had arrived. After we finished eating my mom was now in her nightgown, a little see-through number that stopped just below her ass we moved into the den to watch the movie. We were both under the same blanket and we were both angled at each other resting against opposite arms of the sofa.

I did so only to remember I was wearing her panties. One of the straps of her nightie had fallen off her shoulder and the top of her tit was now visible. I extended my legs and put my feet on top of hers. She was scrunched up with her knees at her chest and she looked at me with a smile. I took one of her feet into my hands and rested it on my between my legs.

I started caressing her foot gently but firmly. I tickled her foot and she quickly took her foot away and started giggling. I then moved over closer to grab her hands so she would stop, but she kept playing and giggling so I started tickling her sides and brushed my hands over her chest and hips nonchalantly.

My dick began bulging out of her panties and I wanted nothing else but to fuck my mother at that moment. Finally with all the squirming, the blanket fell onto the floor revealing my curious state of arousal and the panties struggling to restrain my hardened dick.

My mom looked down and gasped. I immediately turned blood red and was mortified. My dangerous gamble had embarrassed me to no end. She quickly grabbed the blanket and pulled it over both of us. I found them in my sheets and it was just an impulse to put them on. I just was turned on by finding a pair of ladies panties in my room.

We were both underneath the blanket next to each other. I put a hand around her waste as she stroked my hair. I did so and she pulled up her nightie exposing her thickly matted bush and began rubbing her erect clit all the while looking into my eyes cooing at me. Her other hand found one of her huge tits and began pinching and pulling at her nipple. You were so embarrassed. And not only were you naked but you were hard, remember?

I almost burst out laughing I was so surprised. I hadn't expected that. Of course, I didn't know then just how much of a sissy my little boy was. I made you hold your arms out as I clasped the bra strap behind your back. The front hung a little loosely on your chest so I stuffed the cups with tissue paper from one of the packages — this was before Brittany gave you those breast pads we use so much. I knelt down in front of you and pulled the stockings up your legs, smoothing them out as I did so.

Then came the garter belt, and as I pulled it around your waist and started clipping it to the stockings I began making "accidental" contact with the erection bobbing in front of you — my hand would brush it, or my hair. You gasped each time, horrified but aroused by what your mom was doing to you.

And to tell you the truth I was starting to feel the same way. For some reason dressing you up was really turning me on. I did the back clips and your little butt was so cute that I had to give it a smack.

I laughed when you jumped. You stepped through the thong panties and I slid them up your legs. Your erection strained against the tiny patch of fabric.

I smirked. I could tell you were humiliated by how excited you were, which in turn only made you more excited. Let's see if the shoes fit. You were a bit wobbly, as the heels were very high, probably too high for a beginner. Then I put the necklace on you, the dangly earrings, a little makeup, a spritz of perfume. I stood back and admired my handiwork. I was impressed. If someone had looked through the window then, and somehow not noticed the obvious bulge in your panties, they would have only seen two beautiful women in skimpy lingerie.

I made you look at yourself in the full-length mirror on the wall, turning to see yourself from all angles. It hit suddenly me how much I loved what we were doing.

And I made a decision then. A decision I got to make because I'm your mother, and you're my son. I decided to buy you lots of bras and panties, and dresses too, and high heels.

I was going to throw out your boy clothes. I would teachyou how to put on makeup and keep me company and help me around the house, and all the other things I wanted you to do. I was tired of having a troublesome, perverted little boy. I was going to make you into something else, and if you complained or refused, well, I always had those videos to threaten you with.

I didn't tell you this then, of course. Instead I hugged you, my bra rubbing against yours. A real kiss. Like this. You resisted at first but gave in quickly. I pulled you into me. I think I knew then that you were really mine, and that you knew it too, that I could do anything with you that I wanted.

I grabbed your hand and led you, my baby, up the stairs and down the hall, our matching heels clicking in rhythm on the hardwood all the way to my bedroom. Report Story. So far. Please, Please, tell us more. My dirty little mind is imagining the most wonderful time in Mommies room. Title of your comment:.

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Login or Sign Up. Literotica is a trademark. No part may be reproduced in any form without explicit written permission. Password: Forgot your password? Security code:. Aunt Diana Ch. Submit bug report. Please Rate This Submission: 1 5 best. Please Rate This Submission: 1 2 3 4 5. Recent Comments by Anonymous. My mom told me to be a good boy and pretty up.

Mommy left. More please I am so turned on. I wish my mommy would have known what a sissy I am and done that with me.

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My name is Trish not real obviously and I have been reading lots of stories on various pages of late. Most of them are really exciting and some are quite different. Note: ——I am NOT the author! Well here I am at my mothers funeral. As I stand in the cold January wind, I think of growing up with mom. Jason, at years of age, one day wandered into his mother's bedroom and, looking through her dresser, his world was suddenly turned upside down as he picked up and eventually tried on his mom's panties and bras, one set after the other.

Gettng caught in Mom's panties I often wondered what would happen if Mom walked in on me while I was dressed in her underwear ever since the close call I had when I was 8. I was wearing her white nylon slip bra and panties. She came home while I was in her room. I closed and locked the door, changed and came out, claiming to have 'taken a nap'. I'm sure Mom saw right thru me and knew something was up.

I was so tense it took me an hour to calm down from the adrenaline rush. From then on, I had a heightened sense of thrill, risk and danger while dressing in her panties and slips. I chose to remain in her room while dressing, as it was the only way to quickly change and get her things back.

I guess I figured it was better for her to find me in her room empty handed rather than me in my room with her things. I HAD to get her things back, in order, or risk discovery. It never occurred to me to keep her things hidden in my room. I was too scared to even think of trying that! More and more, I fantasized about Mom catching me.

It was a very naughty fantasy and I felt extremely shameful but the more aroused I got, the bolder my fantasy got. I imagined her catching me on her bed in an extreme state of arousal. At the brink of orgasm, I felt bold enough to stand my ground and show Mom my enjoyment of her panties. More truthfully, I would be so close to coming that would have to freeze in place, any move causing the light caress of nylon to send me over the edge.

Having Mom walk in on me at this point when I was unable to hide or even move fueled many a naughty panty fantasy from the ages of , particularly when I started sleeping in her panties and slips. I always wondered if Mom could hear me at night. This idea, this fantasy of getting caught by Mom began turning into a compulsion and was gaining momentum. The disturbing thing was that the wild daydreams were becoming bolder and more shocking and lately more so than ever.

It was one thing to feel good running around the house, feeling the silky sensual caress of nylon on my sensitive skin. I imagined that a woman must feel the very same way as I did, becoming sexually aroused at the mere feel of nylon underwear.

Even the thought of it got me excited. What worried me now was the intense urge to expose my panty fetish to her. I had several opportunities a week to dress in her panties while she was out. What was there to really gain?

I remember lying on my bed and masturbating in her panties while she was on the phone one day Mom commonly chatted up a storm on the phone at times.

Soon I began fantasizing about how I could possibly get caught by her. Should I be wearing her bra slip and panties or would panties alone do? In my room or hers? I had to rationalize and reason each part of the fantasy. It had to make sense, make it seem accidental. I would never have had enough nerve to walk out in front of her so she had to be the 'discoverer' walking in on me.

I would be taking my chances that Mom would walk in on me while I was asleep. This left getting caught beyond my control. I liked the idea of Mom catching me while I was asleep because it meant it was an accident, even though I had been planning these naughty escapades already for a few years. Because these were so carefully plotted I had to make them look completely accidental, as if I didn't want to get caught. I realized that the longer I laid in her bed waiting for her to come home, the more hot and bothered I would become.

This idea had me giddy and excited but I knew I didn't have that kind of courage. I also plotted to take all of her silky panties, slips and bras and put them in my drawer for her to find. I imagined the surprise she would feel opening an empty drawer!

Finding them all in my room would definitely lead to a long talk that I so separately wanted, even needed. When I could take no more I pushed myself to realize this fantasy. I would let Mom walk in on me in my own bedroom while wearing a pair of her panties.

I thought about wearing a slip as well but found that too bold. Panties would certainly accomplish what I sought to do. I wanted to let Mom know I was wearing her panties in the hopes of getting her approval to some degree; a slip would only increase the chance of a negative response.

I reasoned that I could pretend to be 'changing', though I really had no reason to be doing so late in the afternoon when she came home. Of course, I would have to wait in my room and wait for her to walk in on me and make it look like I was just changing. I didn't want to spend too long waiting for her to come in. The longer I stood there the more awkward it would seem.

She really had little reason to walk in my room during the day, unless she was putting away laundry, so I could be waiting minutes or even hours. I wondered if she might call out to see if I was home when she walked in. Would it be best to answer or not? How would I lead her into walking into my room? I stood in my room many times in her panties imaging how it would go and hoping she would walk in quickly while I was feeling so daring.

Actually, it was all a big charade for me, pushing myself into situations where I could get caught. I had begun taking to walking into her room in her slip bra and panties while leaving my jeans and shirt in my room, daring Mom to walk in so quickly that she would trap me in her room before I could run into mine to change.

As much as I fantasized getting caught in all reality I was terrified that it would ever happen. But for all this fear the constant eroticism of masturbating to this fantasy led me closer and closer to enacting it.

However, I feared that getting caught might lead to serious repercussions. If Mom reacted harshly I could be permanently putting an end to my wonderful panty play. This was a big risk to take.

I could never figure out what drove me to desire getting caught by Mom in her underwear. One would think I would be thrilled to just get away with it all on the sly and leave well enough alone. For some reason, the idea of having Mom see me in her underwear added an intense feeling of naughtiness that fueled the erotic element of my panty fantasy.

Doing something so bold, so shocking, so terribly naughty drove many of my masturbation fantasies and I soon began imaging Mom seeing just at that heavenly moment when I was on the edge of coming. The idea of having Mom see me at the exact moment, not just merely seeing me in her panties, actually seeing me masturbate in her panties, drove me wild.

Would I dare have the nerve to be stroking myself in her silky soft nylon panties while she walked in? It was fun to think about but I was sure having the nerve to just continue standing there as I heard her walking closer would be all the bravery I could muster. I always felt a horrible sense of shame, humiliation and repulsion after I had masturbated.

Actually, it was much more than an idea. It was a compulsion. Once mom knew, there would be no turning back. Would I regret it? What was I hoping for and what could I realistically expect? Ideally, Mom would accept my wearing her panties, even give me a pair to keep.

Of course, this seemed extremely unlikely. Was I actually hoping deep down that Mom would have a long talk with me and force me to stop? This urge was almost as driven by my desire to talk about this peculiar fetish before it drove me crazy as by my delight in being a naughty panty boy. After many failed 'trial runs' the day finally came. Mom was gone. Standing there naked in her room, in front of the mirror- in front of her panty drawer waiting for the sensual feel of nylon on my smooth skin drove me onward.

These were a little silkier than the others and made me feel so wonderfully aroused. I slid into them and instantly felt my slender penis tingle with delight. I ran into my room and began rehearsing what would happen over and over. What would Mom say? What would I say back? Would she be mad? I began playing all of the possibilities over in my head. After standing in my room for around two hours I heard Mom come home. I froze in terror!

Pantied by mom

Pantied by mom