Fun alone with James Pt. 03

I spent a lot of time at home lately. Not because I was a shut-in. I just liked being there more than going out. Nights that used to feel empty didn't anymore. James had started staying over once or twice a week and coming by most other days. We'd grown up together--same schools, same classes, same failed attempts with the same girls--but that wasn't why he was around so much now.

We had a shared interest. My mom was a MILF, and watching him want her turned me on almost as much as looking at her myself. She kept her body tight with daily Pilates and yoga, long legs, a narrow waist that flared into full hips. Fair olive skin that darkened in the summer and was paler the rest of the year. Thick, wavy brown hair with caramel streaks that fell past her shoulders. When she wore a thin tank top, the fabric clung just enough that you could see the soft weight of her tits and the faint outline of her nipples.

We'd stopped being shy about our mutual interest in her after several more apprehensive nights. No more awkward hesitation. Now I woke up to texts like this.

James: I love ur mom's tits. Just jerked off to her Instagram.

Naturally, I asked which. He sent a photo of his TV instead. I'd taught him how to cast his shitty computer to the screen. My mom was on it in a white tank top, nipples faintly visible through the fabric. In the corner of the shot I could see James's hand wrapped around his still-hard cock and a used tissue beside him.

"That was a cold day," I replied. "Looks like ur not done."

James: Oops. Sorry. No I'm not.

"It's fine. I'll join u."

I followed it up with a picture of my own. I hadn't sent this kind of thing before but he couldn't be mad he flashed me first. A minute later I sent him a picture of my mom's cheetah-print panties wrapped around my dick. He hadn't seen anything like that from me before, but he'd started it.

James: Fuck, dude. When did u find those?

"Last night. She went out with some work friends, played pickleball. Came home too tired to finish laundry. Put a load in the washer and just left it."

James: They smell good, don't they?

"Come over. I'll let u see."

James: Now? Isn't it early?

"She's about to leave for work. If she's still here, just say we're meeting the guys for breakfast."

I called him ten minutes later, once she was gone. He came straight to my room. My hands shook a little when I handed him the panties. He took them without hesitation and said, "Good job."

He pressed them to his face and inhaled slowly. I watched his eyes go half-lidded. The center of the fabric was still slightly damp from yesterday. He made a low sound in his throat and shoved his shorts down with his free hand. I undid my own pants, already hard, but I didn't touch myself yet. I wanted to watch him first.

He dragged the wet patch across his lips, then lower, smearing it along the head of his cock while he stroked. His breathing turned ragged fast. The smell of her filled the small space between us. He sped up, grunting, hips twitching. He came before I expected him to--thick pulses that mostly missed me. A little landed on my forearm. He hadn't finished that quickly in any of our sessions before.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he said, still catching his breath.

I wasn't mad. Annoyed, maybe. He cleaned up, then handed the panties back. "What did you think?"

"Better than I hoped," he said. "Your mom's pussy smells so good. I kept thinking about her thighs around my ears."

I pictured it while I finally started stroking. Her long, toned legs pale against his skin. Straddling his face, feet arched into the mattress, thighs tight around his head. I pictured his tongue flicking up and down her clit then making tiny circles. Sucking it like a nipple. Rhythmically without losing suction, till it was incredibly sensitive.

Ugh, I grunted and I came too.

After laughing and hanging out for a while we got hungry and actually did go get breakfast. An hour later, we came back; we still had the house for to ourselves. We lit up and I tossed her underwear back in the washer so they wouldn't go missing. Then suggested we very carefully go have a peek through her things.

My mom and stepdad have a pretty big room. Modernly designed to look rustic which I never understood. We snooped through drawers until we started to find what we came for. Her underwear drawer became a photo shoot. snapping pictures of particular bras and panties we liked. James talked about looking for her lingerie but got distracted once he got to the back of the drawer. Beneath a red thong was a purple vibrator. It was curved and had a second piece coming off the main part for clitoral stimulation.

My mom and stepdad's room was big and styled in that modern-rustic way I never understood. We went through drawers until we reached her underwear. It turned into a quiet photo session--bras and panties we liked, pictures taken from different angles. James muttered something about looking for lingerie, then stopped when he reached the back of the drawer. Under a red thong sat a purple vibrator. Curved, with a smaller arm for her clit.

He was already tasting the side of it and pulling himself out again. He made a sound between a moan and a hum, then looked at me. "Here. Have a taste."

I opened my mouth to answer. He took it as permission and pushed the tip between my lips. It was still faintly warm. The taste was light but clear--clean, a little musky, unmistakably her. My stomach flipped. Part of me wanted to pull back. The rest of me stayed still and let him watch while I tasted her. My cock throbbed hard enough that it almost hurt. I pulled the toy out a moment later, lips still slick, and we left the room.

We stretched out on my bed with the pictures up on the TV, the vibrator lying between us. She looked good in all of them. Selfies with full pink lips and bright eyes. Hiking in tight athletic pants and a pink sports bra. A summer barbecue by the pool in tiny distressed denim shorts and a white bikini top that made it impossible not to stare. The tops of her breasts were reddened from the sun. Her matching set of nails was cherry red. Her feet looked so sexy with those cherry-bombshell against white thong sandals.

"What do you think of that outfit?" I asked.

James didn't look away from the screen. "Bet he bent her over the bathroom counter still in those shorts while everyone was eating."

I stroked myself a little harder. "How?"

"Get her upstairs. Smack her ass on the way. It's toned enough it'd make a good sound, not too hard, just enough to grab at the end."

I could see it. Her sandals clicking on the stairs, a short, surprised laugh after the spank, the way her ass would flex under his hand.

"As we're in the room, I'd turn her around," James continued. "I thought about the times I'd seen her make a doe eye submissive looks at Tom when she was trying to get her way by being flirty. Her eyes unblinking and big. Lashes full, lips slightly parted and moist from a quick lick."

At some point, I had started glancing between him, stroking his cock and her photo.

I started to see her head bobbing up and down in place of his hand. Would she open her mouth for him? Warm his cock with her tongue and mouth. She's always been very friendly with James. My hand slowed on my cock while I watched James stroke and looked at the photo at the same time.

"Then I'd have her take the bikini off and push her tits together," he said.

I pictured them slick from his cock sliding between them, pink nipples tight, his cock flushed and wet from her. Tiny veins standing out across her chest before being sprayed with James white runny cum. On the bed I grunted and came across my stomach. James was close too. He picked up the vibrator with his left hand and aimed with his right, coating the toy in thick pulses. The sight pulled another weak spurt out of me.

"That was intense," he said.

I laughed, still catching my breath. "I can't believe you came on her toy."

"Wasn't planning on it. Then I started thinking about watching her use it."

I didn't argue. The idea sat heavy in my head.

We were still lying there when we heard the TV turn on upstairs. "Fuck. Mom's home."

James stuffed the vibrator into his back pocket under his shirt. We cracked the door. The hall was clear. He slipped back into her room while I went downstairs to run interference.

"Hey, Mom."

She turned, smiling. "Oh, hi, sweetie. I didn't know you were home."

"Yeah. How was your day?"

"Good. Just home for lunch. Thanks for asking." She glanced toward the stairs when the toilet flushed. "Someone with you?"

"Just James. We were playing Madden."

"That's fun. You boys hungry? I can make something."

"We're good. Ate a late breakfast."

James came down a minute later. She smiled at him. "Hello, James. You scared me. I thought my son might've snuck a girl in while I was gone."

"Haha, no, Mrs. C. No girls here."

She raised an eyebrow, mock-offended. "Excuse me. I'm a girl."

"You're a woman," he said. "There's a difference."

"And what's that?"

He looked at me for help. I stayed quiet. She kept going, clearly enjoying it. "Because I'm a mom?

"No."

Because I'm old?" Keep digging that hole, I thought.

"No way."

"Sounds like you're calling me an old lady."

I finally cut in out of pity. "He meant you're beautiful. A girl is just cute. A woman is beautiful."

She looked back at James. "Is that right? I'm beautiful?"

"Yes," he said, easy and confident.

"Well, thank you. You're a handsome young man yourself."

That caught me off guard. We let her eat and walked outside so James could leave.

"Everything put back how it was?" I asked.

"Yeah. Took pictures the whole time so I could match it."

"Smart. Flushed the toilet too. Good cover. I didn't know how to explain why you were still upstairs. What about the vibrator?"

"Put it back. Didn't wipe all of it off."

"What?"

"Relax. Got most of it. Left a little to dry."

"Why?"

"She won't notice by the time she uses it. And think about it--next time your mom puts that thing inside her, she's putting my cum in there too."

The thought hit harder than I expected. My stomach tightened. I wanted to get back inside.

"You like that?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I knew you would. How much do you like it?" he asked.

"A lot." I husked.

We were quiet for a second. Then he said, "Think you could bring me a pair of her panties? "To keep?"

"Yeah."

"She might notice."

"Nah. You saw how many she has. She won't."

"I'll try."

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Nice. Thanks."

The weight of it stayed there. I felt turned on and a little degraded. It was different from letting him share in something with me. This was different. He wasn't bullying me and he did ask not demand, it. But regardless, he just said, "Hey, bring me your mom's panties."

And I said yes.