Domestic Espionage

I don't know if I see myself as a member of Q branch from James Bond but I love tech, in all of it's formats. Phones, smart watches, digital SLR cameras, audio equipment, you name it, I've either tried it out or have some. So obsessed with it all am I, that although I've no formal qualifications, after leaving school I got a job in a store selling electrical components. I was like a sponge. I soaked up knowledge from the people I worked with. I watched fascinated as they built up things for customer orders. Amplifiers, microphones, speakers, there didn't seem to be any limit to what they could make. Over time, I managed it too. For a tech geek, it is the perfect job.

Tech isn't my only obsession. In common with most, if not all young men, sex is something I'm equally passionate about. However, my personality is never going to make me that popular with the ladies. Having the nickname of Specky isn't going to help. I've worn glasses since I was about ten years old. I'm a little self conscious about it. I've tried all sorts of frames, hoping to change my image. I even tried contacts but didn't get on with them. So, despite my interest, no, it's more than an interest, approaching twenty one I'm still a virgin living at home.

Home is just me and mum. Mum and dad divorced when I was fourteen. It wasn't as bad as it was for some of my friends. No fights, just coming to the conclusion that they'd be better off going their separate ways. Dad paid maintenance, until I left school and I still see him several times a year. He's settled and planning to marry again. Mum got a part time job and it helped when I began bringing in some cash.

I have no luck with women, not that I've given up trying but constant rejection takes its toll. I turned my focus inward. I can't be the only young man who develops a fascination with with his own mother. I'm sure I won't be the last. At least she'll talk to me, without saying get lost four eyes.

These days, 42 isn't old, it's barely middle aged. Unlike dad, she doesn't seem to have found anyone else after the divorce. I don't know if that was a choice or it was just the way things worked out. If she's anything like me at all, she'd want some form of sexual satisfaction. I get mine wanking while I watch porn. That's when my two passions came together. No, not wanking to porn. Sex and gadgets. I was scanning one particular website for a bit of relief, when I stumbled across some videos, taken on hidden cameras. I've no idea if the videos were really covert or a set up but it was a lightbulb moment for me.

Using my staff discount I began collecting what to anyone, even the other staff, would look like a random set of components. I don't know if it made sense spreading the purchases out over a long period but it took nearly three months to get everything I needed.

Mum rarely if ever goes into the garage. It hasn't had a car in it all the time we've lived here. Mostly it is full of old furniture and boxes of things that we should have got rid of. In the back corner is an old dining table, which I set up as my work bench. Not much required, a few watchmakers screwdrivers and a soldering iron. It only took a couple of days to make everything I needed. For some reason, I repeatedly looked over my shoulder as I was working. Mum wouldn't have had a clue what I was doing, even if she saw me but even so, I felt I needed to keep it secret.

I had to wait nearly a week to deploy my inventions. It's rare for mum to be at work when I'm home, it only happens occasionally. I had a day off on Saturday, for covering a double shift earlier in the week. I left a reasonable time before setting to work. Just to make sure she hadn't forgotten something and would come back. I watched the clock for nearly an hour. Only two locations to set up, the bathroom and mum's room.

The bathroom wasn't that difficult. Taking down the light fitting, modifying it slightly and putting it back gave a good view of the bathtub and the shower screen at one end. The bedroom was a lot more difficult. As well as being forbidden territory. The light fitting didn't give a view of the bed. Although, what I'd built was small, keeping it hidden wouldn't be easy. I tried several things before I found the solution. A knot hole in the decorative bit on top of the wardrobe. Just big enough and with a stack of Blu-tac I managed to fix it in place. A quick test on my laptop, pictures fine. I couldn't test for sound. Then a thought, I put my DAB radio in each room. Sound all good. The tech would run on its own. So I left it. Seven days before it overwrote the previous footage but I had the option to save it.

Mum got in from work and as usual took a shower before dinner. I wanted to rush up and watch but thought it best to stay downstairs watching TV. The anticipation would almost be felt as we ate dinner and watched TV as we always did. At bedtime, I watched the footage back.

Mum had undressed in her bedroom, with her back to the camera. I got a brief view of her bum before she wrapped herself in a towel. I didn't get to see much more from the bathroom. A similar view of her back and bum while she waited for the shower to get up to temperature. An all too brief view of her boobs, nipples and a dark pubic triangle, before the lens of the camera steamed up. A somewhat hazy view of her drying. Moving back to the bedroom a much better view. Watching her applying moisturising lotion to her whole body, looked amazing. She took her time and even stood looking at herself in the mirror on the outside of the wardrobe door. I couldn't help rewinding that bit had having a wank. It wasn't until I'd cum that the wave of guilt hit me.

I continued to feel guilty every day as I came, watching the shower and getting ready for bed footage. She slept in big baggy T shirts rather than nightdresses. I'd hoped to see and hear more than just nakedness.

I had to wait until one Sunday morning for that. Again, a little disappointing. The duvet rustling and moving where her boobs and pussy would have been. The sound just rustling until she apparently had an orgasm. Even then just a loud exhale of her breath.

She didn't seem to need it as often as I did. A couple of times a week in bed like I'd seen on that Sunday. It looked like she might also be doing it stood in the shower but the steamed up camera and sound of the water disguised it so much, that I wasn't sure.

My covert surveillance operation had started just after my birthday, at the end of August. The pattern I'd seen so far continued until late in October. Mum always turned on the central heating on her birthday, the 24th. I thought that she just started to feel the cold as they seasons went on. However, it meant a signifiant change, within the view of both cameras.

Instead of a shower, mum prefers a bath as the weather cools. Initially, my view was even worse. However, as she soaked, the camera lens gradually cleared. I got to see her naked body in the water. Watching her soap up was as good as seeing the body lotion routine. On the third day of this new routine, I watched in amazement as she masturbated. She seems to like playing with her nipples. I could hear the water rapidly sploshing as she fingered her pussy. I think she made more than a breathy sound as she came but the splashing covered it a bit.

The impact of the central heating went beyond a change in washing habits. She would spend more time naked in her room. Sitting on the edge of the bed to dry her hair. She'd do her moisturising, then sit back on the bed checking her phone. All without putting on her T shirt. That was the last thing, before she turned off the light and went to sleep. Things were looking up. At least for a mummy obsessed tech geek. She might only be masturbating two or three times a week but I was doing it that many times every day.

My world was rocked and my cock rock hard, on a Sunday in mid November. I'd been up early and went for a jog. I will shower after I've been running, although I normally use the bath after mum has finished, in the evenings. Clean, I went to check the footage, mum had still been in bed when I went out. I'd never seen anything to match it.

Unlike her hands shuffling under the duvet, This morning she threw back the covers. It all started off like I'd seen her do it in the bath, massaging her breasts and nipples before she began rubbing and fingering her pussy. The view was incredible, right up her body and a good view of her pussy. After about ten minutes she shoved her hand under one of the pillows and pulled out a vibrator. She did something to the base, which resulted in a low level humming sound. My jaw almost hit the table as she parted her pussy lips and inserted the device. At first she just worked it slowly in and out. As her pace increased she was rubbing a couple of fingers over he clit. No more than a couple of minutes of ramming her pussy and she came. The sound more than anything I'd heard to that point. Like a cross between choking and gargling. She lay there, with the vibrator still inside her, jerking and twitching for a couple of minutes.

What happened afterwards, was even more shocking than what I'd already seen. She slowly pulled out the vibrator, turned it off and put it in her mouth, before shoving it back under the pillow. If I'd been stunned up to now, what happened next almost gave me a heart attack. She got off the bed, walked up to the wardrobe as I'd seen her do so many times. Instead of looking at herself she looked right into the camera and blew a kiss. It was followed by her using a wanking motion with her right hand. She turned, waggled her bum at the camera and got dressed.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. I'm screwed. I turned off the screen. I'd cum watching her masturbate, my cum caught in an old sock. It was still resting on my thigh. I covered up and dropped the sock into the laundry hamper along with its pair. I stayed in my room. I had visions of never emerging again.

At lunchtime mum shouted up, that food was ready. I'd wanted to stay hidden. She shouted again and I went downstairs. We ate lunch and it was just like every other Sunday. She asked me about my morning run and wanted to know which film we would watch that afternoon. It's a bit of a tradition. We watch a film and eat popcorn. Not most peoples idea of the perfect Sunday afternoon but it's just what we do. OK, so maybe mum was just going to ignore it. She knew about the camera but said nothing. That was, until we were half way through the first Star Wars film.

"Got them hidden anywhere else?"

I stayed quiet, eyes on the TV screen.

"I do dust and clean you know. I'd have found it eventually."

"Just the bathroom."

"Please tell me it isn't in the toilet bowl."

"Light fitting." I admitted grudgingly.

"At least that's something. You know that you can talk to me, don't you? You're probably too embarrassed to say anything now. Take your time."

We just went back to watching the film. She didn't mention it again for a few days and I didn't watch. Although, the cameras would still have been recording. It felt a bit inappropriate, that as we ate breakfast on Saturday morning, before I went to work, she asked,

"Are your cameras still running?"

"I suppose so."

"Put you off your stroke, didn't I."

Whether she meant that figuratively or literally I'm not sure. She didn't wait for me to answer, she carried on,

"Poor choice of words. Look, it's fine. I do it, you do it. I was a little shocked to find out you were watching. I suppose that makes me a porn star. Seen anything good lately?"

"I've stopped watching."

"So, I've been wasting my time."

"What?"

She just smiled and cleaned away the breakfast things. I went to work, wondering what I'd missed and whether I should actually watch it. Back home we ate dinner mum had her bath and I did too. We watched a bit of TV before it was time for bed. My laptop was in the corner. It was calling out to me. I resisted but only for half an hour.

I scanned through the recordings as fast as it would go, only stopping when I saw a figure appear. I must have stayed awake for hours. No longer covert, mum played to the camera like a pro. She stripped in the bedroom, rather than just undressing. On occasion she even wore sexy underwear, instead of her normal cotton stuff. I watched as she masturbated in the bath, as well as sat on the edge of it, facing the camera. There was a repeat of the vibrator masturbation, minus her gestures to the camera. She even did it bent over with her bum facing the camera. The last I saw before I turned off, was mum holding up about six vibrators, in both hands, towards the camera. In a, this is what's to come fashion. It only occurred to me afterwards that her orgasms were getting louder. I don't know if she was faking it. It didn't look or sound like it. Just letting herself go, now that I knew what she'd been doing.

There wasn't any way of avoiding the atmosphere in the morning. She seemed eager to know what I thought. I was left wondering, what the hell have I done? She's a better talker than me but then most people are. She wanted to clear the air.

"I was really angry, when I found that thing. Why would you do it? I love you but it felt like a dishonest thing to do. If you were that desperate, you could have talked to me but I know you. You'd never do that. I've a feeling you'll be tied to my apron strings for a while. I know you have needs. I was just surprised at you satisfying them with me. Now I'm satisfying mine, knowing you are watching."

"Mmm."

"Is that it? Let me make it clear. Watching through your cameras is as far as it goes. I don't do requests. I do what I want to do. If you like if, fine. If you don't that's too bad."

"Really?"

"Really. I haven't enjoyed it this much in ages. I stopped bothering for a while."

From that point on, things developed so quickly I could barely keep up. I may be tied to mum's apron strings but every spare moment was spent glued to my screen. What I've seen since that point is almost mind blowing. It began with mum laying a towel on the end of the bed. She spread her legs wider than anything I'd seen to that point and wider than they needed to be. She took up a pair of scissors and began snipping at her pubic hair. She'd pause occasionally, to check progress using my grandmother's antique silver hand mirror. That seemed to give her a certain level of satisfaction. Trimmed back to almost nothing, she ran her hands between her legs, to appreciate the feeling. She got up, carefully picking up the towel and moving out of view.

Judging by what came became her custom, she must have masturbated as much as I do, when she was younger. Her twice or three times a week became a daily occurrence. Up to this point, she'd had a single orgasm before stopping. It was as though it was just enough to scratch the itch and keep it under control. Now it was different. Not just keeping the feelings at bay but fully embracing them.

She'd masturbate, always within the space covered by the camera and never under the bedclothes. Not just that, one orgasm never seemed to be enough. Two three and even four not always sufficient. Each one producing ever louder sounds and more extreme body movements. Her vibrators had been a rare diversion. Now they became a regular feature and not just on their own.

One Sunday afternoon, I was scanning back over the footage after my jog, shower and lunch. What I saw almost set me off in a convulsive fit. On the bed beside her, it looked like all six of her vibrators. I will say here that none of them are large, certainly smaller than an average cock. All of them slim and smooth, in different colours and probably different materials. It may seem odd, that I've never searched for them but apart from setting up the camera, I've never been back to her room. Anyway, mum was laid on the bed, legs spread and fingering her pussy and tweaking her nipples. Her usual appetiser. She always seems to reach the same point before picking up a toy. Today was no different to begin with. However, the vibrator was soon joined by a second. My eyes must have been on stalks and my cock was already hard in my hand. She just held them there, no fucking.

As if I wasn't shocked enough, she picked up a third. I'm certain that her intention was to slide it in beside the other two. I never found out. It appeared that inadvertently, it had made contact with her clit. There was an ear slitting scream. One, then the other vibrator were squeezed from her pussy. The third, gripped hard in her fist was jerked away from her body. I'd cum, shooting my load all over the leg of my trousers. On the screen mum's body continued to tremble for what seemed like ages. Her breathing at first sharp and ragged, calming as time went on. Usually, she'd suck the toy when she'd finished with it. I'm certain that was for my benefit, not hers. However, today she just wiped them and put them in the drawer by the bed. At a guess, she'd shocked herself as much as she had me. That had to have been when I was out jogging, or I'd certainly have heard her.

I changed my trousers and went downstairs for our film and popcorn session. My face must have been red and flushed. I think I still had sweat on my brow. She must have known what I'd just seen. All she said was,

"Over ambitious."

It might seem strange knowing what we did about each other, that the specifics were never mentioned. We never talked about how she looked, amazing in case you are interested, how she masturbated, how often she came or what each felt like. Similarly, there was no mention of what I did, while I watched her. There was a tacit understanding that we were aware but that was all. Nor was there any suggestion that I watch her in person. It was as if the cameras provided a veneer of anonymity. The mum captured by the lens wasn't the same one who cooked my meals, did my laundry and who I watched movies with.

I may have started this as a covert surveillance operation, it has since gone way beyond that. I kicked it off but it is my mother who is moving it to the next level. After the film finished, she asked if it was possible to run some more cameras and for her to have access to the footage. The last part was easy. The former would take some work. It would mean twice as many camera's as I'd already put together. I told my work colleagues that I was making security systems for a friend. Whether they believed me, I don't know. I soon had four new cameras. Mum dictated their locations. The top of the sideboard in the dining room, looking down at the table. Behind an ornament in the lounge, aimed at the coffee table and sofa. The last two made me turn my nose up but I couldn't refuse. On top of a kitchen cupboard looking down on the worktop over the washing machine and worst of all, my room aimed at the table where I have my laptop.

OK, in some ways it was a security system for us. CCTV covering most of the house. In our particular case it had turned the house into an exhibitionist and voyeur's pleasure palace.

At first I was really worried about what would be captured on the camera in my room. She wouldn't have seen much for the first few times. As time progressed, I almost forgot that the camera was there. I'd have her on my screen as she had me on hers.

She continued to push the three vibrator attempts. Always on a Sunday morning when I was out. I began jogging slightly further to give her more time. Half a dozen attempts ended like the first. She didn't seem to mind. Even the failed attempts produced astounding results. Not just for her. When I came it was like a fountain. I hope she liked it. She did finally manage it. The look on her face was hard to describe. A mixture of, look at me, aren't I great and Oh my god, I can't hold it. Her back arched a couple of seconds after she got the third one in. All three were ejected together. The view of her gaping and pulsing pussy was so amazing, I had to rewind it over and over again.

I really have no words to describe what we do. Is it incest? No, not really. I've never even seen her naked, other than on the screen. Less still have either of us any intention of having sex. Unless that is, you count the two of us masturbating in separate rooms. That and more must go on in households and families all over the world. The only difference is that we can see it, if we want to and we do almost constantly. The fact that we don't talk about it, makes it all the more interesting, almost mysterious. Mum's re-ignited and expanded sex drive means that any thoughts she had of finding another man, seem to have been subverted. I'm so obsessed with what we do, that I've even stopped looking elsewhere, for now.