Mom’s Masturbation

I was 17, my mother was somewhere in her early 40’s. She would never tell me her exact age and to be honest, I was baffled that she was past her 30’s. We lived in a house, just the two of us. My father had left when I was younger, but it never phased me or my mom any. My relationship with my mother was an average mother-son relationship. Nothing out of the ordinary really. I would come home from school and play sports or video games, she would come home several hours later from work and would head straight to her room for the night. If I was hungry I would have to make myself something simple to eat and head to bed on my own.

Mom always went out with friends on Fridays and Saturdays. She would come home at late times when she was certain I was sleeping. She was wrong most of the time though.

It was clear to me why mom was always out so late. She was a bombshell… Her attractive aura was so massive that it had enchanted me long, long ago. There was no denying how hot my mom truly was. Early on in my life, when I had first discovered masturbation, my mom was what got me off. I just couldn’t help but fantasize about her. I often found myself judging other women based off how they compared to my mom’s looks. Not a brunette? Pffft, see ya. Not tall? Pfft, no thanks. Basically, if a woman wasn’t the spitting image of my mother, I wasn’t interested. Don’t get me wrong though, I loved checking women out. It’s just that… Mom set the bar and boy did she set it high. I could never spot another woman who was 5’11, under 150lbs, and a brunette. Well actually, I could, but then came the assets comparison. If a woman passed those first three parameters she surely would not pass the next three. Which were 34C breasts or larger, a firm round ass, and eyes like gleaming sapphire.

Somewhere around 16 years old I started to get into girls pants. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be. A smile here, a hug there… Getting girls to run the bases with me was pretty damn easy. My confidence sky rocketed because of it and along with it came plenty of bold actions.

One Friday evening, when my mother was getting ready for the night out, I had a stroke of genius. I always wanted to get a glimpse of mom naked, but the farthest I had ever gotten was seeing her breasts as she tanned by the pool. My idea was simple. Grab a high quality CD or DVD and use it as a mirror to peer under the crack of the door to my mom’s room.