But as she thought about it longer, a strange feeling came over her. A feeling of depraved excitement she had never felt before, at least not when thinking about her sixteen year old son, Timmy.

Why, he must be checking out my bod, she told herself. Looking at me and thinking naughty thoughts. I wonder if he thinks I'm sexy? He must, she crazily thought. That or he's gay because I try to make sure that I look sexy. With those crude thoughts running through her head, she took another sip of her bourbon and water.

He must be thinking me as a woman, she told herself as the warm glow of the alcohol spread out from her tummy. Not as his mother, she surmised as she shifted her body and watched her big, round tits wriggle heavily under the thin material of her bikini top.

But Timmy, my baby, how could you be thinking about your dear, old Mom like that, she silently asked the boy hiding behind the blinds?

Well, the fact that he is sixteen. And all sixteen-year-old boys were walking, talking testosterone-making machines, she told herself might have something to do with it. I guess I should be more careful. Why, I'm always parading around in front of him half-naked all the time. I hardly ever wear anything but panties and a sports bra around the house. I bet just seeing me like that must be driving him crazy. And now here I am out sitting by the pool in a bikini that would make a blind man blush.

But even as she was scolding herself for not being more discrete, she felt a peculiar sense of narcissistic pride. Even nearing forty, she still turned heads wherever she went. So why should her son react any different? He was a definitely becoming a man after all. While she found the whole idea of her son secretly watching her somewhat discomforting on the one hand, she also found it perversely flattering and lewdly exciting on the other hand. Especially after her third drink of the day.

I wonder what he is doing while he's watching me, she asked herself? Was he banging his twanger, she wickedly thought? The thought of her son sitting behind the blinds jacking off while he watched her sent a perverse shiver of wicked stimulation shooting down her spine and into her pussy where it exploded with a fiery gush of arousal.

My God, what is happening to me, she wondered as the familiar warm glow of sexual longing spread out from her pussy and enveloped her whole body?

Am I going crazy?

This can't be happening. Not to me. No, not to me. Not because of Timmy. Not because of my baby, Timmy. But even as sick and twisted as it was, she couldn't stop the disturbing sensation down inside her pussy that was overriding the moralistic beatitudes of her conscience.

Then with a lecherous smile on her lips, she slowly lifted her hands up to the sloping swell of her breasts. It was as if her hands were acting on their own volition as she saw her finger pluck and pick at the material of her bikini top. Then, all at once, she pulled down on the cloth and both of her big, beautiful breasts spilled out into the open.

What are you doing, you crazy bitch, she crazily asked herself? You dumb moron, she berated herself. Then, she ran her fingers over the soft, smooth skin of her breasts down to both big, bulging nipples. Gently, erotically, she fingered the swollen knobs of flesh for a few seconds before she let her hands drop down beside her side once again. As she sat back and smiled again, she watched the window of her son's room and saw the blinds jiggle tellingly once again. ......(cont)