Linda’s discovery – part 1

I held them to my face and could still smell myself on them. Oh, god. If I could still smell myself, of course he could too. I then stuck my tongue out and flicked it across the crotch like I imagined he might have done. When I did, I knew there was the faintest taste of my pussy on them. A tingling coursed through me and my nipples hardened. I started to visualize him with my panties as close to his face as they were to mine at the moment.

As if it was disconnected from me and had a mind of its own, my hand holding the panties reached under my shirt and I began to rub them against my breasts. Had these panties been rubbing his cock and now the same panties were rubbing my nipples? I began to rub harder and used my fingers to pull on my nipples, tugging at them, pinching them. I lowered myself in the chair and – as if it were some other person making the noise – began to moan. What the hell was I doing thinking about this? My own son? His cock?

But I was too far gone to stop now. I put my wine down and reached inside my shorts, running a finger over the underwear I was wearing. I was soaking wet. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. I was fantasizing about my own son tasting my panties while he jerked himself off. And now, as I tasted them, I put a finger in my own pussy. I rubbed my dirty panties around my lips, believing that maybe I could taste his juices on them like he had with mine. The smell of my womanly scent was thick in my nostrils and it made me even hornier, as if the smell of sex was truly in the air.

My finger now rubbing my clit furiously, I pulled my other hand away from my face and grabbed my nipple and pulled and twisted. I began to plunge a finger, then two in and out of my soaking pussy. Geez, I was already about to cum. Every muscle in my legs tightened, my back arched, I heard myself moan Mark’s name, and I came. Oh my god – I just had an orgasm while thinking about my own son! I had even called out his name!

As I slowly came back to earth I began to ponder what I was going to say… or do. Do I confront him? Do I ignore it? Maybe all boys go through this. At the moment I was too spent to think rationally. I decided to think about it the next day when I wasn’t thinking in the afterglow of one of the most intense orgasms I had experienced in quite a while. I had another glass of wine (this is way more than I usually drink – but I thought it was justified that night) and went to bed before he came home.

As I went to sleep that night I could feel that the panties I had been wearing were still a little wet from my earlier actions, but now I didn’t care. Tomorrow would be another day and I would figure it out.

The next day was another glorious Saturday. I was a little groggy from the previous evenings wine but pulled myself out of bed and started the coffee again. As my head began to clear, I remembered why I had felt compelled to drink more than usual that night and began to think again about how to handle the fact that Mark was taking my panties. Before I could come up with a plan he came bounding down the stairs.

“Well good morning gorgeous,” he chirped as he came over and hugged me from behind. Was I imagining that I could feel his forearm brush against the underside of my breasts as he gave me a quick but firm hug?

“Hi honey. You are certainly in a good mood this morning,” I smiled.

As I turned around he still held me in his arms but I could now see that he was shirtless and had on only his bathing suit. I was hoping he didn’t notice my nipples getting hard under my t-shirt as I stared at his muscular chest.

“Are you going to lay out by the pool today?” I wondered as I moved out of his embrace before he could catch me blushing.

“Nah. Tom and I decided last night that we are going to take his dad’s boat out on the lake today. You know, one more fling before I have to head back to school next week,” he replied. “Sorry. No time for breakfast this morning. Gotta run.”

He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, grabbed his flip flops, shirt, and keys and with that he was out the door for the day.

I made myself some toast and pulled a yogurt cup from the refrigerator and took it outside to enjoy in the morning air. It was there that the light bulb went on. I quickly came inside, threw on a pair of shorts, a bra, and a nicer t-shirt and called Tom’s mother, Anne.

Anne (sometimes I called her Annie) was one of my nearby neighbors and best friends. We had gotten to know each other when the boys were in grade school and we would do volunteer work at the school together. We were both single moms now and – while the boys had gone off to different schools – both she and I as well as Tom and Mark had remained very close. I could confide in her – and she in me without any judgment or hidden agendas.

“You’re up early for a Saturday,” she answered the phone without bothering to say hello.

“Yeah. Had a little too much wine last night and fell asleep early,” I answered. “Are you busy? Why don’t you pop over and have a cup of coffee with me?”

“That sounds good. Be right there,” she chirped. Anne and Tom lived across the street one house down from us and within 5 minutes she was walking through the back door with her mug in hand.

“Sounds like the boys have a big day planned,” she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “Did Mark tell you that they met some girls at the game last night that they were taking to the lake?”

I laughed. “No. I guess he was in too big of a hurry to mention that.”

She laughed too. “Tom didn’t tell me much about them, except that they were older and that they were ‘hot’. I’m guessing that the lake was their idea so that they could see them in their bikinis,” she smiled.

“Speaking of bikinis,” I started, “I think I discovered something that I’m a little confused about. Our boys are so much alike, I thought that maybe you could give me some advice.”

Anne looked up from the newspaper she was casually eyeing while I was talking and put her mug down. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Well, I think Mark has been taking my panties from the hamper and… well… ‘using’ them,” I blushed. “Have you ever noticed Tom doing anything like that?”

Anne smiled and gave a short laugh. Not in a mean way – but rather, in a way that said she knew exactly what I was talking about.

“You’re just now figuring this out?” she asked. “I know Tom has been doing it since he was in high school and I would bet that Mark has been doing it for just as long. You know how close the two of them are. If one of them is doing anything, I usually assume the other is in on it as well.”

I was a little taken back by her casualness. “So… when you figured it out… what did you say? Or do?”

Anne gave that same short laugh again. “Nothing. I mean I guess I don’t see the harm. If he’s like Tom, all he is doing is ‘borrowing’ them from the hamper, masturbating, and returning them,” she calmly stated. “It’s not like he is stealing them and I have to go buy more underwear. And, I don’t know about Mark, but Tom doesn’t get them messy, if you know what I mean,” she smiled. “Ted (her ex) used to love it when I wore sexy lingerie and wanted me to keep it on when we started to have sex. I think it’s just a guy thing.”

As she was telling me this, I remembered that my ex loved sexy lingerie as well. He was always buying it for me (and his tramp girlfriend too I am sure) and loved it when I wore it to bed. He loved making me wet while I still had them on and would position himself between my legs so that he could taste my wetness through my panties. Maybe it was “just a guy thing.”

“Okay. I guess I can see that,” I said. “But, I mean, do you think it’s the panties in general? Or is it OUR panties that they are attracted to?”

At this point Anne looked at me squarely in the eye, this time there wasn’t the same light hearted response. “I’m not sure about that… and I have thought about it,” she said seriously. “But I guess my response is that they both seem to be really good kids that are pretty well adjusted so I don’t worry too much about it.”

“Also,” she added, now laughing again, “I haven’t noticed him hitting on me. So, maybe I am being naïve but I think it is just the smell and the feel and maybe the taste of the panties that they are attracted to.”

When she mentioned that Mark might be smelling and tasting my panties I blushed again.

“So… I can tell you’ve thought about that too… but I get the impression that you have a different thought?” she said when she noticed how flushed I had become.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I was thinking that Mark liked smelling ME on those panties,” I continued, looking down, unable to look at her in the eye. “I don’t know… I guess I just wondered what you thought…”

“I can relate to that,” Anne said quietly. “And from the way you are flushed, I get the sense that when you considered that you may be the object of your son’s fantasies, it turned you on? Maybe he became an object of your fantasy life?”

I was so embarrassed that all I could do was nod.

Anne got up from her chair and came over to where I was standing. She gave me a sweet, gentle hug and said “Linda, it’s okay with me if you played with yourself while fantasizing about your son. He’s a good looking young man. And, if it makes you feel any better, you’re not alone. It’s just fantasy. I don’t feel guilty, and I don’t think you should either.”

There it was. Our deepest secret that we had ever shared was out there for us to now know about each other. Without saying it, I knew that Anne had cum fantasizing about her son and she knew that I had done the same. Since she didn’t feel any guilt over it, I felt a weight had been lifted off of me and I let my guilt go as well. In fact, inside, I felt liberated that I had a new, powerful, fantasy that I could call on whenever the urge struck.

I looked up at her and we both smiled. “Thanks,” I said and gave her a hug. “This has been a big help.”

After she left, I knew that I was going to say nothing to Mark. If he liked using my panties as a source of fantasy while he masturbated, I was now okay with it. He certainly didn’t act like he was embarrassed of ashamed of his fantasies and I didn’t feel the need to make him feel any different. Besides, he had probably been doing it for years and – since he was leaving for school the following week – I only had a few more days to have to hide the secret that I knew what he was doing even though he thought he was getting away with it.