I admit that the sight of my mom fingering herself to orgasm was pretty distracting at school that day. I ended up jerking off twice in the restroom. As the time to head home drew closer, though, I began to feel nervous. Certainly Mom would confront me when I got home. She couldn't have not seen me, right? I mean, I don't think she did, but she knew I was there, right? I had no idea what to expect as I opened the front door.

Mom was in the living room, watching TV and drinking a cup of coffee. She asked how school had been, just like she always did. She asked about dinner, and would I mind leftovers. I tried so hard not to stare at her chest. I answered her questions but thought I must sound weird. My throat was tight and dry. Excusing myself, I went to the bathroom and yanked off a quick load. Then I went to my bedroom and somehow got my homework finished.

She didn't know. She hadn't seen me. That was good. Very good. I could relax.

The next morning, I went to the bathroom to shower as usual. My parents' bedroom door was slightly ajar (had it always been like that in the morning?) but I could hear Mom saying goodbye to Dad in the kitchen. After my shower, I headed back to my bedroom. Once again, I could see Mom, with her back to me, in her room. She again was topless and I watched in amazement at how her tits bounced and jiggled as moved around the room. Once again, she slipped a hand into her panties as she sat in the chair by her dressing table and got herself off.

I slipped into my room, shut my door, and blew a massive load onto my bath towel, groaning as I imagined Mom was with me. As I started to get dressed, I heard her leave her room and head out to the living room. My departure for school was uneventful but my imagination was running in overdrive.

***************

This routine continued for a few weeks, except for the weekends, of course, when Dad was around. I would get in the shower about the time that Dad was leaving for work. When I was finished, I'd walk down the hall to my parents' room and stand by the slightly open door. After watching Mom walk around topless for awhile and get herself off, I'd go to my room and jerk off to what I'd just seen. Then there was a change. One morning, after I'd shot a load onto my sheets, I noticed that my door was open, just a bit. I was sure that I'd closed it but I figured that in my haste I'd failed to latch it. The next morning, I made sure it was secured. Yet, as I was going about my business, I definitely saw the door open just a crack. And, unmistakably, I could see Mom standing on the other side.

So she did know. And she wanted to see me too. The very thought caused my dick to explode, cum shooting in to the air and running down my hand. When I opened my eyes again, and looked to the doorway, Mom was gone. Yet, when I went out to say goodbye to her, there was no change in her demeanor. She smiled, but in the usual mother kind of way. So, we were going to play this as if it wasn't happening? I figured that was okay, as long as it kept happening.

And it did. From then on, the mornings involved me watching her walk around her bedroom topless and then masturbating, followed by me masturbating on my bed while she watched. I no longer bothered to wear a towel. I just stood naked in the hall as I watched. I got a bit bolder over the next several weeks. Sometimes I'd audibly moan "Oh, Mom!" as I came, knowing she could hear me. Sometimes, I'd mount my pillow and fuck it as I pretended it was her. And through it all, she watched, almost always fingering herself to another orgasm as she watched me. There was no overt admission by either of us as to what was happening but it did seem we smiled more around each other. Things were good.

****************

Who knows how long it would have gone on that way? I was a virgin and had only the most casual of a girlfriend. I was learning to control my orgasm better than most guys my age, mostly because I didn't want to cum on the carpet while I watched Mom. I guess Mom liked what she saw but never a word was spoken about it, and I sure as Hell wasn't going to bring it up and spoil everything.

I remember the day it all changed - May 7. It started out in the morning as usual. Outside, it was raining hard. I stood at Mom's door, watching her rub lotion on her tits. I was working my dick, trying to hold back my load. She was making me crazy, though. Suddenly, lightning struck just outside the house. The noise was deafening and both Mom and I were startled by it. In that moment, we inadvertently looked right into each other's eyes. There was no denying now that we both knew what was going on. I ran for my room. Throwing on clothes for school, I shoved my half-erect cock into my pants, and bolted out into the hallway. As I ran past my parents' room, the door was shut. I didn't see Mom in the living room or kitchen so I figured she was still in her room. I took off for the bus stop, holding my backpack over my head to try and keep the rain off of me. At that point, I would have welcomed another bolt of lightning.

When I got home, it was clear that things had changed. Mom spoke to me normally but without really looking at me. I caught her glancing at me but then looking away. I found myself doing the same. Over the next few days, there were no more morning sessions. Things were getting tense, even to the point that Dad asked me if I knew what was wrong with Mom. Of course, I played stupid. Mom, however, was getting a bit more direct. When she was talking to me about one thing, she would stare into my eyes, like she wanted to talk about what had happened. She seemed to want me to bring it up. Both of us were frustrated, but I didn't know what to do about it.

Finally, Mom came into my room as I was getting ready for bed one night. She said, "Are you ashamed of me?"

I answered, "God, no, Mom."

"Are you ashamed of yourself?" she asked.

I paused for just a second, if even that. "No," I said, "I'm not."

Mom held my gaze for a long moment. "No, I can see you're not."

I asked, "Are you ashamed of ... us?"

She smiled. It was a warm, loving smile, so much different from the past few days. "No, not at all. The only shameful thing is that ... things ... ended as they did."

I thought about asking if we could start over, but still, I wasn't sure.

Mom nodded slightly, although I'm not sure she realized that she had. "Tomorrow, I want you to get up early, in time to eat breakfast with your father."

"Umm, okay," I responded.

She placed her hands on her hips, as she does when she is finished with a topic. "Good. Now get to sleep."

After she left, I jerked off to her - again - and tried to sleep, but it wasn't easy.