Harvey came home that evening tired and out of sorts. He grumbled about his feet hurting all through the meal and, after dinner, lay don on the couch with his feet up to watch TV. He killed two six-packs of beer, and went quickly to sleep. Virginia looked distastefully at the fat slob and went to the kitchen and made herself a drink. After two, she took the bottle of vodka and went out to the patio. It was a warm night, and by nine o'clock, she was pleasantly drunk.

She was drunkenly pondering her plight when the yard light flared on in the Morrison back yard. She sat for a while staring at the slits of light piercing through the cracks in the six-foot redwood fence. Finally, her curiosity got the best of her and she went up to the fence and peered through one of the narrow cracks. Her breath caught in her throat. Chuck was standing not two feet from the fence, his cock in his hand. He was pining.

The heat rose in Virginia's cheeks and she pressed her eye to the crack. Then she stiffened; Clara had come out of the house and she was walking towards the unsuspecting boy.

"I've told you a thousand times not to do that in the yard. It kills the them," Clara said.

"Aw, Mom," he answered, but he didn't stop. He sprayed his stream back and forth across the pass, and when he finished, he shook his dick violently and then started a slow push-pull motion, making the slim rod grow in his hand.

"I've told you not to do that, too. Your father would have a fit"

"It's getting hard now, Mom. I don't want to stop," Chuck whined.

To Virginia's astonishment, Clara stepped close to her son and pushed his hand away. "Do you want Mother to do it?" she said.

"Yea," he answered quickly.

"Once you start, you shouldn't stop. It can hurt you, she said, taking his cock-shaft between two ringers. "Now Mother will have to finish it off for you." She slowly peeled the long foreskin back to reveal a glistening, beautifully tapered head. "I'm glad we didn't have you circumcised. It's so much nicer like this." She increased her speed, pulling the skin back and forth over his knob. "Oh, Son," she cried, "you're getting such a good hard-on!"