Her eyes gazed with passion at her son's cock and balls. She saw the small tuft of hair at the base of his cock, evidence of his youth. His balls had not a single hair, yet they were big and full looking. His cock was thick and long, with the bulbous cockhead tautly swollen.

Reclining on the arm of the couch, staring into his mother's crotch, Bobby began to jack off once again. Sharon breathed hotly, watching him, her tits rising and falling, her cunt smoldering. A quick glance between her legs showed the slit of her cunt was outlined against those wet panties, strands of black pussy hair swirling outward.

It was too late to close her legs, to shove her skirt down, she thought.

She moved her eyes back to his fist, blushing with embarrassment, but more excited and erotically aroused than she had been in many years. There was no harm in letting her son see her panties, see how wet they were, that cunt hair sticking out. No harm at all. It excited him, and her. They had no one in the world but each other.

"You do it, too, Mom," Bobby said.

"I… I can't, Bobby," she gasped.

"Come on, Mom," he insisted. "I wanna see you do it, too!"

Sharon moved her fingers toward her crotch, but couldn't touch herself, not with her son watching, even if he was jacking off, too. She felt the nylon of her panties on her fingertips, her hips starting to move slightly.

Bobby went to his knees, his pants stretching at his thighs, his cock and balls arching forward. Sharon stared, watching her son jacking that tight fist almost frantically now. His eyes burned on her cunt, on her panties, her smooth inner thighs. She felt her pussy swelling, her clit pressing at the fabric. She moved her fingers to the inside of her uplifted leg, and stroked slowly at the exquisitely creamy skin, almost to her crotch. She began to sob with embarrassed ecstasy as she watched him fucking his own fist, his hips jerking back and forth.