It was because she had seen the girl's ass, but because he made such an obviously hungry [missing text].

[missing text] the ass cheeks bunching as she walked.

"Ahhhh, so pretty," Bobby murmured, and Sharon noticed his right hand was below the small table.

"Don't drool," she whispered, knowing he was probably pressing his hand on his hard cock.

He flashed his mother a grin, and quickly turned to watch the woman's succulent ass bounce from view.

This open honesty between her and Bobby had always been there. There were few secrets between them. She didn't think her son kept any secret from her. He didn't go out of his way to hide to jack off, didn't make any particular effort to conceal the fact. She could have walked in on him a number of times. She was sure her son wouldn't mind, and would probably welcome her presence, enjoy having her watch him pump his hand up and down his cock, watch the gush of that boiling, thick come juice spurt from his balls and cock.

No, she didn't think her son kept any secrets from her.

But Sharon kept a few from him.

She kept bidden this rowing need inside her own body, this almost maddeningly insatiable hunger to allow her son to see her dressed in revealing clothing, this constant bubbling heat of her cunt. She refused to accept the messages of her mind that she desired her son, desired his cock, desired to fuck him. She liked his boldness, his unhesitating way of saying exactly what he had on his mind.

Sitting there, watching her son gaze hotly at the women and girls, she felt the crazy urge to slide her hand to him, to see if he did, indeed, have a hard-on under the table. But all she could do was sit there in her wet panties and try to imagine his cock bulging up inside his pants.

"Let's go, Mom," he said.

She knew he would want to leave as soon as he felt the heat in his young balls. Watching so many pretty women and girls, with his erotic interest in them, Bobby couldn't remain long without going off to pound his cock until he came. She knew that quite well.