"Because I will, that's why," Ted said, stammering and shuffling.

"What makes you think you will?"

"I just will, Mom."

Becky could not stop her hand from moving. She took her son's hand in hers, pulling him closer. Her other hand rested on his shoulder. Squeezing her son's hand, she stroked his cheek, tilted his face up to her. She searched his young eyes, but Ted tried to avoid looking at her. She felt him tremble, and his flesh felt hot to her hand when she cupped his cheek.

"Ted?" she asked softly. "Have you been peeking at me?"

"Aw, Mom," he said, blushing.

"You have," Becky said in a low whisper. "You've been peeking at me. I see it on your face."

Then Becky wondered if he had watched her playing when she pissed. Her own face now blushed, but she was also excited, and becoming more so as she stood there with him. Her gaze moved downward to the front of his jeans, and she could barely see the bulge of his cock there. "Where did you peek, Ted? In my room?"

Ted nodded, not looking at her.

"When?"

"Aw, came on, Mom."

"I have to know, honey," she said, sliding her hand up and down his arm now, caressing his flesh. "Please, tell me when you peeked."

"You're gonna get pissed, Mom," he said. "I mean, you're really gonna be mad at me."

"I won't be mad at you," she said softly. "I promise, I will not, as you say, be pissed at you."

"You won't make me stay in my room or ground me and take my bike away, like you did last time?"

"I promise not to do any of those things," she said.

"Okay, but you promised, Mom," he said. Ted sucked in a deep breath, and found himself staring at his mother's tits. He could see her nipples pushing at the light sweater. He swallowed. "I saw you two times, Mom. Once you were drying off after taking a bath, and then I saw you the other morning when you slept late."