"Perfect!" Timmy said.

She let him take her hand and lead her out the back door. There was a fence, but it was low, and anyone could look over it easily. The wrought-iron patio furniture was padded comfortably, and the round table was shaded by a huge fringed umbrella.

She sat on the lounge where her son pointed, and he sat at the table.

"Pull your leg up!" he said.

Donna shot a glance around the back yard, her face flaming.

"Out here, Timmy?" she asked. "Someone might see me. I'd be full of shame."

"Who cares if someone sees you? I don't!" he said.

Donna looked at him then lifted her right knee slowly. Her dress started to slide along her thigh, but he stopped her. When she paused with her knee bent slightly, thighs showing he told her to bend it all the way back.

Donna knew what he was seeing then. He wanted to see her new panties. Her eyes glanced briefly at the front of his cut-offs, the same pair he had oven her to wash the day before. Cut-offs were all he wore, it seemed. The head of his cock poked from the fringe.

"That's pretty, Mom," Timmy said. "You look real pretty. Those panties fit just right. I can see hair and, oh, yeah, the slit of your fucking cunt, too."

She couldn't stop blushing. Her husband had never made her do anything like this. Yet, the possibility of someone seeing her, seeing those tiny panties, caused her to feel a strange thrill.

"You're really pretty, Mom."

"No! I'm not, Timmy," she said, pleased by his words. "I'm nothing special. Just a woman, that's all."

"My woman," Timmy said, pulling the edge of his shorts to one side, exposing his cock. "You're my cunt."