She walked over to the bed. Her son stared at her, unable to keep his eyes off her voluptuous body in her semi-transparent negligee, glancing furtively up and down between her swollen nipples and her bushy vee.

She was smiling mysteriously, he noticed a sort of knowing leer. Jeez! Had she seen his cock rearing up? Was she gonna give him some stupid, lecture on the evils of self-abuse? But, if that were the case, why, was she smiling?

He gaped at her in embarrassed confusion as she curled supplely on the side of his bed. She drew one knee under her, exposing her lush leg damned near to the groin, and as she leaned slightly forward, it seemed as if her heavy tits were about to spill from her bodice.

She seemed to hesitate, as if seeking words. "Have you been playing with yourself, Jimmy, dear?" she asked him, still smiling.

"Jeez! Naw, Mom!" he croaked.

Diana took the edge of the sheet and lifted it up, peering under it at his loins.

Despite the boy's shame, his willful prick refused to recede or diminish, standing in a long, thick tower above his bloated balls.

Diana gazed at his groin for long moments, her silken eyelashes fluttering over the glowing azure orbs, her lips slightly parted, the tip of her tongue gliding across. Her nostrils flared gently as she breathed in the fevered fumes of his cock and balls.

Then she looked up, giving the panicky young man a look of wry amusement.

"What a lovely prick you have, darling – it's so big and hard," she purred.

His eyes registered disbelief.

"If you don't play with it, you should," she added.

The boy couldn't believe that she had said that. It wasn't the sort of maternal advice one expected.

"Gosh, Mom – I can't help it if it gets stiff," he croaked. "I don't play with it, though."

Diana knew that had to be a lie.