As his pleasure mounted and his breathing deepened, Jim imagined that he could smell the sweet mixture of his mother's perfume and the warm scent of her body. As he tried to figure out how it would feel to shove his cock into the cunt he was looking at in the magazine, it became his mother's cunt he longed for, and he thought how her gigantic tits would make a nice pillow.

By the time his gism began to shoot from the blown-up head of his pecker, he could only think of his mother. Jim had developed his imagination to the point where he could fill in all the unknown details of the mysteries of sex, but he was determined to fill in some of those blanks with research at home.

As usual, he mopped up his spilled gism and went downstairs. He was, in for a shock this time though. That redhead with the big tits looked

different… It was like the time one of his friends had shown him a cartoon of Dagwood and Blondie that showed them fucking. The next time he saw them in the paper, he felt that he had invaded their private life. Now, after his fantasies about his mother, she looked entirely different. Her tits, that had always just been another pert of her, seemed to be waiting for his hands to caress them, and she walked across the kitchen, he imagined her upper thighs brushing together, soft skin and hair in motion.

"I'm going out now, Mom," he called.

"Will you be home for lunch?"

He said he didn't know, and left with a slam of the screen door. Peg was troubled. The night before was a little blurry in her mind, but she did remember going into his room and what she did there, and the thoughts she had. Those thoughts were still with her even though she was afraid that Jim was suspicious of her now.

Going to the window, she watched him walk down the street. His tall, slim figure looked good to her and she felt her pussy warm up. Jim's brown hair hung down over his cam and beck and bounced a he took those long strides. She had always been proud of him, but now he was suddenly becoming more, much more.