She turned her attention back to her son, who was scratching at his upper thigh. As she watched him, he lifted his shorts just enough so the cheek of his ass showed, and scratched briefly. It had been enough to tell her that Billy wasn't wearing underwear beneath his shorts, and the idea sent a gentle pulsation through her pussy.

She wondered what Billy would say if she opened the door and spread her legs as he came back to the car. She wondered if he would look at her, or turn his eyes away, blushing because he had seen his mother's panties.

The urge was stronger, and she tried to think of something else, anything not erotic.

Billy, carrying his soft drink, turned from the window. He started toward the car, but stopped when one of the teenagers called out to him. He waved, then turned toward his waiting mother again. Misty watched the front of his shorts, and then, before she could stop herself, opened the door of the car, swinging her left foot out, leaving the right inside. Her white skirt slipped along her thighs, high.

"Billy, get me one, too," she called.

Billy looked at her and almost dropped his cup.

His mother had that leg out, wide, and he could look up her dress, see the creamy softness of her thighs above her nylons, and the white crotch of her tight panties. For a moment he seemed stunned, unable to move. Misty held her leg wide, then drew it into the car, shutting the door.

As he watched her son turn back to the window, she wondered why she didn't feel ashamed of herself, or even embarrassed. What she felt instead, was delicious burning between her thighs, a tingling in and around her cunt as if she was on the verge of coming off.