Carol moved her right hand, crossing over her hip bone, then worked her fingers teasingly downward. Roger's eyes followed his mother's hand, his eyes bulging and hot, his breath caught inside his throat. He saw his mother touch herself between her long thighs, and she rubbed very lightly with the tip of one finger, Carol drew the fingertip up and down the bulge of her panties, tracing the slit of her cunt from bottom to top, her hips arching upward as she moaned in self-induced pleasure. A soft whimper followed the moan, and then she whispered a name.

"Roger!"

At first Roger wasn't sure his mother had used his name, but when she whispered it once more, slightly louder, he heard it distinctly. And while she called out his name, she rubbed her palm up and down her crotch, pressing at her cunt.

Carol was seeing, in her mind, behind her closed eyes, her son's cock, up and very hard, throbbing and dripping. She breathed deeply, her tight tits lifting inside her blouse. She pressed the tip of her middle finger against the tight crotch of her panties, pushing the cloth into her cunt. Roger saw the dark curls of his mother's blonde cunt hair on the sides of her panties and his balls felt a sharp stab of pain.

Carol's eyes fluttered open.

She froze.

She was staring at her son, or rather, at the swollen head of his cock that now poked from the fringe of his shorts. Her finger was inside her cunt to the first knuckle, and she was frozen in this position, lewdly, unable to take her eyes from Roger's prick.

Roger, too, felt immobilized. He knew his mother had opened her eyes, but like her, he couldn't move either. He didn't want to move. His cock jerked up and down, half outside his shorts. His piss hole flared open, dripping a clear liquid.