Billy was just as entranced with his mother's body as she had hoped he would be. The way he was staring at her tits made them thrust out even more proudly. Her nipples throbbed against the material of her bra. One shake of her shoulders would be enough to cause her boobs to spill over the top of the tiny garment.

"I feel like I should be wearing some more clothes," Joyce teased, standing with her legs spread wide and her fists on the swells of her hips.

Billy was afraid his swollen cock was going to tear the front of his pants open. For as far back as he could remember, his mother had been the main object of his horny dreams. Suddenly she was standing before him, dressed as in his wildest fantasies.

Joyce saw Billy's eyes fly to the damp spot between her legs. Her cunt was overflowing, turning the crotch of her panties into a sopping mess. She could feel a thin, warm trickle of sex juices rolling down her inner thighs. Joyce knew that her son could smell the strong scent of her hungry pussy and she hoped the aroma would make his cock hard and hot.

"Please don't change, Mom," Billy finally said, forcing his words through dry lips. "You look just great, I really mean it. There's no reason to change into anything else."

Joyce liked the eagerness in her son's voice. She liked his sincere tone. Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, she took a deep swallow from her glass, immediately feeling the booze's soft glow spreading through her chest. Even though the air-conditioning kept the room nice and cool, beads of perspiration were forming on Joyce's brow.

"When you think about it," Joyce began, looking at her horny reflection in a large mirror hanging on the far wall of the room, "plenty of chic go out in the street with little more than this covering themselves."