That had only been the first time. Emily had lost track of the times her son had made flimsy excuses to ogle her body. If she wore tight pants, she would catch him staring at her pert, rounded ass. If she wore a dress, he would stare at her legs. Nearly a dozen times now he'd barged into her room without knocking, in the hope of glimpsing his own mother in the raw. Once he'd caught her naked except for her bikini panties. Paul had apologized, staring straight at her huge tits, but that night Emily had heard the obscene thumping sound a six times in a row.

"Ungghhh!" The sound from the other side of the door was louder than ever. "Ungghh! Gonna aim!"

This is disgusting, Emily thought furiously.

He was proudly thinking about fucking his own mother! But she knew how desirable she was. Her beautiful face and voluptuous body had made her the source of male attention since puberty.

Emily decided that she was going to do something about it. She glanced down at herself, realizing that the lacy nightie she wore might only make her son hornier. Well, it didn't matter. It was her house, and he was her son, and he was going to do as she wanted.

Emily turned the knob and threw his door open. Paul was sprawled naked on his bed, his features contorted as his right fist flew wildly up and down his rock-hard cock. Emily suppressed a gasp as she realized that her son obviously had a much longer, fatter prick than she'd thought possible. She frowned sternly, her giant tits quivering as she stamped across the room to his bed.

"Paul!" she shouted. "Paul, stop it!"

"Oh, shit!" Paul whispered.