The only difference this Saturday morning was she and Mike were alone.

They were sitting on the floor, and he was helping her go through magazines in search of coupons. Again she was in shorts, a pair of white ones, with high-cut legs, the waist low on her hips. She was wearing a T-shirt now, and her tits were molded against the thin garment, her nipples protruding. Mike, as usual, was in faded cut-offs.

She was clipping coupons from a magazine when she noticed her son was staring at a picture for a long time. Glancing at it, she saw it was a model in a very brief bra and skimpy panties, and advertisement for hair remover. The slightly bulging panties indicated a darker color, and Donna knew Mike was fascinated by the picture. She dropped her eyes to the front of his cut-offs, but saw nothing. She felt that since he was looking with intense eyes at the picture, his cock would be hard, but it wasn't.

"That looks like you, Mom," he finally said.

"Let me see," Donna said, taking the magazine.

It did look like her, a younger version, though. The hair was the same color, the eyes the same shape.

"It isn't me," she said. "I would never be that kind of model."

"You'd be good at it," he said. "Look at your legs, Mom. They're even nicer than this girl's."

"That's a nice thing to say," she said. "But you must be up to something or want something. A boy never thinks his mother's legs are prettier than other girls."

"Yours are," he insisted.

"Oh, yeah!" Donna giggled, and poked him in his ribs.

Mike yelped and pulled away, but Donna was on him, wrestling him to the floor, coupons scattered all over. Mike laughed and thrashed as she poked and tickled his ribs, straddling him and giggling happily.

"Mom, stop it!" Mike laughed, not trying very hard to dislodge her. "You're gonna make me pee in my pants!"