Ian had started to spend a lot of time alone -- dashing off unexpectedly with excuses like homework, wanting to finish a project, reading a good book... None of which fooled her. Mary knew what her son was doing. He was masturbating.

That knowledge intrigued her to the point where it was becoming an obsession. At first she had tried to ignore it, but after a while, when Ian would run off, she would wait a few moments and then follow. Standing outside his bedroom door, she would listen to the wet, rhythmic sounds of her son jerking himself off. She listened for the low satisfied groan that he let out as he came.

At first she hadn't dared risk it, but after a while, Mary found herself unable to resist slipping her hand inside her panties to touch herself while she listened. She fantasized that it was Ian's hand. Ian's mouth. Ian's cock. She came when her son did and often slipped off to her own room afterwards to do it again.

She found herself thinking about him while she was at work. Wondering if he was home yet -- up in his room -- touching. It aroused her and there were times she would slip her hand up under her skirt and rub her fingers through her wet cleft while she pictured what Ian might be doing at the same time.

Her work was slipping. She rarely took lunch with the girls anymore, preferring to lock herself in her office to get off on her incestual fantasies. She wondered if he thought of her. Mary wanted him to, but she knew better. It was that Patti girl on Ian's mind.

One day last week, she'd left work early pleading a migraine. When she arrived home, she let herself in but was drawn to voices out by the pool. Thinking Ian must be there with his friends, she started to go out to greet them, but the sound of a girl's voice stopped her.

"You're so naughty, Ian White" the girl giggled. "You know I said no touching."

"I know, Patti. But... just once? Just... your breast? Please?"

"No, Ian. And that's that! And since you keep on, I'm going home."

Mary watched her son as he rushed after Patti, begging her not to leave and the way the girl stared and grinned at the tent in his swim trunks. His erection was straining desperately against the thin material and he did nothing to hide it from the little tease either. Well why should he? She put him in that state to begin with.
That bitch! Mary thought to herself. How dare she tease her son and then flounce away like that!

On one hand, Mary was infuriated. On the other she could see a plan beginning to unfold -- which, if all went well, meant that Ian would no longer be begging Patti for what she wasn't going to give up. He wouldn't have to beg anyone ever again. @