Kathy Andrews

Mom_s wet panties

CHAPTER ONE

Joyce Martin held her son's hand as they walked along the dark street. They could have taken a taxi, but the night was warm and perfect for a walk.

Jerry had been with his friend, Tony, a few blocks from his own home. And, after thinking it over, Joyce had decided to get him. Jerry was still much too young to be out so late by himself, although he didn't think so.

She squeezed his hand affectionately, looking down at his handsome young face as they passed beneath a street lamp. He looked so much like his deceased father it was sometimes painful for Joyce to look at the boy.

She had enjoyed fucking with her husband, and it still tormented her even when sleeping. She had always been an intensely erotic type of woman, and there was nothing she and her husband had not tried and enjoyed. Widowed a year ago, Joyce found only recently that her thoughts had turned to Jerry, imagining him between her legs, his cock pumping into her always hot and wet cunt, fucking her the way her husband had fucked her.

She had tried to rid herself of these lewd thoughts by finger-fucking herself to a series of orgasms that left her feeling wrung out and totally satisfied.

Jerry was old enough now, she was certain, to enjoy a good fucking with a woman who knew how to take, care of his cock. The fact that she thought woman instead of girl gave her the inkling of a desire she had been trying to suppress… suppress because she thought of herself as that woman.

Even holding his hand this way, her hip brushing against him occasionally, sent ripples of steaming hunger through her puffy cunt. As soon as she had taken his hand when they left the home of his friend, Joyce had become aware of how wet her cunt had become. The crotch of her panties seemed soaked as her pussy seeped, her clit so distended she wished she could rip her panties off; the pressure of them against her cunt was unbearable.

They were still a few blocks from home when Joyce felt the urge to piss. She tried to control it, but the more she did, the greater the urge. Lately, when she was aroused, this desire to piss had become stronger. Only the day before, thinking of fucking her son, she had wanted to piss so badly she had actually come as she sat on the toilet, pissing a golden stream into the water, hearing it tinkling. That had never happened to her before, and she had never played pissing games with her husband. It was one of the few things they had not gotten around to by the time of his death.

She gave a soft moan as a quick squirt of piss slipped from her cunt. She had been unable to prevent it, and now she could feel warm piss on her inner thighs. It felt sensual as her thighs rubbed together, making her cunt boil all the more. Joyce was not really surprised at her reaction… not after the day before. She squeezed her son's hand tighter, bringing the back of it along her thigh in a slow swinging motion. They were in shadows now, and Joyce began looking for someplace she could piss. She knew she would be pissing in her panties long before they got home. The only answer was to piss in a dark corner someplace. She didn't want to arrive home with piss running down her thighs, Jerry maybe noticing it, making fun of her or something.

They were in a residential section, about two blocks from home. Joyce noticed an older home setting about thirty feet from the sidewalk. It had an old-fashioned porch with a white painted railing, and what looked to be a porch swing. There was some shrubbery near the porch, but not enough to conceal her. The house was dark, and the for sale sign on the lawn convinced her she could perhaps piss on the porch, out of sight.