A Mother's Confession

I carefully chose my next words, wanting to steer the discussion in a direction that would help us both. "How long have you been... relieving yourself?" I asked, hoping to get some insight into his habits. But deep down, I also wanted to know just how many times he had pleasured himself when he could have been with me instead - on me, or even inside me. Yes, I knew I had sunk to depraved thoughts, but the heat between my thighs only increased as we talked.

"I don't know...a while, I guess," he replied, still avoiding direct eye contact and fidgeting uncomfortably.

Once again, I nodded in understanding as I cautiously formed my next question. "And do you feel better after you...please yourself?" My voice was soft and heavy with desire as I asked.

"Sometimes," he admitted, his tone growing even softer. "But sometimes, it's not enough."

A small, gentle smile spread across my lips as I looked at him. Memories of the same feelings he was experiencing flooded back to me, reminding me of my own youth. "You're growing up, sweetie. It's a natural part of life," I reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And don't worry, even adults still do it sometimes...you know, play with themselves," I added playfully, my smile turning mischievous. The air around us felt charged with a mix of nostalgia and humor as we shared this intimate moment.

“And… who do you think about when you masturbate?” I asked.

“Well… nobody in particular, some pretty girl, I suppose,” he answered, blushing.

The look my son gave me at that moment was one of immense guilt, even stronger than the feeling I had when I walked in on him in the shower. His eyes were downcast and his body language showed his shame. But I decided to let him off the hook, believing it might be best to spare him from his own guilt. "I know you saw me last night honey," I said gently, trying to ease the tension between us. "I know you watched me masturbate, and it's okay. There was nothing wrong with it." My words hung in the air delicately, hoping to soothe any unease he may have been feeling.

My son's eyes widened in disbelief; shock evident on his face. "You- you saw me?" he asked incredulously. "You saw me… you know?" He trailed off, leaving the question hanging between us. At first, his face paled and then flushed with embarrassment.

I nodded calmly, smiling across the table at him. "Yes, I saw what you were doing too," I admitted, feeling a rush of heat building inside me as my arousal called out for release. "But don't worry, I liked it."