Zesai and Amara did their best to act like everything was normal after their big talk at dinner. They went through the motions, eating breakfast together, saying goodnight, pretending the air wasn't humming with something sexually. But it was there, that thick, buzzing tension. They both knew how the other felt now, and it hung over every move they made.
They tried to brush it off with adult jokes and they'd laugh too loud, too quick. But the second the laughter died, their eyes would dart away, and the memory of that night on the couch would creep back in. The jokes just made it worse, stirring up the heat they were trying to bury.
Zesai had promised he'd stop spying on her, but that promise didn't stick. His hormones were a runaway train, and he couldn't help himself. He'd creep around the house, quiet as a shadow, peeking through keyholes or cracked doors whenever he thought she wouldn't notice. He'd catch glimpses, her stepping out of the shower, water dripping down her back, or changing in her room, bra slipping off her shoulders. Every time, his dick would jump, hard and aching, and he'd hate himself a little more for it.
One afternoon, he was at it again. Amara was in the bathroom, the door shut but not locked. He'd made a tiny knothole in the wood, just big enough to press his eye to. He crouched outside, heart thudding, and peered in.
She was standing by the tub, steam curling up from the hot water she'd started running. Her bathrobe was still on, that faded blue one, tied loose around her waist. She reached for the faucet, bending a little, and the robe shifted, showing the curve of her hip. Zesai's breath hitched, his dick already stiffening in his pajama pants.
He leaned closer, too close, and his foot slipped on the hardwood floor. His shoulder banged the door, and before he could catch himself, he stumbled forward, crashing through and landing hard on the tile. He sprawled out right at her feet, flat on his stomach, the air knocked out of him.
"Oh God, Mom, I'm sorry!" he blurted, scrambling to get up. He pushed himself to his knees, hands fumbling, but there was no hiding it, his dick was rock-hard, poking straight out of the slit in his pajamas, red and leaking at the tip. He yanked at the fabric, trying to tuck it away, but it was useless.
Amara froze, staring down at him. Her eyes widened, first at his fall, then at his dick swinging free. She'd caught him spying again after he'd promised but that wasn't what stopped her cold. It was how big he was. Thick, long, bulging along the shaft, way bigger than his dad's ever was.
Her mouth went dry, and heat crawled up her neck, turning her face cherry-red. She realized she was gawking and snapped her eyes up to his face. "Zesai, you promised," she said, her voice sharp, trying to shove her embarrassment somewhere else.
"I know, Mom, I'm awful," he said, head hanging low.
She sighed, long and tired, like she was giving up a fight.
"Alright," she said, crossing her arms, then uncrossing them. "If we're gonna keep living in this house, I guess we've gotta deal with this peeking thing you can't shake."
She looked at him, shaking her head slow, like he was some kid who'd brought mud inside house. But her hands moved, hesitant at first, then steady. She reached for the belt on her robe, fingers tugging the knot loose. The fabric parted, sliding off her shoulders, and she let it fall in a soft heap around her feet. She stood there in just her panties white cotton, nothing fancy, hugging her hips tight.
"Ohhhh God," Zesai breathed, his voice a shaky whisper. His eyes locked on her, drinking her in. Her boobs were bare now, full and round, hanging natural with a slight sway. Her nipples were dark pink, stiffening in the cool air, sticking out like little buds. Her stomach was flat with great figure, pale skin catching the bathroom light. She stood still, letting him look, her chest rising and falling faster, making her boobs quiver just a little.
Zesai's mouth hung open, his dick throbbing harder, a bead of precum coming out.
Then she moved. She turned slow, her back to him, and hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties. His breath stopped dead as she bent slightly, peeling them down. The cotton slid over her ass, revealing it inch by inch, smooth, curved cheeks, firm but soft, not a mark on them. She stepped out, kicking the panties aside, and they landed in a crumpled ball near the sink.
Then she turned back around, facing him full-on. "Get your fill, Zesai Kertat," she said, her tone half-scolding, half-worn-out, like she was teaching him a lesson he'd never learn.
But her body told a different story, her hands shook at her sides, and her breathing was ragged. Her pussy was right there, inches from his face. The inner lips peeked out, pink and swollen, glistening with a thin sheen of wetness. The air carried her scent, musky, warm.
Zesai couldn't move, kneeling there like a statue, his dick pulsing so hard it hurt. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling, he wanted to grab her, to jerk himself off, to shove his face between her thighs and taste that wetness. But he didn't. He just stared, eyes wide, chest heaving, taking in every detail, her trembling legs, the way her pussy lips seemed to twitch, the flush creeping down her neck.
"Now get outta here and let me take my bath," Amara said, her voice cracking. She could feel it, the heat pooling low, her pussy aching, so close to tipping over the edge just from him looking. If he stayed one more second, she might lose it right there.
Zesai blinked, snapping out of it. He stole one last look, her boobs heaving, her wet pussy shining then stumbled to his feet. He bolted out the door, slamming it behind him, and ran to his room.
The second he hit his bed, he shoved his pants down, grabbed his cock, and started pumping. His fist flew, slick with precum, and he pictured her—naked, trembling, that perfect ass, that dripping pussy.
It took maybe ten strokes before he groaned loud, cum shooting out in thick spurts, splattering his chest and sheets. He collapsed, panting, her image burned into his head.
---
Amara stepped into the tub, the hot water lapping at her ankles as she sank down. Steam curled up around her, fogging the bathroom mirror. She settled in, the heat soaking into her skin, and let her legs fall open under the water.
Her hand slipped down between her thighs, fingers brushing over her pussy, still wet, still swollen from standing naked in front of Zesai.
She closed her eyes and started slow, rubbing her clit with her thumb, letting two fingers slide inside. The water sloshed gently as she moved, her breath hitching. She pictured his face, wide eyes, parted lips, that hungry stare and her fingers sped up, pressing harder. Her boobs floated just above the waterline, nipples poking out, hard and pink.
A soft moan slipped from her throat, echoing off the tiles. It didn't take long for her pussy clenched around her fingers, and she came with a shudder, a quiet gasp breaking the stillness. Water splashed over the tub's edge, dripping onto the floor.
She leaned back after, head resting against the cool porcelain, legs limp in the warm water. Her chest rose and fell slow now, boobs glistening with sweat and bathwater. She stared up at the ceiling, letting her mind replay what had just happened.
She waited for the guilt to hit, some heavy wave of shame for stripping bare in front of her son, for letting him see her pussy up close, dripping and trembling. She wanted to feel bad, to scold herself for being so wild, so reckless. But it didn't come.
Instead, a strange glow settled in her chest. She ran her hands down her sides, feeling the soft curve of her hips, the weight of her boobs as she cupped them.
She liked how she looked, still smooth, still full, still enough to stop a guy dead in his tracks. And not just any guy , Zesai, young and fit, with those sharp blue eyes and that hard dick poking out of his pajamas.
She'd made him lose it, made him run off to jerk himself silly. A little smile tugged at her lips. She felt bold, alive, like she'd cracked open some secret part of herself and found it wasn't so bad.
Maybe the regret would creep in later, tomorrow, the next day but right now, soaking in the tub, she just basked in it.