Mother’s Stories – Part 1 Jane’s First T
1. Jane’s Testimony
Well I’d better tell you a little about myself first. I’m a recently abandoned single mum – my husband had left me about a year before this all happened. He went off with another woman, someone he worked with. So it was just me and my teenage son at home. It took me quite a while to cotton on what my son was up to. It was when I noticed a pattern developing. You see, several times a week I would have a wash in our kitchen, which is downstairs. We are short of money so I only heat certain rooms in the winter, and we heat our water using an immersion heater, so I ration baths, usually only two per week for each of us. My son knows not to come into the kitchen when I’m having a wash, and there’d never been any issues. Until I began to notice that he often found a reason to leave the house not long before I had my evening wash. He’d need to go and see a friend from a few doors down, or he’d be out in the evening and usually returned about five minutes after I had left the kitchen.
Because it wasn’t every time I was in there, I only twigged something might be up after a few weeks. And then it was when I heard a noise outside one night when I was stripped off to the waist and washing my breasts that made me put two and two together. It sounded like a tap on the window. I quickly grabbed a towel and covered myself before opening the curtain, but it was dark outside and I could see nothing. But I was a bit worried. Was someone spying on me? Could it be my son?
I decided to investigate. A few evenings went by and, once again, Joe, my son, had gone out to see his friend. I looked around the kitchen and saw it – there was a carefully disguised fold in the curtains, allowing a small area to be seen through from outside! It was small, and looked completely accidental. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t specifically looked for something. At first I thought it was way too far up to be looked through from outside, but then remembered we have a garden seat under the window! The crafty boy had positioned the spy-hole perfectly for him to stand on the chair and watch me washing myself!
What was I to do? I was tempted to pull open the curtains and catch him in the act – or to quickly unlock the door to the garden and catch him that way. But I paused. I realised he must be desperate to want to watch his own mother take her clothes off. As a teenage boy I guessed that his hormones were raging. He didn’t have a girlfriend and was a bit of an introvert, playing board games with his pals most of the time. I decided I mustn’t act hastily. So, this time, realising he was almost certainly watching me again, I had a rather demure wash. I took my blouse off, and my skirt, so was just in my boring daily undies. I didn’t do my usual all-over wash, but concentrated on my face and my underarms. I left my crotch out of it, though I can’t see how, from his vantage point, he would have been able to see the lower half of my body – the kitchen sink and units would obscure his view. He would have been able to see more when I walked further back and got dressed again I guess. Yes, I suppose he would have seen me undress before I began my ablutions, but not when I took down my panties and washed my nether regions. So he’d have been able to ogle my breasts and my bottom, only briefly for that though, as I tended to put on a dressing gown first when I’d finished, then knickers. Mind you, he wouldn’t have had many opportunities to see naked breasts in real life. He probably saw girly mags, lads do don’t they, but they don’t show much really. Certainly not sex organs!
So I finished my wash and returned to the sitting room. Joe arrived back home a few minutes later (what a surprise!) and we watched TV for a while before first he, and later I, went to our beds.
I couldn’t sleep. My mind was a turmoil. I was cross and felt violated, but I also felt sorry for him – that he would go to such lengths to see naked breasts! And as time went on and I drifted in and out of sleep, I felt a new feeling – I was turned on! I felt sexy! My son wanted to see my naked body. It was awful, but wonderful at the same time. I started having fantasies of myself as a stripper, or a nude model. Men watching me, drooling over me as I teased them, showing a bit here and a bit there. I felt a kind of power as I imagined scenarios where I wore alluring clothes and had men eating out of my hand, and then I showed them everything they wanted to see before I would whisk it away from them. I imagined them ejaculating as I exposed myself. I couldn’t believe what I was imagining!
Next morning my mind was made up. I wasn’t going to say anything to Joe about his voyeurism. I felt sorry for him, I felt sexual urges reigniting in my body for the first time since my husband left, and I didn’t see any real harm in it… maybe I was naïve. I laid my plans.
Two nights later, Joe had gone out earlier in the evening, but not before, I noticed, he had set the curtains with the little spy-hole again! Before I went into the kitchen for my evening wash, I wanted to make sure he would be in place, so I briefly went upstairs, not putting any lights on, and peeked out of an upstairs bedroom window, knowing I would not be seen from below. And there he was! He was standing, as I suspected, on the garden chair, with his face pressed against the window. OK. Let the show begin…
I went into the kitchen. Rather than come up close to the sink and the window, I stayed further back, knowing he could see my full length. Thus I was standing next to the kitchen table, midway between the sink and the kitchen door. I began my act. First I undid the buttons on my blouse, slowly, while seemingly checking the stitching, just to make it more enticing. Once all were undone, the blouse hung open slightly, revealing, slightly, not my workaday bra but a rather nice lacy black job I hadn’t worn for years – part of my preparations! I turned my back to my spy, and made a show of looking in a cupboard before I let the blouse slip off my shoulders, revealing the back of the bra to his gaze. I could imagine his anticipation as I gradually turned round. My breasts are a decent size, and they are firm – maybe my best assets. They look wonderful in a bra. I began to feel a little hot, I think my face was a bit red. And I started feeling a wetness at my crotch. Oh dear, I was naughty! I made sure I didn’t look at the curtains – I didn’t want Joe to suspect I knew he was watching me. I reached behind myself and undid the zip at the back of my skirt. Then I let it fall to the floor. Joe may have been disappointed at this point as I was wearing a short slip under the skirt. This too was a lacy black number. I was going to take my time…
It was another item to take off, to prolong the excitement – probably for the both of us! I bent to pick up the discarded skirt and put it on a chair, then I took off the slip. I would have loved to see my son’s face – under the slip I had on a rather expensive open-bottom girdle supporting black fully-fashioned stockings! This was definitely NOT what he would have expected, and he was seeing me full-length too! I made a bit of a show of unclipping the stockings and rolling them down my legs then inspecting them before placing them on the chair. Now it was time for the girdle. This was tight. I had to roll it carefully so my panties didn’t come off with it – that would spoil the tension! Then it was done – I stood there for him in just my black bra and knickers. Christmas had come early for him!
What next then I thought. Could I go further? I was conflicted, this was so bad… but so exciting. I knew he must have seen my naked bust before, but that was when I wasn’t aware. Could I expose them? And more? I swallowed. I decided, for now, to do as I usually did. So I filled a kettle from the tap and waited for it to boil. I moved over and put cold water in the sink, gathered my towel and wash things – now standing about 18 inches from my pervert son on the other side of the window. Then I reached behind myself and undid my bra clasps, lifting it off and allowing my full breasts with their hard nipples (they aren’t usually!) to knowingly be seen by my son. I was breathing heavily now and very wet between my legs. Could I hear a shuffling on the other side of the window? Maybe my imagination….
I put the hot water in the sink and began washing myself. I took extra care over my bust, for Joe’s benefit. He must be getting a wonderful eyeful! I gently lifted each breast and soaped underneath. I examined each nipple in turn. Was I overdoing it? Probably. I was in danger of going too far. Something seemed to trigger inside me and I became aware of what I was doing. I finished washing, I did soap my crotch, but I dropped my knickers and I knew that part of me was not visible behind the sink unit. So after towelling myself, I pulled the panties back up, turned away from the window and slipped on my robe. I returned to the sitting room.
Joe returned, as expected, some time later. He was flushed and stammered slightly as he greeted me. He kept stealing sidelong glances at me and I caught him smiling to himself. That night in bed I realized I was going to do this again – and go further…
It was a few days later and the scenario was pretty similar. Joe had to “go and see a friend” not long before my kitchen wash, and once again I saw the tell-tale spy hole was all ready for me! This time I had chosen different sexy undies – white under-wired bra, a suspender belt this time, tan stockings and a white full-cut pair of knickers. Once again I took my time removing my skirt and blouse, but I didn’t just wash myself this time. Instead, after showing him my bosom, and still wearing just the panties, I took out my lady shaver and climbed onto the table! This brought me up to a level he could see me extremely clearly, on his eye level, and quite close to the window. I bent forward and began to rub shaving foam on my lower legs. This meant that my thighs were somewhat splayed, giving him an excellent view of my panty gusset which was tightly drawn over my crotch. It was also getting very wet indeed as I thought about the effect it must be having on him. I shaved my legs, slowly and thoroughly, always ensuring I was giving him the best treat I could think of, ensuring my inner thighs and my gusset were nicely visible. Occasionally I lay back for a brief rest, and made sure my legs were wide apart as I did so. Then, full of daring and feeling highly exhibitionist I went for the ultimate thrill for him – I began to remove my knickers. For this I kept my legs together, making for more of a tease, and gradually pulled them down my legs. Once they were off, I sat with my knees together and my feet towards the spy-hole in the curtains. Then the piece de resistance – I let my thighs open, my knees part and I leant back a little, ensuring my vagina came into view. I could swear I heard a gasp from the window! Then I soaped myself down there, all around my pubic area and gently began to shave my bikini line. To do this I made sure I opened up fully, pulling my vaginal lips apart to make the skin taut for shaving. I lay on my side, lifted a leg and pulled myself further open, exposing my anus and gently soaping there and shaving around it as well. It wasn’t really necessary, but I was carried away at the thought of what this was doing for Joe – I could imagine his excitement and the wonder of seeing a mature woman’s sex organs, totally available for his delectation.
By this time juices were flowing freely out of my vagina, and I just occasionally dipped a finger inside myself. Then I lay back fully on the table, put the shaver and soaps to one side and began to masturbate myself fully. I lifted my legs up and apart, pulled my buttocks open and began to finger my clitoris and vulva lips. Then, completely wantonly, I reached underneath myself and inserted a finger into my rectum. All the time I was aware that my son would be watching this disgusting display. But I was loving it, and guessing Joe was too! I was lost in the sensuous of it as I dipped fingers in my vagina and rubbed my little button. I hoped Joe could see well, I was pretty sure he would be able to focus fully on my business end. Then, I felt a familiar tingling in my clitoris and began bucking with a full-blown orgasm. I was sweating and hot and dripping. I had to close my legs briefly but soon opened them again for Joe. Finally I decided on a nice sign off for my pervy son – I got onto all fours, rear end towards the curtain spy-hole, reached back and pulled my bum cheeks apart, knees nicely spread for a maximum rude view of my vagina and anus. I stayed like that, totally brazen for about half a minute. Surely he realised I knew he was there! Then I climbed down, put on my robe and returned to the living room.
Once again the scenario repeated itself, with Joe arriving back a few minutes later. He was very red in the face and stared at me as if he wanted to say something, or was expecting me to say something. I smiled at him and asked him if he’d had an enjoyable time! He stammered and was lost for words then replied that he’d had a wonderful time. “Oh good” I said, “by the way, is it cold out, you look hot!” He said it was cold out, but he’d run home – so that must explain it. Then he turned away and said he was off to bed.
Joe’s bedroom is next to mine, but the doors are angled away from each other. At the top of the stairs Joe’s room is first, and mine is next. If I leave my door open, I know Joe can see in, and if the light on the landing is out, I wouldn’t be able to see him if he peeked round the door. I usually close my door when I change, but tonight, after my teasing and in my sexy frame of mind, I began wondering how far his voyeurism went. Joe’s door was almost completely closed, but his light was on and I called out “goodnight, pleasant dreams” as I went past. I bet he was going to have pleasant dreams! Would he watch me if I left my door open and my light on? Let’s see…
I switched off the landing light, and in order to check If he may be watching, I angled my bedside mirror so it was focused on my open door. I left my door open, and kept the light on. I fussed around a little, listening intently for any sounds. I heard him switch off his bedroom light, then I thought I could hear a slight swish from his door. A slight creak from the landing floorboard perhaps? I turned on my bedside radio, very softly. That would hide any small sounds he may make and hopefully make him less inhibited from viewing me! And the soft middle of the road music provided a great soundtrack as I removed my robe and stood naked with my back to my door. I checked my mirror, I was pretty sure I could see his face slightly illuminated by the glow from my room, but he seemed to move back as if he realised that was possible. I knew he was watching though. In fact I think he realised I knew, and that we were both engaged in an unspoken sexual thrill show.. Who was the greater pervert? Probably me!
So I danced. Slowly and, I hope, sensually. I ran one arm down the other, I caressed my breasts, I turned round so he could see me fully displayed. I bent down, open-legged, I pulled myself open. I lay on the floor and spread myself again and again. I pulled up one leg and with the other pointed towards him, I pulled up my bottom cheeks for maximum opening of my vulva. I put fingers inside myself. I was like the ultimate final stage of the most disgusting strip show I could imagine. Then I went completely crazy. I reached under my bed for the potty I had kept there unused for years. I squatted over it, with my back to his gaze, pulled my vaginal lips apart and pee’d long and strongly into it. At that point I definitely heard a gasp! I rubbed my clitoris, thinking about the effect I was having and began to climax for the second time. I wiped myself dry, opened my dresser drawer and pulled on some filigree nylon panties and a little baby-doll nightie. I smiled at the darkness on the landing, let’s face it, I reckon we both knew what I was up to, closed the door, doused the light and went to bed. Next morning I discovered that there was a small white stain on the landing carpet…
And we have continued like this. We never speak of it, but almost every night before I go to bed, I put on a show for him! He doesn’t bother any more with the kitchen voyeurism, so no bothering to pretend he’s going to see a friend, we don’t bother with all of that. Instead he sits outside my bedroom, on a chair I have provided, with a box of tissues to avoid more stains on the carpet, and I strip and show myself to him. I wear a variety of sexually provocative underwear, and I come almost to the door so he is actually only a couple of feet away from me. I never look directly at him, and we pretend he’s invisible on the dark landing. I have begun to insert various items inside myself – bananas, cucumbers and so on. I wear see-through blouses during the evening when we are watching television together, with no bra of course. Sometimes he lies on the floor while we watch a film, and I arrange myself so that he can see directly up my skirt, occasionally I will straddle him while I change channels on the TV, and he discreetly looks up at my bare crotch. But still we never speak of this.
I am thinking that I will ask if he wants any friends to come over one evening. Do I dare? I am already getting excited at the thought of displaying myself to his friends. What is wrong with me?
(Part 2 will feature Anna’s first testimony. If there is enough interest, views and comments that is..)