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Tuesday night found Francine reflecting about her husband Stan leaving the country in the morning for his "business trip" to Afghanistan.

'Damn it! I'm going to be flying solo for a few weeks. I have been soooo horny lately. I guess tonight is my last chance to have Stan fuck me real good and hard before being left to my own devices. Thank God we have the house to ourselves, with the kids out with their friends for the evening. Stan should be home from the office in about an hour.' she thought as she walked up the stairs to her bedroom.

Stan had neglected to replace the burned out bulbs in the upstairs hallway light as she had reminded him, so Francine was once more forced to feel her way to her bedroom door.

"That man is useless for fixing anything around the house." She muttered as she opened the door, flicked her room light on and crossed to the walk-in closet and pulled open the doors.

She decided to take a shower, slip into some sexy lingerie and surprise Stan when he got home. Walking to the back corner of the closet she took down a favorite sexy robe, a thin see through number that concealed nothing.

Francine grabbed a pair of sexy heels as she made her way to her lingerie drawer, where she pulled out a black garter belt and matching stockings. "He'll fuck me silly when he comes home and sees me wearing this." She mused as she made her way to her bedside table, no longer mad at her husband for not changing the light bulbs.

Francine reached in and felt around before pulling out a joint she had rolled a few days earlier. She smoked the joint down, chasing after it and cooling her throat with several hard pulls from a chilled bottle of Mikes Hard Lemonade she had brought up from the kitchen.

As she made her way across the room, a naughty thought came to her, bringing a mischievous smile to her beautiful face. Without thinking twice, she strolled to the two windows of her bedroom, pulled the blinds up and opened the windows without closing the blinds. The gauzy curtains floated in the breeze.

'Who knows,' she smiled, 'maybe some lucky boy across the street or driving by gets a hot show tonight.'

Stripping out of her clothes in the bathroom as she finished her drink, Francine paused in front of the full length mirror. Bombed from the effects of the weed and booze, she admired her image, wearing just a red bra and matching panties.

"You still got it baby!" she told her reflection with a silly grin. Turning around and looking over her shoulder at her ass, she remarked "You're looking pretty good Francine Smith for a thirty-eight year old mother of two teens!"

Turning on the shower, and adjusting the temperature to her liking, she stepped inside and stood for a long moment, just letting the jets of water caress her back before grabbing the soap and getting to work. When she was finished, she stepped out, snatched a towel and dried her body.

She then dried and styled her hair and put on the black garter belt, stockings and four inch tall heels before slipping her transparent white robe over her shoulders, letting it cascade down over her stunning tits.

Strolling back into her bedroom, Francine made a concious effort to pass her opened windows, her breasts jigglling with each step. Her dark, silver dollar-sized areolas were pronouncedly visible beneath the thin, transparent material of the sexy white robe as she looked out into the dark night.

Francine strolled to her mirror once more, admiring the effect that her barely concealed nakedness produced. Stan had bought the robe for her for Valentines a few years ago, but she had never worn it. She had always thought in the past that it made her look slutty. Tonight she wanted to wear the poker oyna robe precisely for that reason.

As she leisurely puffed the last tokes of another joint to freshen her buzz, Francine heard the unmistakable sound of a powerful stride coming up the stairs towards her bedroom.

"Oh Shit! Stan's home already! I'm not ready; I haven't thought of how I'm going to surprise him yet!" she panicked as she quickly put out her joint, sprayed the room with Febreze and looked to the bedroom door.

"Shit! And I wanted this surprise to be sooo awesome." Without further thought she rushed to the bedroom door, smiled a seductive smile and turned the knob.

On the other side of the neighborhood visiting a friend, Francine Smith's son Steve had not felt well all afternoon and wanted to just go home and go to bed. He was running a bit of a fever, and being somewhat of a hypochondriac, he was totally preoccupied in his thoughts and concerns as he walked up the sidewalk to the front door of the family home.

Letting himself into the house, Steve closed the door behind him and tried to turn on the upstairs hallway light before walking up the dark stairs towards his bedroom. Like most teenagers he had no concept of how to walk quietly. Even in his fevered state he made enough noise in the dark staircase to raise the dead. As he stomped up the stairs, he gave no thought to the fact that he might disturb his parents.

As he woozily made his way down the pitch-black hallway, feeling his way to his room, he was suddenly blinded by light when the door to his parent's room unexpectedly swung open. He squinted, his eyes tightly closing from the brightness of the light as a sexy female voice called out.

"Hey big boy. Know where a girl can find a good hard cock to suck tonight?"

Steve came to an abrupt halt. He stood frozen, suddenly confronted with the curvaceous silhouette of his mother, clad only in a very revealing sheer robe. Her garter belt and everything else were on display.

Hearing no response to her question, the horny and slightly stoned Mom tried to peer into the darkness of the hallway, a hand on one hip and leaning the other shoulder against the door jamb. She was backlit from the ceiling light in her bedroom, her spectacular body clearly revealed through the transparent fabric of her very revealing robe.

After a few seconds Francine realized that she was not facing her husband, but instead her teenage son. She hurriedly stood upright, her eyes opened wide and the smile quickly fading from her lips. "Steve! I...uh...I...I thought you were your father. He's supposed to be home. I was going to...um...I wanted to surprise him." she tried to explain, completely off guard and flustered.

"What are you doing home so early anyway?" she asked, instinctively attempting to cover up by laying her left arm across her midsection and holding her robe tightly together, slightly off kilter. To cover-up more she laid her right arm diagonally across her chest, grasping her left shoulder with her right hand while resting that elbow on her left wrist.

Steve just stood, his eyes roaming over his mother's unconcealed nakedness. "I'm so sick I must be hallucinating." He mumbled just loud enough for his mother to hear.

The scene before him was almost too much for his young mind to compute. Sure, he had seen every feature of his mother's intensely hot body lately through the lens of his camera, but that was while he was in hiding. Now he found himself standing face to face, not six feet from the object of so much of his intense teenage lust.

He stared intently, noting how his mother's robe molded to her perfect body, the sheer white material allowing her son to see her big nipples; round, canlı poker oyna hard, and dark. He admired how her breasts were so large they would overfill his hands if only somehow he could get his hands on them.

Lower, below her waist he could make out her inviting brunette bush between her legs. The appearance of her pubic hair still puzzled him. At his age, finishing his Junior year of High School in just a little over two weeks, it had never occurred to him that a person's pubic hair color would not match the hair on their head.

One fact was clear as he drank in the image before him; his mother really was a hot woman, gorgeous and desirable in every way. While her face was beginning to show a hint of maturity, it was subtle enough to merely suggest that she was a woman and no longer a girl.

Her arms and legs were well toned, with discernibly cut muscles from years of yoga and aerobics classes. Steve noted that her calf muscles were flexed to perfection at the moment while she balanced atop her tall stripper heels.

His eyes continued their trip up her legs. Her strong thighs curved naturally into what would best be described as a bubble butt. Several of his friends had leeringly described it as a black girls butt, and Steve was not sure they were incorrect.

He scanned up past her tight little waist above her flared hips, probably not giving that feature of his mother the attention it deserved. But who could blame him when his eyes came to rest on her stupendous breasts.

Breasts? More like the most perfect set of tits he had ever seen, he quickly corrected himself. 38DD according to the tags on the bras he had seen in the laundry room, they deserved to be called anything that was less clinical than breasts. Tits, Juggs, Boobs; anything other than breasts.

He was beginning to take note that she exuded a sexuality that was cruelly intoxicating. He was sure she could hold her own with any busty porn star on the internet.

"I asked what you are doing home so early young man?" she repeated breathlessly. She had allowed him to ogle her for well over thirty seconds, the sexual tension in the room ratcheting up .

"Uhmm. I'm not feeling good. I don't feel good at all." was his feeble response as he leaned against the hallway wall and drank in her image.

Her entire body trembled slightly as she gazed down at herself, blushing with a sudden, intense exhilaration at how obscenely revealing her robe was; and how she had made no real attempt at covering up. She stood for several seconds, transfixed, as if unable to cover her veiled nakedness.

Suddenly, she raised her right hand and took two quick steps towards her son, causing him to recoil from what he perceived to be an oncoming flurry of face slaps for gawking at her while she was dressed so provocatively.

"Poor baby." She cooed, placing her right hand on his forehead while circling his waist with her left and pulling him tight to her. "You are burning up. Your head feels so hot."

In a normal pair of shoes Francine Smith would stand slightly taller than her son. Tonight in her provocative heels, her chin could rest on the top of his forehead. The net effect pushed her hard nipples to just below her son's shoulders. Francine's knees nearly buckled at the boldness of her move as she pressed her breasts into her son's upper chest with a concerned look on her face.

"Your forehead is clammy, and you're shaking like a leaf." She said softly.

Steve Smith's heart was suddenly racing one hundred miles an hour as he felt the two hardened nubs of her nipples pressing obscenely into his chest as his mother pulled him close.

"Let Mommy help you to bed." She sweetly whispered in his ear before pulling internet casino her head back and looking into his eyes. "I know it is probably making you uncomfortable seeing me dressed like this, so just close your eyes and I'll guide you to your bed, OK sweetie?" She asked before placing a loving peek on his check.

Steve gulped loudly, closed his eyes and shook his head in quick defeat. He had tried so hard for so many years to catch a glimpse of his beautiful mother in a compromising situation in person, just like this, and now he was chickening out.

Francine turned her son around, placing her right hand on his shoulder and her left on his waist. "Careful sweetie," she cooed. "We don't want you to fall." She pulled him tight to her chest and began walking.

'I can't believe I'm pressing my nearly naked body into Steve.' She swooned as she walked him slowly toward his bed, her heart beating hard and her pussy beginning to run.

As they entered his room Francine spotted the wide mirror over his desk, beside his bed. "Now Steve please promise me you won't peek at Mommy in the big mirror beside your bed; because I can't cover up." She said softly in his ear, knowing full well that he would not be able to resist the temptation.

"I promise Mom." He lied, as he peeked an eye open. The image that meet his gaze nearly caused him to freeze in place. His mother was walking slowly beside him, her sheer robe flapping open in the breeze of her motion.

Too soon for Steve, they arrived at his bed. "Sit down Steve and I'll take off your shoes for you; but keep your eyes closed."

Steve nodded in agreement and stuck out his left foot, even as he continued to squint at this mom. Continuing with her supposedly innocent duties, Francine Smith squatted down on her tall heels; her knees spread wide as she removed first one, and then his other track shoe.

"Stand up Steve." His mother ordered softly.

Unsure of where this was going, Steve did as instructed. Before he knew what was going on, he felt a hand grasping on the front button at his waist, and another hand quickly yanking down his zipper.

"You can't go to bed in your jeans silly." His mother laughed.

Before she knew what he was doing, Steve quickly fell backwards into his bed, grabbing his blanket and pulling it over his tidy whities. Francine found herself still holding the waist of his jeans, now bunched down around his ankles.

'Aw; isn't that cute.' She thought to herself as she pulled off his jeans and socks. 'He's probably embarrassed for me to see his little dick; all hard.'

As she stood up she saw he was still squinting down at her, pretending to have his eyes closed. "Good night Steve. I hope you feel better in the morning." the sexually frustrated mother told him as she left and stepped back across the hallway, closing the door to her room, leaving her son in his room alone with his thoughts.

The lasting vision in Steve's horny teen-age brain was of his mom's big tits bouncing and jiggling as she retreated from his bedroom, recoiling away from him, in his mind. "I can't believe I blew it by staring at her." He muttered to himself softly. "And what if she had seen I had a woodie? She might have laughed at me. How mortifying that would have been."

A flood of erotic feelings began to further swell his groin. As usual, it took a while for him to achieve a full erection. "I don't think most guys my age take this long to get fully hard." he pondered, while worrying if he was a freak.

Maybe it was the disappointment of his bad luck. Sure, he felt a twinge of guilt, but he pushed that aside because his mother's complete sexiness over-rode the fact that she was, well, his mother.

Inside her room, Francine Smith staggered against her bedroom door.

'Oh my God! That was the same rush I felt the other night at the restaurant; and in the parking lot; and in the bookstores. But with Steve?'