The Catcher In The Den: The Full Series (ePub)

DESCRIPTION:
Tabitha catches her son and his best friend watching porn. It begins a forbidden sexual discovery. This is the story of a horny young mom daring to try the unknown taboo. Every mother has some dark passion within her soul—some hidden secret, desire or whim that may never surface to be seen even by the closest confidante. This is the full nine volumes of the 'Catcher In The Den' series.

EXCERPT:
Was it the fact that I was watching someone else's private home fantasy, or the fact that I was really watching and listening to my son, waiting to hear what he thought about me?

The moistness between my legs, the tingling of my flesh, and the strong compulsion to put my fingers inside of my pussy- which I was doing, I just realized, with the tip of my index finger slowly and gently toying with the outer folds of my sex- was not deniable. No matter what was the reason, I was standing here in the doorway between my den and my living room in the middle of the night.
       
Playing with yourself, and watching your son play with himself.
                                                  
“I do,” Destin answered finally, “Man, fuck, I do.”

“Of course,” Durrell said, in his natural smugness, “I do too, see?”

Durrell, without further ado, unzipped his pants, and exposed the turgid flesh of his risen manhood. In the dim light of the television glow, I was not able to see it as clearly as I would have liked to have seen it, (it had been so long since I'd seen another cock in real life!), but I could tell he was as impressive under his pants as he was under his shirt. Although I didn't have a “mental” ruler, his cock was at least as long as my hand, probably larger, and thick around as my fist.

“Uh, yeah,” Destin said, uncomfortably.

“It isn't no big deal, is it?” Durrell asked, “I mean, it ain't like you haven't seen another guys cock before?”

“Well, I,” Destin stammered.

I've known Durrell since my son had started school, the two boys were inseparable, and Durrell has always been the extreme one, the outgoing one; my son is the quiet introvert.

“Look, we're both adults,” Durrell said, “It ain't like I want you to suck it or anything like that. When I'm watching porn, I like to whack off.”

With that, Durrell's hand began to make the universal movements of male masturbation, slowly stroking the length of his dick, from tip to base, not waiting to see how my son would react. Durrell was going to stroke one off, and he didn't care who was watching.

I bet he'd like my hand on that cock!

As Durrell stroked himself, I now had two fingers inside of me, and I was beginning to work my way to my own orgasm. The two boys were lost in the film, and I was lost in the boys in front of me.

I want that dick in my mouth, I want to taste it.

No harm in fantasy is there?

I began to feel the warmth building up from my legs, creeping up the inside of my stomach, my nipples beginning to stiffen, the coolness of the room on my skin, the glow of the television; as I built towards orgasm, the world around me both faded away and became so much clearer, the details as sharp as butcher knife while the background was as fuzzy as an old tin type photograph...