The Light in Motherąs Window

We were horny young guys just past the cusp of puberty. It was summer holidays and we were allowed to stay out far past the falling of darkness. It was the late forties and kids were safe in the streets, even in a working class neighborhood like ours. Women on our street all stayed home keeping house and raising their broods while their husbands worked twelve-hour days to make a living. The heat of July baked the houses during the day and kept the screened windows wide open all night to attract the slightest breeze. Throughout the hot months, the young wives wore shorts, modest halters and colorful bandannas that kept the hair up off their necks. We were at an age where we knew which halters held the nicest tits and which shorts were snug enough to make us giddy. They were in the houses that we came back to each night, prowling quietly out of sight near the lighted windows. Occasionally, we would catch a glimpse of someone we admired getting into the bath. Usually, it didnąt matter who we saw. The thrill was in spying on someone naked, violating their privacy without them knowing. After, weąd nearly bust a gut trying to suppress our laughter at being so bold and outrageous. By 10.30 the younger crowd was off the streets and the older guys hung out beneath the street lights. They smoked and talked quietly while the moths buzzed around the bare bulb. They were a lot tougher than us and we treated them with great deference. Envious of their privileges, and anxious to prove ourselves, we emulated everything about them. One night, when the air was particularly muggy, I lay awake on top of the oppressive blankets and listened to the sounds of the summer night. >From far down on the road I could hear the muted voices of Tom Dory and his friends swapping lies and trading laughs as they did most every night. I wanted badly to be old enough to join them but I knew they didnąt give me the time of day. The window sill brought me a little closer to the voices and I strained to hear what was being said. Since I wouldnąt be welcome in the group, eavesdropping seemed to offer the next best thing. The screen was loose and the urge to sneak up on them proved overwhelming.

Beneath my bare feet the dew soaked lawn felt foreign and exotic licking between my toes. I crept to the corner of the house and peered down onto the street below. The rendezvous was empty and the voices gone. Then, from the back of our garage, there was a muffled sound like someone stumbling followed by the hiss of hushing as others cautioned for silence. Terrified, I crouched near the stoop where my mother stood to hang out the clothes. Four shadowy figures made their way over to near where I was hidden. Tom Dory was the only one I recognized. The others listened as he told them where the window was. He had obviously been there before and I was stunned to realize they were there to spy on my mother. Tom bragged about how much he had seen of her, describing her body in graphic detail. He knew her habits better than I did. When he began to tell them how heąd watched her playing with herself I knew that I should rise and defend her honor, but I didnąt. Instead, I listened to his description and got hard. The moment they disappeared around the corner of the house I popped out from under the stoop and went around the other way. There was a shed near her bedroom window and a place where I could watch unseen. Tom and his friends were already buried in the shadows near the window and had no idea I was even there. What surprised me was that the blind was wide open just as Tom had said it would be. The light on the bedside table filled the room with light. My mother was propped up with pillows reading a book and sipping from a glass of soda. She was wearing lipstick and I could see that her cheeks were lightly rouged. That struck me as strange because she hadnąt been wearing makeup when I had said goodnight. As if on cue, she suddenly marked her page and put her book down. She took a long pull at her soft drink and got up off the bed. In spite of the heat, she had changed out of her shorts and was wearing a dress. The buttons down the back were hard to reach and her breasts pressed out against the material as she reached back to undo them. From where she was standing at the bottom of the bed, it was less than ten feet to where Tom and his friends were watching. She faced the window squarely. The thin straps of the summer dress slipped down her arms letting the bodice fall away . There was no bra to delay her tits from tumbling into view. Not overly large, but well shaped, they were crowned with brownish nipples that swelled out like plump acorns. She gathered the skirt in her hands and inched it up until it was above her waist. As if uncertain what to do next, she strolled back and forth in front of the window affording an unobstructed view of her prancing ass clad only in sexy underwear. The pale skin above her stockings made the black silk panties seem even darker. Garters stretched out of the leg holes and held the stockings up. Wisps of cunt hair poked out of the same holes, in a preview of what was to come. She sat down to take the dress off. Her legs angled off the end of the bed and stretched toward the window. The edge of the mattress propped up her behind. The panties stretched tight across her flat stomach and her breasts jiggled like rounded scoops of jello. Her thighs rolled apart and her panties molded tightly against her mound outlining every detail in black silk. She was moist and the shiny fabric clung to every contour. She ran her finger along the rift pushing the material inside until the lips were clearly embossed in the underwear. Only then did she inch them down, unveiling an unruly auburn thatch that grew copiously on the swell of her mound. I had seen it before when she changed into a bathing suit in the family car but that was only a glimpse. This time she was purposely posed, happily displaying her treasure for all to see. Around the opening, the hair was already drenched and lay flat. The lips stood out prominently and glistened with her lubricant. The vulva appeared slack and retreating, letting the inner lips pout like a blossom ready to burst. Her fingers brushed along the petals urging them to part. She found her clit floating in a sea of juice and moved it back and forth with her fingertip. Her hips pulsed to the rhythm of her finger. I could have sworn that she was looking right at Tom and his friends as she gazed out the window. She even smiled as she repeatedly touched the tip of her finger to her tongue, sensuously transferring the moisture to her clit. >From where they watched every fold of moist pink flesh was visible to them. A noise from the street stopped her momentarily while she listened. It was my father coming home. Quickly she stripped off the stockings and garter belt and pushed them under the bed with the dress. She lay back on the pillows and focused on her book. As an afterthought, she got up and lowered the blind two thirds before returning to the bed. He seemed quite pleased to find her naked. She was affectionate and cooperative when he touched her. They made love on top of the covers and we watched and listened to her writhe on his cock and pant like she couldnąt get her breath. She came twice in rapid succession, throwing her cunt against him and begging him Śto fuck herą. When he laid his head on the pillow she straddled him facing his feet and looking toward the window. Knees splayed wide, she nestled her pussy onto his waiting mouth. She had a feline quality about her as she contentedly rocked her genitals against his dancing tongue. There was a look of ecstasy on her face and she smiled and winked knowingly at the window. We couldnąt hear what he said but she smiled again and lowered her head to attend his neglected prick. It was like a gourmet feast the way she bathed it with her tongue, nibbling hungrily at the head and slurping noisily along the stalk. His balls looked like kiwi fruit in the palm of her graceful hand. She licked them unhurriedly, wantonly grinding her pelvis in a prelude to yet another orgasm. Her tongue criss crossed the plum shaped head of his cock making it twitch in anticipation. With ovalled lips she captured it, hollowing her cheeks and drawing hard, stroking the shaft with tantalizing fingers. Each time her head dipped, she took more of him into her mouth until her lips brushed his pubic hair on every downward plunge. I was amazed at how much cock should could actually take in her mouth. His hands had left her thighs and now framed the sides of her face. With powerful strokes he arched up to meet the descending slide of her ravenous mouth. Every muscle in his body tensed. A deep groan announced his climax. Her indented cheeks puffed outwards and she dutifully swallowed his come. He was exhausted, but she wasnąt ready to quit. She held his tortured cock in her hands and watched it shrink like a demon conquered. Her ass still moved over his face demanding to be licked. The tip of her tongue plucked the last drop of semen from its tiny opening and spread it sensuously on her smiling lips. She was coming again almost instantly. A few nights later, my Dad caught Tommy Dory peeking in her window. There was hell to pay and the whole street knew about it. Few could resist a few snickering jokes about Śpeeping Tomą. But, aside from Tommyąs disgrace, the main message in the neighborhood was that my mother didnąt pull her blinds. Curfew came earlier for the rest of the summer, and even the older guys didnąt congregate beneath the streetlight any more. Still, the loose screen on my bedroom window got a workout almost every night. I prowled the neighborhood shadows with my friends until the last light was extinguished. Whereas before there had been only the occasional titillating sight, now there were a few more blinds carelessly agape. We found a favorite on a neighboring street and watched almost nightly as she entertained men in her bedroom. Her husband was a cop and worked nights walking a beat downtown. Our house was the last one at the end the road, up on a bit of a hill and backing on to a maple wood lot. Coming home from our nightly excursions, we always approached by one of the many paths through the trees. My motherąs blinds were always open and quite often there would be someone there watching. One muggy night we were already there behind the shed when two shadowy figures crept along the side of the house. They nestled back against the bushes close to where we were hidden. In the dim reflected light from the window we could clearly see that it was Ray and Muriel, Tommyąs mother and dad. Inside the house, my mother was trying on clothes. She wore no underwear and wriggling into the garments let her move her tits and ass in a very provocative way. Ray and Muriel stood nestled together like spoons with him wrapping her in his arms from behind. She wore the shorts and halter that was de riguer for such sultry nights and Ray wasted no time in baring her trembling tits. She was bigger there than my mom and I heard her whisper that fact to her husband. Rayąs hand was already in the front of her shorts and she had to undo the button to keep it from popping. Her own hand had found the stiff cylinder in Rayąs pants and they frigged each other while watching my mother sway naked in front of her mirror. They were close enough to us that we could smell Murieląs musk as Ray pulled down her shorts. We were enthralled to hear the lubricious click of his fingers as they slid in and out of her. The scene through the window had moved to the bed and my motherąs fingers stroked sensuously between her legs. Murieląs panties lay on the grass and Ray had replaced his fingers with the real thing. Muriel talked dirtier as she got more excited. She marveled at the thick hair on my motherąs cunt and we grinned to hear her say the word so clearly. The notion of sucking my motherąs pussy was whispered to her by Ray and she almost swooned at the thought. On the bed my mother was coming again and her belly convulsed with self adulating pleasure. It was too much for Ray and Muriel and they came right along with her. Behind the shed we held our breath and squeezed our pricks, terrified that discovery, after what we had seen, would be calamitous. That night, was enough to cause weak eyes, warts and hairy palms, if ever it was going to happen. Our imaginations filled in the blanks and let us conjure thoughts of Murieląs mouth licking between my motherąs legs. Weąd heard her say sheąd do it, wanted it, even craved it. Each time we saw her in church dressed in Sunday best and ovalling her lips to sing, we thought of her rounded ass pumping against Ray. The image of her getting frigged and fucked, lusting for the taste of another womanąs cunt, gave substance to our pubescent fantasies. My mother never did learn to pull the blinds, but then I never thought she would. Her greatest joy was being watched from the darkness and not knowing who was hidden out there.