Chapter 2
Jennifer had always found it strange to think of herself as the mother of a teenaged son. The years seemed to have flown by and now Ryan was almost a man. Almost. Not there yet, but moving fast. And he had eyes for her, too. She could see the way he looked at her when she was the least bit undressed in the house. For a long time she'd been thinking that maybe he was hooked on her. She'd heard about that happening to boys sometimes. They were turned on by their mothers, tangled up by daydreams and fantasies. Was Ryan like that? The way he looked at her these days made her think maybe he was.
One day she was in his room, putting away some of his clothes that had arrived from the cleaners, when she noticed the large cardboard box on the floor of the closet. The box had always been there and she'd never paid any attention to it. In the past she'd guessed that Ryan kept his old football equipment in the box. He had so much of that stuff lying around in all the closets and under the bed.
But now the top part of the box was open enough so that she could see inside. She was curious. She looked more closely. What she found was not football equipment but magazines. They were mostly sports magazines. She looked at a few of them and tossed them back in the box. Ryan didn't care about much else beside sports.
Or did he? What about women? What about all those girls who were calling him all the time? What about the way he looked at her? She shouldn't pry, she thought. But she had to see. She wanted to know more about this teenaged boy-man she had in the house. She noticed the smaller cardboard box beside the larger one, and now she reached down and opened the smaller box and she found what she'd thought she'd find. Ryan's collection of sex magazines.
She'd known about them for some time. She'd seen the first one nearly three years before and then one or two others since then. She always knew he had them. She knew every normal boy looked at sex magazines. He was growing up and he had a right to know all about sex. She'd looked at magazines like these herself on occasion. Now she idly picked up the top magazine and looked at the girl on the cover. A pretty blonde with a nice smile. Inside the magazine she'd be showing everything she had. Did Ryan like blondes? Jennifer noticed a paper clip attached to one of the pages. She opened the magazine to where the paper clip was attached and she felt a sudden fluttering in her belly.
Below the paper clip was a full-page photo of a woman. Not a blonde, but a brunette. And a woman with a startling resemblance to Jennifer herself. The resemblance was uncanny. They could easily be sisters, or even twins, for that matter. The woman in the photo could pass as Jennifer's twin.
And there the woman was, naked except for a garter belt and nylons, seated in an easy chair, one leg raised to plant her foot on the cushion, the other leg pulled to the side to show the camera the basics: cunt-bush and cunt and asshole and ass, everything out in the open to be looked at and admired.
Jennifer's belly fluttered again as she realized the woman's pussy might be hers, too. Their cunts were physically similar, the same abundance of dark hair, the same long gash between two thick lips. Jennifer had looked at her pussy often enough with a mirror to know what it looked like. The woman's clit was clearly visible and Jennifer saw that even there the resemblance was maintained.
Maybe it's me, she thought. Maybe she had two lives. No, the woman was someone else; but it didn't matter. Jennifer understood the significance of the paper clip. She understood why Ryan had bothered to mark this particular page. Ryan was as aware as Jennifer was that the woman in the photo strongly resembled his mother.
She knew something about boys his age. With or without girls, they jerked off all the time. Jennifer imagined Ryan holding the magazine in one hand while he pumped his cock with, the other hand. She imagined him jerking off while he looked at a picture that showed everything she had.
She shook her mind free of it and put the magazine back in the box. She told herself she couldn't blame him. He had a right to look at pictures of naked women, and if he found a picture of a woman that looked like his mother, she couldn't blame him for looking at it and being turned on by it. She pushed the hangers that held his clothes, and then suddenly she saw something that made her heart stop.
It was a hole. A small hole in the closet wall, the wall that separated Ryan's room from her own. She looked more closely at the hole. She could see what it was. She put her eye against the hole and she could see clearly into her own room. She could see her bed and almost all of the room, even the entrance to her bathroom.
Oh shit, Jennifer thought. She pulled back from the closet and sat down on the edge of Ryan's bed. She supposed on the other side of the wall the hole was near some furniture and difficult to notice. A peephole. Ryan had been spying on her.
And not to learn military secrets. To see her naked and God knew what else. She did things in her bedroom. Sometimes she masturbated and sometimes she slept with a man in there. She liked some light in the room when she had sex. If Ryan had been watching her through that peephole for some time, he'd most certainly seen her with a man. Just a few days ago she'd brought Paul into her bedroom after a date and they'd fucked up a storm on the bed.
You poor little bunny, she thought. Your own son has been watching you all the time.
First she felt anger. She felt herself trembling with anger as she sat there on Ryan's bed.
Then the anger gave way to dismay. How awful it was. It was so embarrassing. How could she face him again? How could she look at his eyes when now she knew what he'd seen?
Then she thought of the photo of the woman in the magazine, the woman who resembled her so remarkably. And she thought of the way Ryan had been looking at her these days. Days and months. Such a hot look. She couldn't sit down without his eyes on her legs. She had to keep her robe tightly belted to avoid his eyes staring down her neckline. But through that peephole he'd seen everything. He'd seen her naked, he'd seen her fingers in her pussy when she masturbated, he'd seen Paul fucking her.
Ryan, I hate you.
No, she didn't hate him, it turned her on. She sat there and trembled again when she analyzed what it did to her. It turned her on. After the anger and dismay, now she found the idea of it exciting. Ryan spying on her, watching her while she did things. She found it incredibly exciting.
Oh dear God, she thought.