Watching Mom and Her Lover


As an introduction, let me say upfront in my younger days I was a Peeping Tom, with Tom coincidentally being my name. I did manage to get some peeks at neighbors and the Moms of some of my friends over the years but my main source of voyeuristic entertainment was my Mom and Dad.

They had sex every Saturday night like clockwork, waiting until after I went to sleep to go in and screw. I used to stand by the door and listen, but after doing some exploration in our old house, I discovered something even better.

There was a room in the rear of the house that I don’t think anybody knew about. I think it used to house the furnace of a previous heating system but it had been sheet-rocked over at some point long ago with only a crawlspace square hidden behind the current hot water heater giving a hint to it being there.

I discovered it this one day, and when I got in there I noticed that there was a grate that must have been used to pump heat into my folks bedroom up near the ceiling. Getting a step stool in there, I found that it afforded a perfect view of my parents bedroom, being right behind the bed and looking out over the room.

After a little work I had devised a place to sit way up high and was tempted to put a little refrigerator in there so I could enjoy the show in style but never did. I did clean up the dusty room though after I sneezed one night, but luckily Mom was yelping at the time so it didn’t get noticed.

What did I do besides look? Guess. In addition to being a serial voyeur by the age of 18 I was also a chronic masturbating machine, since my love life was almost non-existent. So I was in heaven, at least on Saturday nights, although I did use the room other times to watch my Mom dress and undress.

I had a thing for my Mom, who was cute and looked a little like the Mom on The Partridge Family. For about 50, she was looking good. She had great breasts, or at least I thought they were. I remember the first time I saw that bra come off and her tits swung out.

They didn’t really droop, but kinda swooped out in a way it’s hard to describe. Kind of like banana boobs only with a upturn at the conical ends that were all aureola. To think I sucked on them as a babe only made it hotter.

Now in the summer of 1979 I was enjoying the break between high school and college, while my Mom spent the time urging me to get a job or at least look for one to get out from underfoot. She had been acting a bit odd about it, and I began to think that maybe she was having an affair.

In retrospect my parents were only together for my sake I’m sure, and my father was a cheater from way back, with my Mom finding condoms in his suitcase after his business trips a few times which would start epic wars, although that didn’t change Saturday nights.

The greatest show I ever saw wasn’t on Saturday night but instead on a Wednesday afternoon. I usually went down to the town field and played pickup baseball all day with the guys, but on this particular day it looked like rain and I could tell Mom wasn’t happy about it.

After I mentioned that it was starting to drizzle and figured I would hang around the house all day because we couldn’t play, Mom suggested that I go to the movies. She grabbed the paper and looked rather frantically for the movie schedule and proceeded to tell me what was playing and what times they started.

Even for somebody as thick as I sometimes was, this was painfully obvious. Diane Lombard you rascal, I chuckled to myself as I made her work to get rid of me. I tried to be unimpressed with the selection while she tried to sell these movies like a carnival barker.

“You know, I do want to see Alien,” I said, and when her eyes lit up I added that Rocky II was also showing, and I could see them both because of the way the matinee schedule was set up.

“Too bad I’m broke,” I mumbled, which had Mom digging into her purse and stuffing money in my hand, adding some extra in case I wanted to get something to eat.

“Thanks,” I said and then I set out on my bike toward the mall a few miles away, a trip I had no intention of making.

Instead I stopped at the store and got a big soda before winding my way back to my neighborhood. Stashing my bike at a friend’s house, I ran through the drizzle until I got back home. About an hour had passed, and I would have to sneak in the back and into my peeping room to find out whether I had been right or not about Mom.

I had been right as rain because when I looked in, Mom was there and so was her lover.


I took my jeans and underwear off as usual and positioned myself on the perch, with my jar of Vaseline, box of tissues and the rest of my soda within reach. What Rocky movie could top this?

There were voices coming from the bedroom, and I will admit that the only drawback to this set-up was that sometimes I couldn’t hear all that well. I had nudged the bed around over time so it was in a prime position but there was nothing I could Betturkey do to hear better. Then again, on Saturday nights Mom and Dad were trying to keep quiet (Mom’s yelping excluded) while today for all they knew the place was empty.

I hadn’t missed anything because Mom had just locked the bedroom door and was over near the bed with her back to the dresser, chatting and smiling with her lover. Was this the first time, or had this been going on for a while? So much I didn’t know. What I did know what that this guy who was sitting on the end of the bed with his back to me was nothing like Dad.

Even before he took his blue work shirt off I could see his shoulders were huge, and after he kicked off his shoes and pulled that shirt off, I stifled a gasp. This guy’s shoulders were muscular and his back was broad. There were tattoos on his back, one large one of a panther snarling and swinging a paw caught my interest, and it looked like he had a tattoo on his arm too but I couldn’t see that yet.

The man who I figured was a bodybuilder or something, had short black hair slicked back that showed clearly that he had a neck like a bull. If my Dad ever walked in on this I hoped he would run the other way because I suspected this guy would tear his head off and crap down his neck if challenged.

I had inherited a few things from Dad, mostly with me being shy and meek like him, although a prematurely receding hairline and a small dick bothered me more. That was when I started wondering whether this guy had a big cock or not. Not that I was all that interested for myself, but my Mom was so tiny that the thought of this Ivan Putski prototype splitting her in two made me shudder.

Mom for her part, was doing what she thought was a provocative striptease for this guy, but he liked it because he was making that known by clapping and whistling. Mom’s panties came down, revealing that little pussy with the tiny wisp of light brown hair around the lips, and then the guy stood up.

I guessed by the way he was moving that he was undoing his belt, with Mom now leaning back against the dresser naked and biting her lower lip like she did when she was nervous. The guy’s blue trousers dropped to the carpet, and as he stepped out of them I could see the muscles in his calves ripple. I was so close I could see the hair on the back of those true-trunk thighs, and I remember thinking that his boxer shorts were weird looking because they were so tight, but then things got crazy.

When the light bulb went on above my head, I’m not exactly sure. It was sometime around when he started moving towards Mom as his boxers were dropping to reveal a wide firm ass as he reached out to Mom with those muscular arms about to wrap around little old Mom.

Whenever it was, it was lucky that my shoulder was leaning against a wall or else I might have fallen down and fainted. It didn’t stop my head from spinning though when I started to get a look at this guy from a different angle.

It was then I learned that this guy who was my Mom’s lover wasn’t a man at all, but a woman.


Not a very feminine woman to put it mildly, but there was no doubt that he was a she, and not only that, I knew her.

Saying I knew her was a bit of a stretch but I did know of her, since she was a bit of a minor celebrity around town a few years back. This woman, whose name was Maggie something, had become famous for becoming the first woman bus driver in our area. This being a rather backward area, it took little to become famous.

The joke that went around went something like people saying that they thought there was a woman driving buses around town but nobody had seen her yet, and that was a not-too subtle dig at her appearance.

I had ridden a few buses that she was driving, and she still look rather – I’m not sure of the right word – severe maybe? She had Nordic features and always looked angry although she was pleasant and polite. She was smiling now through as her and Mom hugged.

Mom looked like a baby in Maggie’s arms, those biceps bigger than Mom’s thighs. The bus driver was about a head taller than Mom, and as she moved around with her butt against the dresser Mom’s waif-like frame hid little of the Amazon from my view.

I guess Maggie still her her boxers around her ankles because Mom knelt down and pulled them free of her feet. Maggie was a woman alright, I noted as I enjoyed a brief unobstructed of the woman from the front.

The first thing I noticed was that the bus driver’s head seemed tiny, which was probably because of the thick neck and massive shoulders it rested on. She had interesting breasts; tits the size of grapefruits resting on the swollen pectorals but nipples not much larger than mine.

Her stomach wasn’t quite a washboard but was flat and fit, but it was below the navel that got my attention because Mom’s lover had a really hairy pussy. Not a wisp of hair like Mom’s or even a nice triangle like Les Carson’s Betturkey Giriş Mom had, but more like a jungle, the dense looking forest spilling out onto the insides of her ripped thighs.

Mom had gotten to her feet and was busy lavishing attention on the bus driver’s breasts, and I would be lying if I said this wasn’t hot to look at. Mom looked to be in heat as she was slobbering and sucking on one while massaging the other one.

Maggie was laughing, and after taking Mom’s face in her hands and kissing her passionately she let her go back to working over her tits while running her hand through Mom’s strawberry blonde hair.

Mom said something that made Maggie laugh, and then the Amazon took her hand from Mom’s hair and swung it over, flexing and making a muscle that Mom’s hand squeezed, or at least tried to.

“Never did that to Dad,” I mumbled to myself as I looked at Mom kissing the bulging bicep, because Dad was a skinny twerp like me.

I had noticed – it would have been impossible not to – that when the bus driver had flexed her bicep her armpit came into view. An armpit that not surprisingly given the rest of Maggie, was unshaven, and when I say that I don’t mean that she had forgotten to shave for a few days.

Maggie’s armpits were full of hair, dense black tufts of hairs that were longer that those on her head, and I was stunned when after Mom got done kissing Maggie’s bicep she nibbled her way down until her face was buried in the jungle that filled the muscled crater.

Maggie was laughing as Mom did whatever she was doing – it looked like kissing and licking what had seemed like an already moist forest before Mom had even started – and Mom must have liked doing it because she shifted over to the other side soon after.

Then Maggie was reaching down and lifting Mom up, the Amazon’s hands in Mom’s underarms that probably got shaved everyday and twice on Sunday because of Mom’s fastidiousness (which made her wild frenzy over Maggie’s unshorn pits all the more strange) and then gently dropping her on her back onto the bedding.

“Show me that sweet cunt.”

That I heard quite clearly because Maggie’s voice was loud and deep, and while from where I was all I could see was Mom’s legs parting, the Amazon got a perfect view of Mom as she spread for her before climbing on the bed.

The near crewcut and the bus driver’s eyes were all I could see as she ate Mom’s pussy, using her hands under Mom’s butt to lift her and get deep down between her legs. Mom came in a few minutes, way louder than I was used to hearing, and after a second more calm orgasm Maggie came up from between Mom’s legs, her face flushed.

“I know what you want now,” Maggie declared as she ran her hands through that wild bush while knee-walking up towards the headboard of the bed to straddle Mom’s face. “You want to suck Mama’s hairy cunt, don’t you?”

I heard a muffled response as Maggie dropped her crotch onto Mom’s face, but I was leaning backward because as she had her hands on the headboard and started to ride Mom’s face like it was a saddle, this had put the bus driver’s head so close to the vent that I got scared. If I could see in…

For the time being I only took short peeks out as the bed kept squeaking while Mom let Maggie use her face as a seat. When I heard Maggie’s voice start to get frantic I risked another look and was rewarded with seeing Maggie’s body writhing as she grabbed at her scalp looking much like Thor as she had what seemed like a hell of an orgasm.

The two then eased next to each other and embraced, and it was then that I took inventory. My soda was nearly gone and I was as sweaty as Mom and her lover were, with a number of sticky tissues the evidence of my activity.

I had to admit it. I was as turned on by Mom’s lover as I was Mom, maybe more. Maggie was so unconventional looking that I found her as erotic as hell. Muscles and hair where women weren’t suppose to have either would have seemed weird to me before but seeing her like this was much different.

The two eventually got up and took a shower, which they needed because they were both sweating like pigs, the combination of the humid day and their activity making the bedroom a steam bath.

Soon the two emerged, which Mom seeming to be a little dry but Maggie still glistening. Mom had a towel and for the next few minutes proceeded to dry her lover off, and it was done so sensuously that it was almost like Mom was worshiping the Amazon’s body, using the towel like a polishing cloth on a statue.

Mom said something and then Maggie turned around and faced the dresser, placing her hands on the top and spreading her tree-trunk legs. Mom dried the furry backs of Maggie’s thighs – I had noticed that Maggie had hairy legs although not nearly as furry as her pussy and pits and it looked like she had shaved her lower legs around her ankles – and then Mom dabbed the towel in her butt crack.

Again Mom said something Betturkey Güncel Giriş I couldn’t make out, at which point Maggie bent over more and really spread her legs apart. I thought that Mom was going to dry the Amazon’s back door but then I noticed that she no longer had the towel in her hand.

“Mom?” I mumbled while her hands grabbed what looked like rock hard buttocks and spread them apart while moving her face into what looked like a very furry place.

“Yeah, you know what I like,” Maggie was grunting as Mom tried to put her whole head between the cheeks, and even with my very limited knowledge I knew what Mom was doing and even though her head blocked my view I kept looking.

Maggie kept groaning while I sat there, not disgusted but jacking like a chimp with my face pressed against the grate while Mom rimmed this bus driver, lapping her hairy asshole like it was an ice cream cone.

I came about then, and as I did I looked over the two of them and noticed I could see Maggie’s face clearly in the mirror. Just as clearly I could see her looking at the mirror up in my general direction.

Flying backwards and out of sight, I wondered whether she could have seen me, but when no screaming or reaching up through the grate to drag my snooping ass out for a beating followed, I peeked back out.

The two of them had gone back to the bed, with Maggie on her stomach and Mom kneeling next to her pouring oil all over the bus driver’s back side before giving her a massage. I had seen Mom give Dad a massage once but his was nothing like this, probably because Maggie was nothing like Dad.

By the time Maggie had rolled over and Mom had started to massage the front of the Amazon my dick was hard again. Mom seemed infatuated by Maggie’s arms and shoulders, spending a lot of time and love in kneading those areas. The oil, much like the sweat made those muscles look even more well defined and pasted the thick fur to the skin.

After Mom finished she bent down and kissed Maggie, and after the bus driver’s oily hands rubbed Mom’s back she went to the closet and rummaged around some before emerging with a bag. Maggie got off the bed and took the bag from Mom and pulled stuff out of it while Mom got on the bed and started rubbing lubricant into her crotch.

When I looked back up Maggie had already hooked some kind of harness around her hips and was attaching something to the front. A cock, already glistening with oil, and after Maggie adjusted the belt securely around herself she climbed on the bed.

“A lot bigger than I’m used too,” I heard Mom say, and the dick that was heading between her legs certainly was that, although when the bus driver mounted Mom she took the rubbery dong with no problem.

Maggie thrust into Mom hard and fast, but nothing like she did after briefly uncoupling to put Mom on her hands and knees before mounting her from behind.

“Who makes you cum?” Maggie was snarling as she grabbed Mom’s hair and pulled her head backward, partly to keep her skull from hitting the headboard as well as probably establishing control of my mother.

“You do baby,” Mom cried, her face twisted as her head got yanked back. “You and your big cock!”

Maggie was screaming as she brutally fucked my Mom, damn near breaking the bed as Mom came while screaming like a banshee, with me looking down at the savage assault that would end with passionate hugging and kissing.

The Amazon, slick with oil, sweat and pussy, was wild-eyed as she held onto Mom’s hips while driving that 8″ dong deeper than Dad’s ever could and making her cum like he could only dream doing, and then as Mom cried out that she couldn’t take any more, the bus driver’s eyes came back to the grate.


I got out of my hiding place and got dressed, slithering out into the steam bath that the outside had become following the rain, and after getting my bike spent the next couple of hours in the woods to wait an appropriate time before going home.

Home. What would that be like, I wondered? I pictured Maggie the bus driver telling Mom that she caught her perverted kid spying on them. Then what? The end of Peeping Tom and his hiding place, that much was for sure.

Mom couldn’t really do anything to me, not after what I had seen, but still it would mean a definite change in our relationship. I knew things about her that I shouldn’t know, and she would know the some unmentionable things about me.

I went home eventually, and to my surprise nothing happened. Mom was a lot happier than she had been before and after I gave her bogus reviews of the movies I didn’t see I headed to my room.

“Wash your face Tom,” Mom said as I left.

I went to the bathroom and saw the faint marks of the grate on my cheek where my face had pressed against it. What a day.


I was the only one at the bus stop, the initial stop of the number 14 line that went across town, and when I saw that the driver was the one I hoped it would be I got on.

The driver looked at me a bit oddly, and then smiled as I climbed on, putting her hand over the fare box and motioning me to sit down. I took a seat right up front opposite her which was a handicapped seat but it was early and I was the only rider.

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