Listening At Night

Back when I was still living at home, it was just me and my mom. We’ve always been close and I was very lucky to have a mother who never shamed me for masturbation or being curious to ask questions. That being said, we did tend to keep the actual act of masturbation itself to ourselves, unless the pleasure got too much for one of us to contain (usually my mom). 

As a typical horny teen, I would sneak on Solo to read a few stories while mom was at the store or on another errand. Our family computer was in the dining room so I had a perfect view of any cars coming home. Often I would have to quickly clear my browsing history and pretend I wasn’t looking at porn before I was able to actually get my hand in my panties. Those days were fucking frustrating. I would have to wait until mom went to bed to take care of things quietly. 

When we first moved to our new house, I had chosen the second bedroom upstairs which was down a short hall to the master bedroom. I usually slept with my door partially shut while my mom left her door wide open. The first night I heard her moans I could hardly believe it, she wasn’t even trying to be quiet. I crept out of my room and went to stand outside her door (I never did peak inside, I like to just listen). I heard the buzz of a vibrator and her low and deep moans of “ooooh ooooh nnnnngh oooooh.” It was clear she was just as needy as I was and I quickly stuffed my hand in my panties. I teased my clit and slippery pussy until her orgasm hit. She yelled in primal need and let me tell you, she always came at least three times. 

Eventually I moved my bedroom to the basement because I had acquired a neck massager I liked to hump while it was on the floor. I knew if I could hear her pleasure she could hear mine. Every single night I would sit at the bottle of the basement stairs and listen to her moans and groans as she masturbated very loudly and openly. And then I would run back to my bedroom and hump my vibe for hours. 

After I was in college and would come home on breaks, I got in the habit of smelling her used panties that I could tell were damp with arousal. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to do anything with my mom, but the scent and sound of masturbation makes my clit so hard and I have an animal need to hump and grind until completion. 

Even now when we go traveling together and stay in a hotel, she and I both bring vibrators, and don’t let anything hinder our need to masturbate. As I am now a full adult she and I have very candid talks about our masturbation habits. I often wonder if she masturbates thinking about my stories like I do when I go home from those talks.