Peter, Paul and Mary - Sex Stories

Peter, Paul and Mary

... sure I knew what that was that rubbed against my thigh. Boys.

I was sure that my leggings had chaffed my thigh, as soon as the shopping was away, I would have to go upstairs and rub myself with some cream, it felt hot and burny at the tops of my legs.

Leaving Peter drinking a glass of water I went upstairs and in my room I tried to look behind me in the mirror. As I bent forward the leggings were well and truly 'in', leaving no doubt as to what lay beneath, a fine camel toe. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or be mortified. No wonder Peter was stood behind, and that probably explains his bulge. Boys.

I grabbed my E45 and sat on the bed. I pulled my leggings down and off and examined my thigh. Yes, rather red. I squirted some lotion onto my palms and rubbed it into the sore red parts. My panties were also irritating my skin, so I pulled them down and off. As I rubbed the lotion, I managed to brush against my sex a couple of times and I found myself holding my breath. I took the E45 and held it above my crease and squirted. That took my breath away. I was hot and aroused still, and the cold lotion made me gasp. I started to rub the lotion along my crease and then around my clitoris, my arousal growing as I gently massaged my labia. I lay back and closed my eyes, imagining Paul were there, his fingers doing the work.

I knew I was grunting, I cared not, my fingers dipped into to me, I was very wet inside, and then back up to my clitoris which felt swollen and stood ...

... proud of my lips. As my climax arrived and my orgasm rippled through my body I saw a movement at my door, just briefly, reflected in my wardrobe mirror doors. I couldn't stop, not at that moment as I lay gasping, panting and coming down from my high.

I lay back, breathing heavily, recovering. I had thought I had seen movements before, in the corner of my eye, was Peter spying on me? But I am his mum for goodness sake. I stood and went into the ensuite and ran a bowl of warm water. I took a soft cloth and bathed my thighs and sex, dabbing them dry with a towel. Oh that felt so much better.

I went back to the bedroom and opened my wardrobe, I would need a skirt, or a dress, but I didn't really want to take my sweater off, so I just selected a skirt and slipped into it. I would go without knickers for a few hours, give the tops of my legs chance to recover.

"If you want help mum, and dad, you know can't, then just ask. I will be more than happy to step in."

"Thanks Peter. Were you upstairs just now?"

"Yes mum."

"Why?"

"I just wanted something from my room."

"Oh, only I thought I saw you in my room."

"I don't think so mum, I did walk past your room, obviously to get to mine, perhaps that is what you saw."

"Okay Peter, perhaps I was wrong," well at least he didn't outright lie. I was certain he had stepped into my room whilst I was masturbating.

"Everyone does it mum," he said a grin on his face.

"What!" I exclaimed.

"Get things wrong mum, what ...