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One fine Saturday, it was a holiday for both of us and dad was not there and I had to go out for some work and I accidentally stumbled in her room to find her nude, masturbating and inserting a dildo in her pussy. We both were shocked to see each other. Seeing her in that position I had an instant boner in my trousers.Later when I returned, she was watching TV, I sat beside her. Since we had an emotional connect with her she told me that her hubby did not have sex with her in their 3 months of marriage. And that she had an intention to have sex. Hearing that I offered to have sex with her(internally I was head over heels).I then went to purchase some condoms and i-pill.As soon as I came back from the market, we had dinner which she had prepared. After dinner I put on an erotic English movie, she sat beside me. Slowly she got excited and I found her hand approaching my dick. Soon she got hold of my erect dick. I moved my left hand onto her boob(right) and I pressed her boobs with both. Before I knew it, she was in the guest room. I quickly ran into the bathroom just in case she came back out and saw my raging hard on. I showered and washed my hair. I thought about rubbing one out, but decided I didn’t have time. I stepped out of the shower onto the mat. It was then that I noticed she had taken the only towel. I didn’t want to risk going out naked and bumping into her. So, I shouted to her and asked her to hand me a towel out of the cupboard. She came back out of her room and got me a towel. I moved my head around the door to see her coming and took the towel from her as I was closing the door. “Oh, Ben, I think I left my underwear in there could you hand it to me please." “Umm, yeah sure, one min.” I looked around and found her underwear next to the wash basket, a matching set of blue bra and knickers. I couldn’t help but look inside and found out that she had a 34C bra size. I quickly remembered that Tia was just outside the door waiting. I opened the door.
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My mother's face had gone slightly pale. She gazed at me for a long moment. Then, looking away, she quietly replied, "Yes. He used to spank me whenever he decided that I'd crossed the line." Emboldened by that knowledge, I continued. "Did he do that to you on the day he died?" "No," she replied. "He told me that I was lucky he was running late, or he would have turned me over his knee and spanked me like a bad little girl." She sniffled, on the verge of tears. "He... he promised to do it when he g-got back..." "Well, maybe if he had, you wouldn't feel so guilty about what happened," I said, cutting her off before she began to cry again. Then, taking a deep breath, I plowed ahead. "Anyway, since he didn't spank you then, I feel it's my duty to do it now." There, I'd said it. My mother just sat there staring at me -- her mouth slightly open, as if she hadn't heard correctly. I continued. "Even though Dad's death wasn't really your fault, you feel guilty... and the only.

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