My Son and My Panties

I made a discovery last summer that changed the way I think about my fourteen year old son…

A few months back I was cleaning up the house and doing some laundry while the kids were out. I opened the door to my son’s room and noticed that there were piles of dirty clothes all over the floor, which didn’t surprise me, but it was a little frustrating because I’d asked him to clean up several times the day before. I started picking up his dirty clothes and throwing them in a pile in the middle of the floor, and getting annoyed that I had at least two loads of just his things to wash. I could see a pair of jeans tucked under his bed so I pulled them out and then knelt down to see if I was missing anything else. There was a t-shirt and a couple pairs of socks that I quickly fished out, but there was also something else. Balled up and tucked behind the bed frame was a pair of panties. When I pulled them out I was shocked to discover that they were the same brand and style that I wear. I got a weird feeling in my stomach as my mind jumped from question to question. Whose are these? Are they mine? How did they get here? I knew I had the same brand, style and color (light pink) as the ones I was now holding in my hands, but I bought them at Target and a lot of people shop at Target.

I quickly got up and went to my bedroom to check my underwear drawer for confirmation. I dug through the drawer but couldn’t find my pink pair. I checked the size of the ones from my son’s room and they were medium, just like mine. I hurried down the hall to the laundry room and began digging through the dirty clothes basket looking for my missing panties. When I didn’t find them, I started to get a little frantic. I pulled the clean clothes out of the dryer thinking maybe I had washed them already, but again no sight of them. I went down the hall to my daughter’s room and went through her underwear drawer thinking maybe they had been misplaced. Once again I found nothing. I sat down on my daughter’s bed and looked at the panties in my hand realizing that they must be mine. I was shocked. What were they doing in his room? I played out some scenarios in my head (maybe they got mixed in with his laundry?) but while examining the pair in my hands I could tell that they hadn’t been washed. Why were my dirty panties in my son’s room???

The answer became more clear as I felt the fabric more. They were stiff and discolored in some areas and I realized quickly that he had masturbated with them. I was shocked and a little horrified. What do I do now? I thought through my options; do I talk with him about it? Do I say nothing and wash them like nothing happened?

For a little context, I was raised in a very religious household and sex was always a shameful topic. As I got older religion became something I despised and I’ve been through a lot of therapy to work out my issues with shame. My husband and I have worked very hard to not push guilt and shame on our children. We’ve tried to be more open with talking about sex (not in a weird or creepy way) so that we have an open dialogue with our kids.

I decided that if I brought it up to him it would probably traumatize him for life, so that was out of the question. If I took them and washed them but didn’t say anything he would of course know that I found them which would also cause shame. In the end I decided to put them back. I balled them back up and tucked them into the same spot I found them.

I tried to put the incident out of mind and go about my day. I managed to get through the day and act pretty normal when the kids got home. All day long I had been waiting for my husband to come home so that I could tell him about it, but when he did get back I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He has a close relationship with our son and I didn’t want to tell him something that might make him think less of him. Not sure if that was the right thing to do, but that’s what I did.

A couple of days later I was putting a load of laundry in when I noticed the pink underwear at the bottom of my hamper. They were balled up much like they were when I found them but they had been returned. I thought, “well, that’s that” and tossed them into the machine with the rest of the dirty clothes. I felt a small sense of relief and I was able to put the situation out of my mind, confident that I had made the right choice to put them back.

A week or so later I was once again collecting laundry and found myself back in my son’s room. I hadn’t given much thought to what had happened and was kind of on autopilot, picking up clothes from his floor when I glanced over and saw something tucked under his bed. Ugh, my stomach dropped as I realized it was another pair of panties. I reached down and pulled them out from their hiding spot and confirmed that, once again, they were mine. This time it was a pair of black ones. I sat down on the edge of his bed and looked over my panties. The light pink panties he had taken before did a much better job of concealing his deed, but the black pair revealed it all. When I opened them up, white shiny stains of semen were smeared and caked all over the crotch of my favorite pair of panties. “Jesus Christ” I said softly as I realized what he had done. With the pink pair there was some room in my brain to dismiss what he had done, but now there was no question. My hands trembled and a quick image of the ordeal popped into my brain. I dismissed the thought quickly and bunched the panties back up and tucked them under his bed where I found them.

Once again I tried my best to put the thought out of my head, but this time it was much harder to do. I found myself pacing around the house for a while unsure of what I should do. I ended up getting online and googling (in incognito mode) the subject. I found a parent board where I was able to learn that this was a fairly common thing. It gave me a level of relief to know that I wasn’t the only one going through this and that my son wasn’t some kind of deviant. I was feeling better and about to log out when I saw a reply from a sex therapist regarding the subject. He wrote kind of a summary about the “fetish” and explained that it was fairly common, which once again gave me a measure of relief. However, his explanation on some of the particulars of what boys do with them left me feeling uneasy once again. He wrote that, “boys will often seek out used underwear so that they can smell the scent of the owner.” It had never occurred to me. Was my son smelling my panties? The thought hit me like a ton of bricks, “my son knows what I smell like”. My head spun. I read on and he noted that boys “often ejaculate in the crotch of the panties because it’s the spot where a woman’s most intimate parts would have been”. Once again I was stunned. I sat back in the chair as my mind raced. Was my son really smelling my panties? Was he really shooting into the crotch because that’s where my pussy had been? I felt light headed and I was flooded with mental images that I never thought I’d have.

The worst part came a few moments later as I was processing everything…I was aroused. I shook my head to try and clear my mind but the feeling didn’t go away. I felt, I don’t know, proud in a way? Flattered? I was flooded with feelings of shame for thinking that way, but the shame seemed to only make things worse. I felt a tingling, like an itch crawl over my body and began rubbing my stomach and arms to try to make it go away. I felt my uterus contract in a small cramp and I could feel heat spreading throughout my pelvis. I shifted slightly in my seat and felt a dampness in my panties as it rubbed against my lips. “ok, that’s enough of that!”, I said out loud and stood up. I clicked out of google and tried my best to compose myself.

I decided to get outside and get some fresh air, so I went out the front door and walked to the mailbox. With each step I could feel the wetness in my panties rubbing against my swollen labia. I felt guilt and shame like I hadn’t felt in years. But I also couldn’t remember ever being so turned on in all my life.

A day after finding the second pair of my panties in my son’s room, I found them back in the laundry room mixed in with the other dirty clothes. When I picked them up they were damp and the light streaks of his semen were no longer there. I realized that he must have rinsed them out before returning them to hide the evidence; smart boy. I had been thinking about the things I’d read on the parenting forum and trying to make sense of the feelings I had been having. What was it that had caused my body to respond like that? The funny thing was, the more I tried to think about it and understand it, the more my brain couldn’t land on anything. It was like my subconscious was trying to shut down any thoughts that my conscious mind was having. Eventually I moved on and tried my best to put it out of mind.

I did find myself in my son’s bedroom a lot. Almost any time I was alone I would sneak in and look under his bed to see if there was anything there. My heart would race in anticipation every time I slowly turned the doorknob of his bedroom, and I have to admit that I was a little disappointed when I didn’t find anything. After two weeks of looking almost every day and not finding anything I gave up. I figured it had probably run its course and he was no longer doing it. I was oddly sad, but also more than a little relieved that I could put the episode behind me and more forward.

Almost two weeks had gone by and I was sitting on the couch reading when my son walked into the kitchen and grabbed a drink out of the refrigerator. He casually mentioned that he was headed over to a friend’s house and told me he’d be back in a couple of hours. I watched him leave and turned back to my book when a thought came to my mind…”maybe you should look?” I shook my head to clear the thought and tried to refocus on the sentence I seemed to be reading for the second time. The house was eerily quiet and I found the thought returning once again. I glanced at the clock and realized I had 40 minutes or so before anyone would be back home…

I walked slowly down the hall until I got to his door, which conveniently had been left slightly opened. For some reason I felt better about entering when the door was slightly open than I would have if it had been shut all the way. I took a quick look out of his bedroom window to make sure my son didn’t make a surprise return before kneeling down quietly to peer under his bed. There in the dark I could see something. My heart skipped a beat as I reached out and pulled the tangled ball of navy blue satin from its hiding place. As I held them I realized that I had been wearing these panties only a day ago.

With my panties in my trembling hands, I got up from the floor and sat on the edge of my son’s bed. I looked towards the door again to make sure I was alone, then gently opened them, expecting to find dried semen streaked against the fabric. To my surprise and shock, as I untangled them, I could feel wetness. I stopped breathing as my eyes darted towards the door once again making sure that I was still alone. I carefully opened the satin material to find that the cotton crotch was completely covered in thick globs of cum. He had just finished using them before he left!

I could hear the blood rushing in my ears and my face became red and hot. The smell of semen filled the air; my son’s semen. As I stared trembling at the mess my boy had made, I felt something wet on my finger and saw that some of his sperm was running down the side of my finger. As if on instinct, I raised my hand quickly to my lips and without thinking licked the wetness from the top of my index finger. What was I doing??? I acrid taste of cum coated my mouth and the blood that had been in my head seconds ago, was now making a desperate change of direction. A pleasurable cramp deep inside my pelvis caused me to groan softly (or was it the taste of sperm in my mouth?) and I could feel warm wetness begin to form in my panties.

I moaned again as the realization of what I had just done sunk in and, in that moment, a desperation filled my body. I had to orgasm; now. I carefully placed the soiled panties on his bed, making sure to not let any semen drip out on his sheets. Once they were out of my hands, I frantically unbuttoned my jeans and yanked the zipper down, jamming my left hand under the waistband of my panties until my fingers reached the soft folds of my soaking lips. I coated my fingers in my wetness and then pulled them up to my swollen clit, rubbing frantically while I stared at my cum filled panties on my son’s bed. I leaned close to them, smelling the pungent aroma while I continued to work my fingers from my hard clit down to the warmth of my hole and back again, over and over.

I inched my face closer to the mess my son had made, opening my mouth slightly as my tongue extended. From the corner of my eye I saw a framed picture of my son on his nightstand. It had been taken on a family trip and now his piercing blue eyes seemed as though they were watching me. It should have stopped me. It should have made me at least pause and reassess what I was doing. It should have, but it didn’t. All I could think was, “this is what you wanted Jason ”. I stared back at his eyes in the picture and leaned down lower until my tongue found the wetness of his cum. I closed my eyes and gently licked up a glob of my son’s sperm, savoring the taste and feeling of it in my mouth. I opened my eyes to see his frozen face still staring back at mine from the frame.

I sat up and looked at the clock, realizing only 15 minutes had passed. I still had more time. For some reason I had an urge at that moment to be naked. I Stood up from the bed and stared back at my son’s picture. “Is this what you want to see?” I said in a whisper to the boy in the frame. I quickly removed my shirt and dropped it on the floor. “Do you want to see your mom’s breasts?” I unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor. “Do you like your mom’s nipples Jason? Look how hard they are for you.” I gently pinched each nipple sending a shiver down my body. “No, I know what my boy wants; you want to see your mom’s panties…” I smiled as I pulled my jeans down to the floor and stepped out of them, exposing myself to my son’s picture. “Well? Do you like what you see? Look Jason, I’m wearing the pink ones I found in your room. The ones you used and then hid behind your bed”.

My body ached to be touched again. I reached back into my panties and gently rubbed myself in front of my son’s picture; the fantasy that I was doing it in front of him added to the excitement. I slowly peeled my panties off, now standing totally naked in my son’s room masturbating in front of his picture. Looking back at his bed a thought entered my mind. It was wrong. I knew it was wrong. But how many chances would I have? How many mothers got the chance to taste their own son’s cum? But I had already tasted him; I wanted something else.

I carefully picked up my soiled panties from his bed and gently ran my finger through his seed. It was now or never. I held the sides of the panties and gently stepped into them; my left leg first then my right, being careful not to spill the special contents inside. Slowly I slid them up until I could feel the cool wetness of my son’s seed pressed against the very place that made him. My legs felt weak. I eased down onto his bed and laid down with my head on his pillow. I could feel my son’s cum running down my lips and tickling my asshole as gravity took hold, and I moaned; I moaned like a whore. I placed my hand on the outside of my blue satin panties and softly rubbed, feeling my son’s sperm spread over my vulva. I increased the pressure and could feel it covering my clit causing my insides to spasm in orgasm. It was small, but intense and I desperately wanted more. I slid my left hand inside my panties and felt his cum on my fingers, before pulling them out and slipping them in my mouth. My right hand slid back inside my panties as I felt myself lose all control (if I had had any before that). I coated my middle finger with as much of my son’s seed as I could feel and slowly slid it towards my waiting hole. I plunged my middle finger inside up to my knuckle before wiggling it around inside me to release his sperm into my body. The most intense orgasm of my life washed over me as I bucked my hips off the bed into my finger. “My baby boy’s cum is inside me!” was the only thing I could think of as my body spasmed over and over again. My insides pulsed in a way that they had never done before. My owns son sperm were now swimming inside the very place that gave him life.

when my orgasms had subsided, I removed my hand from my panties and once again raised it to my lips. I moaned gently as I savored the taste of our shared sexual excitement. As the realization of what had happened settled in on me, tears formed in the corners of my eyes. Was it shame I was feeling? Yes, a little. But more than anything there was sadness. It hit me at that moment, that as my son had grown up we had grown apart. We didn’t spend much time together and we barely talked anymore. But I was also happy. It made me happy to know that I could still give him some form of pleasure; even if it was just through my smell on my worn panties. And here I was, laying on his bed, with my son’s sperm swimming inside my body, and the taste of cum on my lips. At that moment we were closer than most mothers and sons will ever be.

My husband and daughter would be home soon, so I got off the bed and slipped the blue panties off. I held them to my nose and mouth, inhaled his scent and tasted him once more before balling them back up and tucking them behind his bed. I dressed quickly before going to the bathroom to wash up before anyone came home.

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