Margaret said she'd put me with Chris in his room. The bed wasn't a single but it wasn't a full double either. Are women really so naive? Anyway, the boy didn't object so I felt I couldn't. There didn't seem to be any alternative sleeping arrangement in their little flat. I guess she also wanted to ensure there would be no suspicion of anything between her and me. It was a long time since we'd been lovers. Chris and I went to bed in our underpants. It was impossible to stop our bodies touching, bare flesh against bare flesh, and eventually I gave up trying. There were no curtains and the sun woke me in the morning. I was on my back; Chris on his side pressed against me. I thought he was still asleep until his free hand casually but deliberately slid my way and placed itself on my belly. I didn't move. I still didn't move when it insinuated itself under the waist of my underpants and sought my burgeoning cock. We could hear Margaret moving around in the flat, flushing the toilet and moving stuff in the kitchen. I remembered the morning years ago when she unexpectedly and spontaneously gave me a stupendously exciting hand job. Now her son was gripping my cock and beginning to wank me with practiced strokes. I eased my underpants down to make it easier for him. I hadn't felt this good in a long time and his mother being so close and so unsuspecting made it more intense. We'd no sooner done than she knocked at the door and came in with coffee. We pulled apart and pretended she'd wakened us although my belly and his hand were wet with my cum. «Don't lie too long,» she said cheerily as she left. We didn't. Just the time it took for me to do him in return.