Three months had passed. Three full months. After that salacious week of sending my son selfies, knowing he would jerk off to them, and sinfully touching myself to videos of him doing exactly that, everything suddenly stopped. I had tried to continue what we started, but he wouldn't even reply to my messages and photos until after school, and even then it was mostly a casual acknowledgment.

Don't get me wrong; Omri was still the sweet and loving boy I had always known at home. But I wanted more. Then, a few weeks later, when I checked his computer for that crudely titled Daphcunt folder, it was nowhere to be found. I felt a tempest of emotions surge up within me; a mix of relief, lust, disappointment, guilt, and anger. It was a potent, but dangerous cocktail, one made worse by the fact I hadn't been able to bring myself to an orgasm in a month. I still had his old videos saved, and they worked wonders, but as much as I enjoyed them there were only so many times I could get off to the same recordings. I comforted myself with the thought that he had moved on, which was the healthiest outcome. But at the same time, it saddened me that the one person who had found me attractive enough to jerk off to, in God knows how long, had finally stopped. I guess we go back to how things used to be. "That's not so bad," I thought. I'm glad things ended before we crossed a line we couldn't uncross.

At dinner that night I made Chicken Fricassée. It was Friday night and I had managed to escape from work a little earlier than normal, so I could surprise Omri with dinner.

"That smells delicious Mom," he said as he walked in. He was completely soaked, head to toe.

"Oh my God Omri!"

I grabbed a towel and ran to this aid. I started drying him off, starting with his hair.

"What were you thinking mister? Where's your umbrella? You could get sick! And you know what you're like when you're sick, acting like a cute clingy puppy, and needing Mommy to do everything for you. I really can't be doing that, you're too old and work is really busy right now..."

I stopped scolding him for a second to look him sternly in the eye, as he gave me a toothy smile.

"Where's your umbrella Omri?" I enquired.

"Funny story that. Can I tell you over dinner?"

I told him to freshen up quickly and meet me in the kitchen before the food got cold. He joined me moments later.

"So," I prompted, after a few bites.

"You remember Maya from my class? Well, she asked me out several weeks ago, and we're kinda dating," he replied.

Oh, that explains so much. Maya. I paused for a moment, trying to recall which one she was. Then I remembered the bitch. I had bumped into her during a parent-teacher conference several years ago. She was there with her Mom, and I recalled how after a few pleasantries, I turned around to leave and heard her making derogatory comments about my size to her mother. That bitch had somehow gotten her hooks into my little man. I was furious but managed to keep a cool exterior.

"Oh Maya, of course, sweet girl," I responded after some deliberation, trying to mask the sarcasm. "Still doesn't explain why you're soaking wet. What happened to the umbrella I always tell you to keep handy?"

"Well Maya had forgotten hers, so I let her borrow mine. It was hammering down out there, didn't have a choice. You've raised me to be a gentleman after all Mom," he smiled.

Oh, Mommy knows how much of a gentleman you really are, sweetie. Calling your mother filthy names while jerking off to her. Still, it was rather cute. Or it would be if the kind gesture wasn't directed at someone so undeserving. This is why he'd stopped jerking off to me. She was probably keeping him satiated with nudes and whatnot; I know what these kids are like these days with their "snaps" and "stories". The slut was taking him from me, and I was fuming.

Omri helped me do the dishes after dinner, but he was mostly occupied with his phone; no doubt talking to that floozy. I tried to put it out of my mind. But I kept wondering what he saw in her. Omri had always been into older women, usually with large frames. Maya seemed like the complete opposite of what I recalled of her appearance. Perhaps his tastes in women were changing. Or maybe it was a popularity thing.

I had a hard time sleeping. I was conflicted. On the one hand, Omri was finally in a relationship again, with a girl his age, and he seemed to be happy. It felt good to see him smile again and be outgoing like his old self. On the other, my maternal instincts were going haywire, telling me this girl was trouble. I couldn't let this slut take my sweet boy from his mother. I resolved to do something about it. And then I had an idea.

The next morning I set up an Instagram account. It took me a while to figure everything out, but a few minutes later, I had an account, sent out follow requests to some of my friends and work colleagues (and of course, sweet Omri), and followed a few popular public accounts. It was like a new world, having never had a social media account before, outside of LinkedIn. I uploaded a photo too, letting everyone know it was me. By the time I reached the office, I had racked up 50 followers, one of which was Omri. Jackpot.

My plan was simple; I wanted to remind Omri of the type of women he was truly attracted to. Under the guise of posting photos on Instagram, rather than sending them directly to him, I could be a little more risqué, I thought.

My week was very busy and I ended up uploading over a dozen photos on my IG. There were photos of my girl's night out with my friend Hila. I made sure to take lots of selfies, making the silly faces I knew Omri loved, and especially sticking out my tongue like a real party girl. It was a little embarrassing acting so young and reckless, but I was honestly enjoying myself. One afternoon, I visited the local beach and took several selfies in my one-piece swimsuit, which somehow felt way smaller than it was. One of my more risqué photos showed simply my thick thighs and extended legs as I lay on a sun lounger, capturing the beauty of the shimmering ocean. Finally, my week ended with a birthday party of a work colleague. I wore a tight, bodycon sweater dress which I recently purchased, and it really accentuated my sizeable chest while also showing plenty of my thighs as it wasn't too long. The compliments were endless, and all the blushing must have given everyone the impression I was having an allergic reaction! I took lots of photos, with Hila being the insistent photographer.

"Honey, you will find a new man in no time looking like that," she joked.

I was so excited to upload the photos and get Omri's reaction. But to my surprise, he didn't leave any comments. He didn't even heart any of my photos from the week! On Saturday during breakfast, we passingly spoke about my IG, and he said it was great to see me having fun and to ask him if I needed any technical help with it. That was it! No "You look great Mom", or "That dress was so hot on you". Nothing.

By the time Sunday rolled around, I was feeling deflated. The plan hadn't worked. Maybe it really was for the best. Omri had made plans to go out with some friends, and I was alone in the house once more. After the usual cleaning, I decided to pass the time with a book, but as soon as I sat on the sofa, my phone chimed. I checked to see the notification and it was a new IG follower. I had left my profile open to the public because I couldn't figure out the privacy settings (I know, I'm old), which meant I ended up with several random followers during the week which I didn't even know. I was just about to set my phone down again, but then I noticed the name and my heart almost stopped. "Daphcunt". Oh my God! It was him! But why...? He was already following me on his account. Curious, I clicked on the name, and noticed it was a brand new profile, following 1 person; me!

I was still unsure what he was trying to do when I received a DM from this "Daphcunt" account. My heart raced and my fingers trembled uncontrollably as I clicked the notification.

"Hi Daphna," it read. "I'm a big fan!" Suddenly it dawned on me. He wanted to talk to me under the guise of this "fake" profile so he could remain anonymous. My mind was reeling, and I fell back on the sofa. The heat between my legs was becoming uncontrollable once more. Slowly, I slipped my right hand under my panties as I replied.

************************

I was already regretting DM'ing Mom. These last few months had been so difficult. After secretly jerking off to her photos months ago, the guilt had overwhelmed me. Here she was, working her ass off for us, and I was fantasizing about dominating her and calling her names. She was a great Mom and I loved her dearly, and I knew we could never be anything more. I had to get over this incestuous infatuation. When Maya approached me and asked me out, I was kinda blindsided. I'd barely spoken to her in class and she was really not my type. But I saw it as an opportunity to break free of the guilt I felt for lusting after my own mother. And so we went on a couple of dates, and honestly, I was having fun. But there was no real spark, no butterflies, no heat. At least not the kind I felt when I saw my Mom's photos on her newly created Instagram account.

When I first received her follow request, I was surprised. Mom has always been rather shy; while that certainly makes her endearing, it doesn't suit social media so much. She's also never been great with technology, often needing my help with the simplest of tasks, such as creating accounts, managing her emails, or even basic ad-blocking. She was somewhere between cute and inept, but I loved her for it. Outside of the way she looked, I think my biggest draw to her was her naivety. She was always so motherly, doting on me like I was still a kid, and a part of me wanted to corrupt that innocence. A part of me I tried to bury.

But seeing her photos this week had reawakened that part of me. Her selfie with her friend, sticking out her tongue, was exactly the kind of photo I'd cum tribute in the past. Her fat thighs at the beach were perfection; I wanted to softly massage them before rubbing my leaking dick all over them. And the way her sweater dress at the party hugged her curves made her tits seem even bigger than they were. That last one especially inspired a vivid wet dream last night, in which I roughly groped her breasts in her dress as she lay passed out on the sofa, helpless, before tit-fucking her and soiling her precious sweater in thick ropes of cum.

So when I woke up in my horny stupor this morning, I concocted a plan. I wanted to talk to her! To tell her, and show her, what she does to me. But of course, I couldn't do that as her son. So instead I created a completely new burner account and sent her a DM. Thankfully her privacy settings were accommodating; I realised she probably didn't know how to block certain things or make her profile private.

"Dumb cunt," I muttered. Secretly hurling insults at my Mom was always such a turn-on for me. Despite her maternal, sweet nature, she was still an authority figure, and swearing at her not only gave me some semblance of power; pathetic I know, but it was also exciting to imagine the shock on her face if she ever heard her darling son saying some of these words, much less directing them at her.

The account name was admittedly a mistake; in my horniness I didn't fully grasp how offensive it truly was, or that Mom would pick up on it. And so I sat there in the local library, waiting for my mother to reply to my DM. I had told her I was going out with friends, but I only met with them briefly before heading here, making some excuses about revision. Our local library was almost always deserted, which meant I could easily find a snug little corner for privacy.

Daphna: "Hi fan, nice username..."

It felt like my heart stopped when I noticed she replied. This is exactly what I wanted, but now that she responded, it dawned on me that there was no turning back. Suddenly my palms were sweating profusely, and I felt my cock harden with all the possibilities.

I wrote an apology for the name before deleting it; I remembered our conversation about being more assertive. And so I altered my response.

Omri: "thanks, I knew you'd like it ;)"

D: "Do I know you?"

O: "u don't, but i know you and I think ur really hot!"

I typed quickly so I didn't have a chance to second guess myself. It just struck me that I'd finally told my Mom that I thought she was hot, albeit anonymously. I slowly traced the outline of my growing bulge through my jeans with my finger, awaiting Mom's response.

D: "You really think so? This is cute, a secret admirer for this old lady haha"

O: "yah i really do. and cmon, u don't look that old in your photos"

D: "Well.. I'm closer to 50 than 40. How old are you?

O: "im 21"

D: "I'm old enough to be your mother haha! In fact, I have a son almost the same age as you, that's so funny!"

Probably should've picked a different age to throw off any suspicion. Hindsight is 20/20.

D: "So what exactly do you like about this old lady?"

O: "everything! I love your beautiful milfy face, your fat tits, your thick thighs, your curvy bbw body! u get me so hard Daphna"

D: "wow, I never thought I'd hear that from someone so young..."

O: "r u kidding? ur perfect, im obsessed with u"

D: "I don't believe you, you're just pranking me right??"

Only one way to prove this definitively. I got up and headed to the bathroom, my dick aching to be freed. As soon as I got into a stall I unzipped and let it out. I was throbbing and leaking more precum than ever; talking to Mom was driving me crazy. I took out my phone and took several photos, changing the angles and my hand positioning with every shot. I wanted to get it perfect for her. After a few minutes, I flicked through the pictures and found the perfect one; it showed my hardened cock atop the palm of my right hand, thick veins angrily throbbing, and tip glistening with precum. I hit send, captioning it "this is what u do to me".

I waited in the bathroom stall for almost half an hour for a reply. When it didn't come, I disappointingly tucked my now-flaccid cock and zipped my pants back up again. I had gone too fast and too hard. I had blown this golden opportunity.

My phone pinged as I exited, but it was just Maya asking to meet up. I told her to meet me at our usual spot, even though I didn't feel like it. Mom was still occupying 100% of my brain. Maya and I had a quick meal as she gossiped about school and her friends, all whilst I probably looked completely checked out and dejected. She didn't seem to mind it strangely. After a while we said goodbye; she leaned in for a kiss but I just gave her a hug and headed home.

As I approached the main door, I heard strange sounds coming from the other side. I put my ear to the door and tried to listen. Then I pulled away again. It was Mom and she was moaning! Not wanting to miss the chance to see her in states of undress, I unlocked the door and tried to head in, only to be stopped by the door chain. As soon as I unlocked the door, the moans stopped.

"Mom, can you let me in please?"

"Coming!"

I bet, I thought, smirking. She came to unlatch the chain 2 minutes later. I couldn't believe my eyes; she was glistening with sweat, hair disheveled, lip slightly bleeding. Had she been masturbating?

"Everything okay Ma?"

"Yes, sweetie. Just extra security. You know how the neighborhood is lately," she replied.

Her flushed cheeks betrayed her. As I headed to my room, I glanced at the TV in the living room. It looked like she had mirrored her phone onto the screen, and my heart skipped when I noticed it was our conversation on Instagram. And though she had scrolled up slightly, I could see the tip of my dick on the bottom edge of the screen. Oh my God! She had masturbated to my dick pic!

I took a quick shower and said goodnight to Mom, planning my next move. As soon as I hit my mattress, I grabbed my phone and started texting.

O: "hey, y did u go quiet? u didn't like the pic?"

D: "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting that. I think that might be the first dick pic I've ever received, haha"

O: "and......