I heard her again tonight. The sounds were unmistakable. The low buzzing like an electric toothbrush. The uncontrollable moaning, muffled by the thin walls, but clearly the sounds of self pleasure. Her soft cries building to a crescendo.
I strained to hear her. My thoughts running wild as I imagined what my mother was doing to herself. The picture was clear in my mind. She was laying in her bed in a loose night shirt, legs spread open with her panties pulled to the side. Her heavy breasts heaving with her panting and her hand feverishly working the vibrator over her clit.
My erection was begging for attention. I pulled myself free and began to stroke slowly to her sounds filling the night air. I was slow and methodical, trying to draw my pleasure out as long as I could. Her moans quickened and became louder. My dick leaked in anticipation.
But before I could fully get into my jerk session, it was all over. Silence. She must have came without me. I sat in the dark silently willing her to commence another round. Unfortunately there was no encore and my dick began to soften in my grip. An all too familiar ache in my balls developed. Another unsatisfying evening that I accepted with remorse and self pity. I rolled over and went to sleep.