Sex stories, incest, Mother grooms her son through his fetish for her lingerie, Sigmund Freud is a name I know, but I’ve never actually read any of his work. Although I am aware he proposed what he called the Oedipus complex.
It seems he came up with a theory that all small boys select their mother as their primary object of desire! He also believed that this occurs between the ages 3-5 years old.
As someone who fell passionately in love with his mother and became her lover at the age of 18, I have to disagree with the old guy on that point.
I never had carnal thoughts for her until I became a man.
I also have problems with Freud’s assertions that boys wish their fathers dead- so as they can replace them in their mother’s bed!
Again, not true in my case. I really cared for my Dad, that was until he fucked off and left us for a fat redhead. Then I wanted him dead.
I think my desire for Mum came to me by a circuitous route. Probably beginning when I discovered thrilling sexual stimulation from holding and smelling her makeup and lingerie.
But looking back I can’t honestly pinpoint any specific event that imprinted this fetish on me.
Anyway, here’s my story, so you can judge for yourself.
When I was 18 our family life changed irrevocably after dad met another woman and decided to leave Mum and me without warning.
One day we came back to an empty house. All our suitcases had disappeared, as had his clothes.
And to put the cherry on the cake, he had emptied their joint account, leaving us penniless.
The only item of any value he left behind was his wedding ring, which he had left on Mum’s pillow.
Fortunately the deeds of the house were in Mum’s name. Otherwise he would probably have kicked us out and installed his whore!
Somehow we coped and survived that seismic upheaval in our lives.
The consequence was that Mum had to take a job, which left me alone in the house for long periods after returning home from college. But at least I was still in education and hadn’t had to leave and take a job. I was in my second year of a photography course I hoped would eventually help me set up my own photographic studio.
In a happy coincidence mum had managed to get herself taken on as a back office assistant by a busy studio producing catalogues for some of the better known UK manufacturers of quality lingerie and makeup.
She liked the work and they seemed to take to her.
Looking back I still can’t imagine why Dad left Mum for a chubby red-headed tart ten years older than himself.
While Mum was no film star, at 36 she was slim and attractive with a head of shiny jet-black hair.
And while she mostly dressed down for work, she scrubbed up really well at weekends, when she put on makeup and wore stockings under quite tight skirts.
I knew she was proud of her figure, often commenting how she was still the same weight and dress size she had been at 17, just a year before I had been born.
More than once I had caught her standing side-on at her bedroom mirror, checking out her figure.
And sometimes she even asked me how she looked, and if I thought she was getting old.
I always told her the truth that I thought her the most beautiful woman in the world. Most times that got me a cuddle against her firm breasts, a closeup smell of her perfume and lipstick and a kiss on my forehead.
Those were the moments I cherished most in my life. They were possibly one reason I gradually fell in love with her. But there were other reasons.
At this point it might help the describe myself to you as I was at the time of my story, as it should add some fun to any scenes you might care to imagine.
Many of my friends thought me a throwback from the Mediterranean, because my skin was darker than theirs, despite my mother having the pale sallow skin of the indigenous English.
By biggest embarrassment came initially in the school showers and later in the gym, when everyone saw the skin of my circumcised penis and testicles was considerably darker then that of my body.
Of course the jibes and jokes were remorseless, but the oddest thing was the number of guys who came up to me to look at my dark prick and tell me how the girls would love that in them.
But at the time I just I couldn’t see it, and tried to hide myself whenever possible.
But my main characteristic was,(and still is) I’m a hairy man, black curly hair on my head, constant Bluebeard chin and curly hair growing thickly over my chest, back, arms and legs. A gene inherited from my father’s side of the family.
Whenever I wore sleeveless `T` shirts, girls I knew came up to me and twirled or pulled at the hair sticking out from my shoulders chest and back.
Some loved it, some found it repulsive. Not too surprising in a world where men are preferred with their bodies shaved clean, like porn stars.
So I looked more like a Sicilian pimp than the diligent, but shy, English photography student (and virgin) I was.
However the was one girl, Simone Andretti, AKA ‘Simmi’, who was always hanging around me. Seems It was obvious to everyone (except me) that she was hot for me.
While the other girls were tugging my body hair she was the only one caressing my arms, as if she loved the touch of my wiry hair.
Simone, half English, half Italian, was a tall, elegant girl with curly black hair like mine. She liked to wear her hair big, exploding outwards onto her shoulders.
And she was tall, if anything a smidgen taller than me.
Her height, svelte figure and intense beauty she inherited from her mother, Selena Andretti, whom she always called Mama.
I’d met Mama a couple of times when I called for Simone.
Selena was a true beauty, quite breathtaking, one of those magnificent women that hush a room when she enters, everyone turning just to glimpse her grace and radiance.
While Simone had undoubtedly inherited the awesome gift of beauty from her Mama, she lacked the finesse, charm and heart-melting femininity that differentiates a beautiful looking woman from a truly beautiful person.
Like her Mama, Simone could hush a room with her looks, vivacious smile and flashing eyes when she entered.
But should any sexual predator move in on her, instead of finding grace and gentleness, they faced the bared fangs of a young she wolf.
It was that same height, same big hair, tough self-confidence and disarming aggression that intimidated many of the guys on the course.
Indeed, most people kept their distance from her because Simmi had a bite. And when she was going to bite she would snarl and curse her victims in crude Italian.
Yet she never bit me – nor snarled.
Some said she was a psycho bitch, but I really loved being in her company. She purred at me. Indeed, she was always warm, patient and caring.
On the other hand, she could be a delight to be with.
During various course photographic projects we tended to drift together, and had often taken portraits of one-another.
The camera loved Simone.
A couple of times we had dated, but she had always been keener on our friendship than me. Although I liked her very much and did enjoy her company, I found her a bit too touchy-feely.
But I must confess I did enjoy just looking at her, the symmetry of her face, her firm body and wonderful breasts.
We had never got as far as intercourse. I had always suspected sex was on offer – if only I had had the courage to make the first move.
Simmi came around to our house a couple of times and had even met Mum. Once, while looking at photographic magazines in my bedroom she had come on to me very strongly. If Mum hadn’t have interrupted she would probably have taken me by force!
Despite my Latin appearance I actually liked how I looked.
I smiled a lot, loved joking around and girls told me I was attractive – but in a dangerous sort of way? Whatever that meant?
Truth is, I was a pussy cat that only looked like a tiger.
And at just over 6′ tall with a powerful body, most guys didn’t push the animal wisecracks too far.
Anyway, enough about me and back to the story.
I had always been a curious young man.
Whenever Mum was out I would check through all the draws and cupboards in the house. It took a long time as I took great care to put everything back exactly as it was.
My prying was never discovered. To aid me I often took digital photos of drawer or cupboard contents and used them to double check everything was put back correctly.
Eventually I came to know where all the secrets were hidden.
My favourite place to pry was the dressing table in my mother’s bedroom. In the drawers, boxes and bottles there were so many fascinating and forbidden things to touch and smell.
I loved inhaling her perfume and the smell of face powder. I got particularly aroused exploring her lipsticks, twisting them open and delighting in their gloss and colours. It was almost irresistible not to lick and taste the lipsticks, but doing so would have certainly led to my discovery.
As was the temptation to rub her skin creme on my penis.
Sometimes I could get off just by sniffing her hairbrush or sucking strands of her raven hair.
But best of all was her intimate underwear draw.
It was literally a treasure chest of erotic things to fondle, sniff for her body odour or stroke against my lips and cheeks.
Among the erotic contents were packs of expensive nylons, black lace suspender belts and a shoe box containing two pairs of gorgeous ‘fuck-me’ stiletto heels.
At the bottom of one draw I found a sealed plastic bag containing a used condom, still with semen in it. I assumed it was a tangible and tactile reminder of the last time she and Dad had sex. It smelled musty and was cold to the touch.
These shameful forays into her most intimate places were also my only real-world connection to the lingerie worn by the sexy women in my men’s magazines.
Her bedroom was a dreamland that I longed to return to whenever I was alone in the house.
At first I was content getting erections from her stuff.
However it didn’t take long for me to begin jacking off into a handkerchief while sniffing and caressing her underwear. I got particularly aroused sniffing the soiled nickers and stockings she had in her laundry basket.
My growing sexual desire for her lingerie didn’t go away when I closed her bedroom door.
Lingerie consumed my thoughts throughout the day and became even more vivid when alone in bed.
At night I always dreamed of Mum dressing for me in her black silk lingerie. These images were so vivid that it felt that I could actually reach out and run my hands up her seamed stockings.
These nightly erotic images became so intense I could ejaculate without even having to touch my penis! Wet dreams.
Once, not long after Dad had left, a group of her girlfriends persuaded her to go out with them for the evening. As if in an act of defiance against her situation, Mum made a special effort to look her best. When she came downstairs I was wowed with her appearance.
She had chosen a simple black dress that hugged her in all the right places, and was short enough to hint at stocking tops and suspenders.
Her hair was styled into a casual up-do with a few loose strands hanging over her ears. I don’t think I’d ever taken notice of her long neck before, and I felt a thrill of sexual pleasure just by looking at her.
Also, and a first time for me, she wore those high heels I’d first seen in the shoebox.
She also had on a pair of white button earrings that somehow made her look years younger.
I told her truthfully that she looked stunning and smelled good enough to eat, then asked if I could take a photo of her.
She agreed and I spent a couple of minutes shooting her from several angles on my college DSLR camera.
Mum went along with my photo shoot, making sexy poses for fun, like models do in TV programs. I immediately regretted not anticipating this photo opportunity and preparing backdrops and lights.
But what the hell, if I wanted to be a professional photographer I had to deal with whatever came along.
Then her friends arrived at the front door. But before she left Mum gave me another of her wonderful affectionate hugs. It allowed me to get close enough to inhale her dreamy Chanel No 5 perfume and smell her face powder.
But more importantly, she pressed her breasts tight against me. A seemingly innocent hug to her, but to my sex-obsessed mind, it felt like foreplay. A clear signal that she wanted me!
It would have been so easy to lift her dress and run a hand up her silk stockings.
Unknown to her I took a couple of quick snaps of her sexy ass and stocking seams as she left the house.
Immediately I ran upstairs to begin editing the photos on my PC in PhotoShop.
Several were good enough to print so I sent them to my A3 photo printer.
Soon I was lying across her bed, jerking off at the large full colour photos of her while sniffing the panties and tan work stockings she had left on the floor.
Then I transferred the photos of her to my smartphone so I could jerk off at them during college breaks.
They must have had a powerful effect on me as I began to lose all interest in girls of my own age. I even gave my slightly soiled collection of men’s magazines to a dorky guy at college.
One afternoon, confident I was alone, breathing in the scent from a pair of her silk stockings, she came quietly into her bedroom behind me.
Dressed in her plain work clothes she looked very ordinary.
I guess she must have watched me for some time until eventually I groaned and writhed with pleasure, ejaculating hard into a handkerchief in my trousers.
When she cleared her throat I could have died with embarrassment.
But she just stood there watching me. Not looking at my erection, nor her lingerie, but intently at my face.
I said nothing, feeling only shame.
“Just for a moment I thought it was your Dad,” she said wistfully, while running her long fingers through my curly black hair.
“You’re so much like him Jack. Same slim body. Same beautiful face an same hairy skin.”
“Jeez, I’m sorry Mum, I didn’t mean to…”
“How long have you been getting off on my underwear love?” she asked softly.
Then I blurted it all out, the whole sordid story of my fixation with her makeup, perfume and lingerie.
Remarkably she said nothing, just nodding as she listened.
She was so patient, so understanding.
At one point she sat down on her bed and, holding my hand, indicated me to sit beside her.
It felt surreal to be talking of her erotic lingerie and me getting erections and ejaculating at the slightest thought of her wearing those stockings and suspenders.
In another way it was a great relief that at last she knew how I felt about my bedroom obsession with her.
When I had finished my story she leant forward, kissing me gently on the cheek.
She explained that she understood how I felt and reassured me it was quite natural for a boy to feel like that about his Mum, and it would be alright if I continued to use her lingerie.
She added that Dad used to love sniffing her pants from the linen basket and she understood the power female pheromones held over some men.
Then further shocked me by saying she didn’t mind me masturbating with her lingerie as long as I washed my hands first and didn’t actually come on them or the bed!
Then, still gently holding my hand, she lightened the moment by saying at least now she knew what to buy me for my next birthday present!
Almost as an afterthought she asked if I had told anyone about my lingerie secrets and how I felt about her.
I tried to reassure her that it was a deep secret kept secure in my head. If I had have mentioned my kinky fetish at college I would have been labeled a pervert for sure, and it would never have left me.
She nodded, but I had the feeling she didn’t really believe me.
So, after relating my most cringe-worthy, intimate and shameful sexual fantasies about her, she simply smiled and told me to go get ready for our evening meal.
Later that evening a couple of my college friends came round our house to compare homework projects.
We sat and chatted as usual but I was intrigued to watch how the other guys reacted to Mum.
I needn’t have worried. When she came in with hot drinks and biscuits they thanked her as normal then just got on with what we were doing. Neither seemed even remotely aware she was anything other than my Mum.
But I studied her closely as she moved among us on the pretext of tidying up.
On the face of it she appeared her usual cuddly Mum, but I followed her eyes as she scanned the guys faces for any signs of their knowledge of my secret, sniggering or for any overtly sexual interest in her. But there was non.
In hindsight she probably assumed I must have taken my friends upstairs for them to ogle at her lingerie.
Then, just as she was leaving the room through the door behind my preoccupied friends, she paused for a moment, framed in the doorway, twisted her body three quarters towards me, stretched her sweater tightly to show the exciting curves of her breasts. Then with one hand, lifted her hair off her neck in a casual up-do, with the other she held up a pair of her black seamed stockings and pretended to inhale.
On her ears she wore the white circles of her alter ego’s ivory-white earrings.
For a couple seconds I was stunned and I think my jaw dropped. Then she winked at me and smiled as she let go of her hair. Then she was gone.
After that, my head was in turmoil.
I had of course got the usual ramrod erection and struggled to gain my composure lest my friends saw my confusion and began asking awkward questions.
But I somehow managed to make it appear I was doing my course project work. Eventually my erection subsided.
Later, when my friends had left we sat watching TV together on the sofa as if nothing had happened.
Mum said nothing of my earlier sexual confessions, nor of her provocative tease at me in the doorway.
Towards midnight we turned off the TV, said goodnight and I drifted off to my bed as she got things ready for breakfast in the morning.
I lay in bed listening to her moving around downstairs. After a little while I heard her switch off the lights, come quietly upstairs and heard the click of the bedroom door closing.
She moved around her room for a few minutes then I heard a draw slide open and soon after the house went quiet.
With nothing to hear but plenty to think about, I switched off the light, curled up in the fetal position and tried to go to sleep – but it was impossible.
My mind was a maelstrom of desire and emotion, churning the events of the day over and over, like an endless video.
But at some point I must have drifted off because I was wakened by Mum calling me to get up or I’d be late.
On college days she always made me a cooked breakfast, to ‘set me up for the day,’ as she was fond of saying.
After showering, shaving and dressing I made my way downstairs, but hesitated on the last couple of steps to gain my composure. But needn’t have bothered. She must have heard me and shouted her usual, “Good a morning love, did you sleep well? Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Thanks Mum”, I shouted back from the dining room, “D’you think you do me a piece of fried bread please?”
“There’s something tastier than fried bread here for you love, come and see!” she called back.
I walked into the kitchen and froze in my tracks.
Mum had her back to me but was bending down adjusting her skirt.
It was hitched up high on one thigh showing the top of a sheer black nylon stocking. I stepped closer and saw she was fastening a stocking top to one of three thin black suspender straps.
I stood speechless, my eyes transfixed on the long straight seams of her stockings, following them down to those deeply erotic ‘fuck me’ heels.
Her skirt was hitched up just high enough to show one tantalizing cheek of her ass and the sheer black lace of her knickers.
Still bending over she craned her head to one side, her eyes working down my body, finally fixating on my bulging crotch.
“Are my seams straight love? Check them for me. They should be perfectly straight from the stocking top to the heel. Adjust them for me if they need it,” she asked innocently.
“Y..yess Mum,” I stammered.
“Do you really like my legs Jack?” she said with a smile.
I just nodded, my mouth agape like a village idiot. This couldn’t be my Mum! She didn’t do stuff like that. I mean, I’d never heard her swear, even once, in our whole lives.
Then she straightened up, smoothed down her skirt and turned towards me.
“Are these the right colour stockings and suspenders you were telling me about yesterday love? Is this how I look in your dreams? Am I wearing them properly?”
I nodded, not knowing what to say.
“Anyway,” she said, “You go and lay the breakfast table love and I’ll do that fried bread for you. Get a move on or we’ll both be late.”
Then my brain switched on and I said,”What d’you say I take a photo of you in that glamour pose, y’know, to go towards my portfolio Mum? Y’never know, the photos might come in useful in the future?”
She smiled and nodding said, “Better make it quick love, I don’t want to be late for work.” As I left the room she added, “These photos are just for us Jack, definitely not for any portfolio!”
“Okay Mum!, No problem!” I shouted back, racing into the next room to recover the camera from my college bag.
A couple of minutes later I was shooting photos of her while she pretended to adjust her stockings, firing off instructions to her like a pro.
And in turn she responded like a trained model, moving to catch the light, posing to emphasise her most photogenic features.
My best shots were taken at stocking top height. I managed to catch the morning sun streaming in through the kitchen window and creating highlights on the black silk.
These shimmering lines on the taut stockings emphasized the erotic curves of her shapely legs, so fascinating to stocking fetishists like me.
I was surprised when she agreed to one pose that definitely pushed the boundaries of any normal mother son relationship. But she didn’t hesitate for a heartbeat when I described what I wanted.
She stood with her back to me, skirt hitched up to her hips, legs spread in a wide ‘A’.
The seams of her stockings formed two sides of an equilateral triangle. Her ankles turned sharply inwards, further drawing the eye to the height and slenderness of her seductive stiletto heels.
Her ass and stockings were a joy of erotic curves, lines and symmetry. The black suspender straps drew the dark stocking tops into perfect geometric curves, tracing the bewitching globes of her sexy booty.
I positioned her to catch the streaming sun light, creating contrasting highlights that traced her curves and cast deep shadows under her butt cheeks and the sensuous ‘V’ between her thighs.
But there was still something not quite right in the composition. It was those lacy nickers. She had put them on correctly over her suspenders and normally they would have looked sensational.
I must have been totally absorbed in my photography otherwise I would never have dared ask.
“Can you, er… just take those nickers off for this shot Mum? I want to capture the beautiful curves of your butt and they spoil the effect I want?”
This time there was a slight hesitation, then, while keeping her back to me, she slid down her silk nickers, slowly and deliberately like a stripper, one long leg at a time. Unknown to her I kept taking burst shots, trying to catch a magic moment. But try as I did, I couldn’t get a look at her mysterious pussy. As I couldn’t see any velvet from a bush I concluded she must shave herself there.
I can still remember thinking this was what I wanted to do after college, spend the rest of my life creating mind-blowing images of the female body.
For a few minutes I was lost in a fascinating whirl of camera flashes and deeply meaningful eye contact.
Then it was over. She had put her nickers back on, smoothed down her skirt and we were standing close together, reviewing the shots with her on the camera LCD display.
“I don’t want you to keep any photos that could identify me Jack,” she said seriously. “I’ve seen the consequences when intimate photos get in circulation. They wreck lives. Promise me you will delete them love?”
I thought carefully about what she had said and later deleted several good shots that showed her face and could easily identify the interior of our house. It made sense.
“I hadn’t realised what a flair you have for glamour photography,” she said studying one particularly striking photo of her legs and ass.
“You even managed to make my tired old legs look good!” she added.
I didn’t think she was fishing for compliments, just telling me how she felt about herself.
“Honestly Mum,” I said, “Your legs look so cool, I’m sure you could get some modelling work for your own catalogues if you only pushed yourself a bit more?”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel good?”, she said with an odd rising intonation which made it sound more like a question.
“Tell you what, I’ll print some of these off tonight, and if you bring home a couple of those cool lingerie catalogues your team make, then we can, like, compare your legs with those of professional stocking models? What do you say?”
“If I can remember love?” she said casually. But I caught a glint of exhilaration in her eyes that assured me she would.
By the time I had put away my camera, laid the table and sat down, Mum came in with a pot of tea in one hand and my hot cooked breakfast in the other.
I glanced down at her legs only to be disappointed. She had replaced her heels and stockings with boring tan tights and her usual flat work shoes.
Tan tights? Jeez! Who the fuck cares about tan tights and flat shoes? Tights are airless, sweaty, inaccessible and fucking ugly. Flat shoes lower the hips and destroy the erotic silhouette of a beautiful woman.
But as usual I said nothing, my eyes now fixated on the cooked breakfast. But inside, my mind whirled with dreamy images of her posing for me in those alluring stockings and suspenders, and the tantalising glimpses of her sexy ass.
Surely there couldn’t be one guy in a million who could get his sexy mother to take off her nickers for him!
Did I imagine it?
That was my Monday morning.
It was impossible to concentrate at college for the rest of that day. My mind kept returning to Mum. Each time I thought of her stockings I had another erection. I was so close to seeing her pussy that I had to jerk off twice in the lavatories to ease the overwhelming thrills of excitement filling my imagination.
Mum was already waiting in the car at the college gates when I came out in the late afternoon.
Almost without thinking I glanced down at her legs and was electrified to see she was again wearing stockings.
Her working skirt was hitched up just enough to reveal stocking tops and the straps of her fastens. Her shining raven hair was styled in a classic elegant french twist, emphasising the beautiful arch of her neck.
Before starting the car she asked me to pass her handbag to her from the back seat.
Releasing my seatbelt I twisted around, stretching an arm across to retrieve the handbag from the rear seat. It was then I saw she had brought a small stack of lingerie magazines. I smiled inwardly knowing we would be discussing our lingerie preferences later.
Turning back to face front again I handed her the handbag.
“Jeez. What do you keep in there?” I said, “It must weigh, like a ton!”
“A girl must keep some secrets from her man,”she said, shooting me a smile. “Besides, you don’t want to go rooting in this dustbin love, you never know what you’ll find!”
Then she rummaged around in the bag for a half minute or so before retrieving a lipstick and perfume atomiser.
Aware I was watching, she reached up and twisted the rear view mirror towards her. Then slowly and deliberately she removed the top of the lipstick.
Gradually she twisted the base of the golden cylinder, allowing the glossy red stick to reveal itself, like a penis getting an erection.
The top of the lipstick had taken on the curve of her lips through regular use. I watched, hypnotised as she meticulously applied the colour, first sweeping the curve of her lower lip, then following the sensuous outline of her top lip.
As she moved her head, the sun caught the fine lanugo hair above her top lip, creating a spiritual halo around her profile.
She finished with a gentle wipe of her little finger to remove a slight imperfection on her bottom lip. She paused to examine her work in the mirror before returning the lipstick to her bag.
Then, seemingly oblivious of my attention, picked up the perfume atomiser and gave a quick spray to both sides of her neck, beneath her ears.
Just then, quite involuntarily, I auto-ejaculated in my trousers, it surprised me and my body writhed a little in ecstasy. I groaned aloud as her perfume filled my head, and began to hallucinate images of her taking off her nickers.
When my ejaculation had ceased I became aware that the faint smell of my semen was mixing with her heady scent.
Obviously aware of my embarrassment she said, “I think I better freshen up those trousers and boxer shorts your wearing when we get home love, if that’s alright?”
It was all so matter-of-fact and every day. I had just come hard and pulsing in my pants at the sight and smell of my mother. Impossible to miss, she seemed to understand how I felt and sensitively made no humiliating comments.
“Put my bag back on the seat for me my love,” she said, readjusting the mirror and starting the engine.
I just grunted something, clicked on my seatbelt, returned the bag then turned my head to look away. But I too could smell congealing semen on me.
In the window I focussed on her reflection and saw Mum smile to herself, turn on the car radio and we drove home without speaking further.
Unknown to me at that time, far from being repulsed at the odour of my semen, she was secretly aroused and emboldened to realise my seed had been spent in erotic desire of her.
While she got tea ready I sat at the table and completed some written work to accompany my college project. For the first time that day I was able to concentrate and somehow I managed to get it all done. But in the back of my mind I knew I had another close encounter of the erotic kind awaiting me later.
“Are you ready to eat love?” she called from the ktchen, snapping me out of my concentration.
“Yes Mum,” I called back,” I’ll like, just go upstairs to take a shower and change.”
By the time I came back to the dining room 20 minutes later she was already seated opposite my place at the table, looking completely different than when we had driven home.
She had changed into figure hugging jeans and a tight sleeveless army green vest without a bra, her nipples standing proud through the thin material.
Her hair was in a different up-do, beautifully arranged at the back, and there again were the ivory-white earrings.
However it was her face that transfixed me. She had put on delicate green eye shadow and her lips were made up with perfectly applied red wet-look lipstick. Her expensive Chanel perfume filled my head, making me feel slightly intoxicated.
She looked so much younger. So beautiful. So sexy.
I wanted to touch her, run my hands over the curves of her delicious breasts and smother her lips with passionate kisses.
“Still like what you see Jack?” She asked softly. “Does it do the job for you love?”
“Jeez yes Mum'” I said, my eyes fixated on her firm breasts and the blunt pegs of her erect nipples.
“This morning you asked me to fetch home a selection of the lingerie and makeup catalogues and brochures we produce at work.”
“Yeah, cool,” I said, trying to sound offhand as if it didn’t really matter, “So did you remember?”
“I thought you’d already spotted them in the car love,” she said with a smile.
After clearing away the meal things and helping her to wash up, we settled at the table. I carefully laid out all the photos I’d printed off earlier and those taken on the night she went out with friends.
I could tell she was fascinated with my photos of her. And there was no doubt they were good, making her look like a regular mature model.
After comparing the shots of her with those in the catalogues she had to agree she did look good.
“D’you really think I could get work as a mature model?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you what we can do,”I said, “We could work on a cool portfolio of you that you can take and show your boss?”
Tuesday was always the only day Mum didn’t drive me to college. She had to leave early and I took the bus. More often than not I didn’t see her before she left, but she always shouted goodbye up the stairs to me before going out the door .
This Tuesday was different. I was still fast asleep when she called me from her bedroom.
“Jack! ” she called.
“Yes Mum,” I answered sleepily.
“Come here and zip me up will you love?”
Still half asleep and wiping grit from my eyes I padded barefoot into her bedroom wearing only a ‘T’ shirt and shorts.
Mum was standing with her back to me, her head turned in profile studying herself in the dressing table mirror.
She was wearing a new kingfisher blue dress which was open to her lower back.
“Zip me up will you love, I can’t quite reach it?”
“Yes of course Mum,” I said, all the sleep suddenly gone from me.
My heart began beating like a train.
My hands trembled at my proximity to her inviting bare back.
My throat went dry.
I took my time raising the zip, allowing me to study her underwear. Low down was the line of a black ‘G’ string and the lace of a suspender belt.
In the middle of her back were two small moles almost hidden by thin bra straps.
Unable to restrain myself I put a hand on her back, running it gently up under her bra straps then down, following the curve of her spine to the base of the zip.
Then, hesitating only for a second, slid my hand down inside her dress, to the crack of her ass. Having circled her firm warm cheeks I slid a finger deep into her crack, searching out the small rosebud of her butt.
“Last time I checked the zip didn’t go that low Jack,” she said, giving her ass a sexy wiggle, “Come on, zip me up love or I’ll be late!”
Reluctantly I withdrew my hand, but took a quick sniff of my finger before returning to the zip. It smelled of shower gel, perfume and just a tiny hint of her rosebud.
Inevitably I got an erection and was sorely tempted to put my arms around her and kiss her neck.
The zip hesitated near the top so I stepped forward to gain more purchase, my prick pressing against the cheeks of her curvy ass.
Mum must have felt it as she seemed to press back onto me increasing the erotic sensation I was already trying to control.
She shimmied sexily as I took hold of the small zip and slid it up to the top. With the back of my other hand I caressed the soft lanugo hair on her pale neck.
After the zip was secured she turned around and blew my mind.
The dress had a graceful but low-cut neckline. She must have been wearing a push-up bra which forced her breasts together and upwards, like those 18th century paintings of French aristocracy beauties whose breasts pushed out like small melons.
I think that was the moment I first needed to fuck her. I don’t know where the urgency came from but it washed away any satisfaction with just looking at her and her clothes.
The primeval instinct to rut.
My heart thumped hard against my ribs, rushing blood to all the muscles, ready for me to grab her with animal strength and raw lust. My prick was rock hard and pulsed against my stomach – ready for action.
Quite how I held back from forcing her down on the bed and pushing up her skirt I shall never know. Those breasts were so inviting, so close to touch. I knew I could rip the front of that dress open with both hands then slake 18 years of desire in a couple of minutes.
I was close, very close to the point when the animal brain blanks out any thoughts of guilt or conscience and becomes deaf to cries of pain or suffering.
My face must have changed as the blood drained away, needed elsewhere urgently.
Luckily Mum must have realised that at that moment I was not her obedient son, but a huge, hairy, Viking warrior intent on rape and pillage.
Then she broke the tension by asking softly if I was feeling okay?
If she had made the mistake of even brushing a hand against my prick I would have raped her without a moments thought.
Instead we stood looking into each other’s eyes, saying nothing, hands down to our sides.
Gradually the madness passed. My heart rate slowed and muscles began to relax.
Colour slowly flowed back into my face.
My breathing slowed as I stepped back from the abyss.
After a while my erection became flaccid.
But from that moment we both understood that one way or another we would have to fuck, and very soon.
The hard way or the easy way.
That the teasing had become close to taking.
Much later, Mum confided that she had sensed my overwhelming desire for her, and recognised I was about to lose control.
She had been pushing my turbulent emotions too hard and realised she had to ease off the pressure on me, or her plans would be destroyed in one moment of brutal orgy.
She also knew that she had succeeded in taking over my young mind, filling it with a great passion for her. One part of her head was thrilled by the power she now held over me, the other feared the tsunami of lust she had created and wondered if she had the defences to withstand it’s landfall?
At that moment, fate decided to turn it’s wheel, her hand went to her stomach and she buckled slightly, eyes wincing in pain.
“Sorry to spoil this moment love,”she said anxiously, “Women’s problems. My period has come a few days early.”
Then she went into the toilet in search of tampons.
I didn’t know what to do. She had never actually mentioned her menstrual cycle to me before.
But I was aware of the changes in her for a few days each month.
I slumped onto her bed, my head in my hands, unable to take it all in. Tears of frustration were just beneath the surface.
My heart rate gradually slowed and my mind cleared into sanity.
After a few minutes I heard the toilet flush but she didn’t come out for another 20 minutes or so.
When she did she had washed off her makeup, combed out her hair and changed into sober working clothes. She looked pale and in some discomfort.
“Get me a couple of ibuprofen and a glass of water would you please Jack, my stomach cramps have started,” she said, one hand on her stomach, the other holding her blue dress.
I hadn’t realised that another seismic shift in our relationship had just occurred, she was talking to me as if I were her husband. Nevertheless my heart went out to her and I quickly switched from would-be rapist mode back to loving son without thinking.
The bathroom now clear, I showered, shaved off my overnight growth, changed for college and made my way downstairs. There was a lot of stuff fogging my thinking and those 20 minutes helped restore my sanity.
I found Mum sitting at the table holding a heated pad against her stomach. I sat opposite her, feeling a mixture of sadness and concern.
“Y’never said why you were all dressed up this morning,” I said softly, handing her a cup of hot coffee.
“There’s an important lingerie photo shoot at the studio today, so I thought I would ask the art director if I could be considered for some modelling work,” she said, sipping her drink.
I reached across, placing my hand on hers in an act of pure love and concern.
After a couple more sips of coffee, she continued, “But I always feel so rotten on the first day of my period and don’t think I could face him today.”
“How long do they last,” I said without a hint of embarrassment, “Your periods I mean?”
Mum looked relieved that I was prepared to talk openly about her menstrual discomfort and gently squeezed my hand.
“I’m one of the lucky ones, I get one day of bad cramps and a heavy bleed, then it’s gone within 2 or 3 days. Not like my mother who suffered terribly for 7 or 8 days,” she said.
“So I should be back to my old self by Thursday night of Friday Morning at the latest.”
She had almost finished her coffee by then and glanced anxiously at her watch.
“Sorry I’m not at my best Jack, I do love dressing for you but you’ll have to wait until the end of the week for more,” she added.
Driven by what ever emotion I didn’t know, I stood up and walked around the table to her. Then I held her beautiful face in both hands and kissed her softly on her lips. She closed her eyes and a tear rolled down her cheek.
“I love you Mum. I love you, not your clothes,” I said softly, returning my lips to hers.
“But your cool stockings and suspenders do help get me fired up,” I added with a wide grin. “Want me to drive you to work my darling?,” I said, using that term of intimacy to her for the first time in our lives.
Mum nodded, smiled and stood up wiping away her tears.
“Come on my lovely Jack,” she said, taking hold of my hand. “Help me on with my coat and grab your college bag.”
“Text me at college during your lunch break,” I told her, “I’ll be thinking about you all morning,” and held up her lips for me to kiss again. Then I drove her to work.
‘Pow!’ We had fallen head over heels in love, just like that!
At lunch break my phone vibrated, so I took it out to read her text:
‘I’ve had a rotten morning love. Can’t wait to get home again. Pick me up just after 5pm as the shoot is taking longer than we anticipated.
I love you.
I read and re-read her text, trying to take in, ‘Sue’ and ‘I love you.’
My heart pulse quickening and my chest felt like it would explode with passion.
Instead of seeing Mum in my minds eye dressed for sex, for the first time I could only see her sweet face and I longed to kiss her soft lips.
My hands shaking with emotion, I composed and sent my reply:
‘My heart’s bursting with love for you Sue my angel. I can’t wait to kiss your soft lips and caress your beautiful breasts.
Your son and lover
When the `message sent` indicator flashed on, I began to question if what I had written had been appropriate?
A minute later my phone vibrated again, it was from Sue:
‘I feel the same love. But you must take more care what you write.
Don’t forget who I am and what we are doing!
And remember what you promised about not sharing certain photos!!
Can you delete all our messages, just in case?
As ever she was the one with both feet on the ground, the one thinking ahead, the one acutely aware of consequences.
And she faced an upwards struggle to get the immature me to see the real world and the terrible risks she was taking.
I immediately deleted our messages then from both my ‘sent’ and ‘deleted’ folders.
As agreed, I was waiting outside the studio a little after 5pm. A couple of minutes later Mum came out chatting animatedly with a tall guy who I recognised as Mike Jeavons, the studio boss.
They shook hands, said goodnight and Mum got into the car beside me.
It was hard for me to resist kissing her, so I settled for squeezing her hand. She gave me a long squeeze back.
Checking she had clicked on her seat belt, I indicated and drew the car out into the rush-hour traffic.
“Guess what!” she said still animated. “I plucked up courage to ask Mike about some modelling work and he wants to give me a test shoot and look at my portfolio on Friday!”
“But that’s terrific,” I said checking my mirror and changing lanes. “Will you be up to it?”
“I should have finished my period by Thursday night”, she said, “But can we have a portfolio ready by then?”
I thought for a moment then said, “I think I can put together something pretty cool, but we’ve only got two nights left so we’ll have to start shooting, like tomorrow night?”
I quickly turned to look at her and she gave me a nod of agreement.
“Let’s start planning the poses, makeup and lingerie after we’ve had dinner tonight. I’ll have to buy a few new things in my lunch break tomorrow. Now get me home love, so I can use my heat pad on these horrible stomach cramps!”
That night I cooked our meal and washed up while Mum showered and changed into silver-grey pyjamas with matching night bra to protect her sensitive nipples.
Having washed her hair she wrapped it in a twirl, forming a sort of turban.
I then showered, putting on a sleeveless black `T` shirt and running shorts.
With the TV switched off we settled down together on the sofa. I had a note pad and pen.
Mum had a heating pad on her stomach as well as her lingerie brochures and an envelope with all my photos of her.
We kissed affectionally before she curled up into to my body, her back into my chest, my legs under hers.
She smelled of fresh rain and simple cream soap. I nuzzled my head into her wet neck, kissing her fresh skin and told her I loved her. She purred with pleasure.
I had one hairy arm around her which I reached around and cupped her left breast. Sue snuggled in tighter to me when I held her breast, but she whispered for me not to touch her nipples as they were always very tender during her period.
I could have sat like that forever, but she wanted to work on the plans for our own photo shoot.
Slowly we worked through the brochures, circling the sort of poses she thought would best suit her figure. I jotted down notes of the backdrops, lights and reflectors I would need. Some of it I knew I could loan from my college tutor.
Sue was surprisingly interested as I explained what I knew of the various techniques used in boudoir photography.
I emphasised that early morning light is the illumination of choice for portraits. However I planned to borrow a soft light box for her close ups.
I suggested we take a series of shots with her sitting on the stairs, lit only by the window on the upper landing and a single Lupolex light subtly positioned through the handrails.
But she asked most questions about the shots I planned of her posing naked and those wearing lingerie on her bed. We discussed how we could best use the warm early morning natural light from her bedroom window and a single backlight to give a halo to her hair and body.
Gradually we drew up a schedule of shots, clothes, backgrounds and settings. We also agreed, given available time and limited equipment, that many of her portfolio images would be in black and white.
As we chatted I explained how much time I would need to work on each image in Photoshop before printing and mounting.
I anticipated working most of Thursday night, but said it would be worth it if she got modelling work as a result.
Sue seemed pleased with our plan and had a shortlist of underwear, stockings and makeup she planned to buy next day.
Every few minutes she turned her face up to mine and we kissed as only lovers can. Occasionally I slid my hand down her thigh to her feet, tickling them and receiving playful jabs in the ribs as my reward.
We felt so good, so natural, as if we were meant to be together.
I instinctively understood not to touch her private area because she had told me earlier how she felt unclean there while wearing tampons.
Later she unwound the towel from her hair and I helped rub it dry.
A couple of times I got up and made us a hot drink. Each time Sue shouted me to hurry up and come and kiss her.
I’d never seen her look so wonderful. It was a magical time and I knew from her kisses that she loved me totally and utterly.
When we had completed our plan it was getting quite late, Sue stood up, held out her hand and we went up to bed.
We spent all that first night together wrapped in each other’s bodies, just kissing and getting used to the feel and smell of each other.
Naturally I got several hard erections which I pressed between the cheeks of her ass. Each time she pushed back on me and squeezed my hand.
Once when I got too frisky she pulled the hairs on my thighs, which quickly cooled my ardour.
For a while we just lay together, but both of us were acutely aware of the elephant in the room – the big question waiting to be answered.
Then, in the early hours of the morning I had a particularly hard erection which I pressed quite aggressively into her and whispered, “I want you now!”
Sue turned over in bed, brushed a hand gently over my face, leaned forward and kissed me.
“I know how you feel Jack, I feel the same. But we are straying into deep waters. I want you to sleep with me as much as you do,” she whispered.
I said nothing but my heart thumped hard inside my chest cavity.
“But I have to get it right. Don’t worry my angel, one way or another we will make love, safely and soon. We can’t ever risk me having your baby. I have to think more about it,” she said, turning away from me and snuggling in close.
I answered by kissing her neck and gently fondling her breasts.
The question asked but not really answered, we both drifted off to sleep.
It was early when I woke with a jolt.
Early, cold, I had a ‘morning wood’ erection that threatened to break my neck, and someone was leaning on my chest.
“God, but you’re a hairy ape!” a voice said.
I opened my eyes and was instantly in paradise. A beautiful angel had visited me and taken hold of my prick.
As I focussed on the silhouette of a woman’s face lit in a magical halo by light from the early morning sun, the voice said with a giggle, “And you fart like a herd of cows!”
“A hairy, silverback gorilla with a smelly bum,” it went on, “just like your Dad, the traitor!”
A hand moved down the shaft of my prick and squeezed a handful of thick black pubic hair.
“Jeez,” I said, struggling to sit up, “What time is it?”
I raised my free hand to shield my eyes from the streaming sunlight.
“I’m fucking freezing!”
It was Sue, one elbow pinning my other arm to the bed and scrubbing at the thick stubble on my chin.
“A grumpy, hairy silverback with a smelly bum, a black penis thicker than my wrist, and in need of a shave!” she giggled again.
She had removed her night bra and her breasts were brushing the thick curly hair on my chest.
After a moment she leaned forward and gently kissed my lips.
I smelled a bouquet of toothpaste, lipstick, soap and perfume.
“A smelly bum gorilla with bad breath and pubic hair like a wooly mammoth, expecting me to masturbate him!”
Now I was wide awake and looking at my splendid mother who had put her hair up, showered and applied faultless make up before the summer sun had hardly risen above the rooftops opposite.
“What time is it?” I asked again, one eye squinting in the sunlight.
“Just after 5:30 am you woolly baboon, and well time you were up” she said.
I groaned at the time but it was obvious there would be no more sleep for me that morning.
“If you want to share my bed you have to share my life young man,” she said. “You forget I’ve been getting up 2 hours before you since you were in nappies. Better get with the programme.”
Then I felt cold liquid running down the shaft of my erection and craned around to see her drizzling baby oil from a bottle onto my shaft.
“If rape is inevitable,” she said, “Best to lie back and enjoy it!”
I slumped my head back onto my pillow and gave in to her.
In truth my prick was only about a couple of inches longer than average but much thicker than most guys I’d seen in the showers.
Dad had insisted I be circumcised at birth, the bare pink head on a dark shaft still looked somehow out of place to me.
Now my prick stood hard in her hand, the glans filled with blood and turning purple. It pulsed with anticipation.
Sue was busy dribbling more oil over my prick.
“You have a beautiful penis Jack,” she said.
“Your dad’s, was this same dark brown and black sort of mottled colour, but yours is thicker than his. I love to just look at it. I can’t understand why the girls at college aren’t queuing up to ride this beauty?”
Once the shaft was well lubed she rubbed oil into her hands from my shaft and gently began to circle the rim of my glans.
“If I’d been a guy with a penis like yours I think I’d have been a porn star,” she with a wicked grin.
At first I bucked and jerked at her hand. Then I began to enjoy the new heighten sensation that her touch brought.
After a few minutes I was able to bear her stroking both head and shaft. It was new, incredibly erotic and I felt myself begin to come.
“I’m coming! I exclaimed!” But she began to gently squeeze the head until the thrill subsided.
After a moment or two she began massaging me again, first with one hand then two.
Fingernails faintly tickling the head.
Fingers forming a ring around the rim.
Palm of hand on head.
Squeezing low down on the shaft.
Massaging my balls.
Then I gasped as I started to come again, stronger and harder this time.
Again she skilfully checked the ejaculation.
Then resumed, this time starting low on the shaft, then gradually increasing speed and lengthening her stroke until her fingers began to touch the rim.
Then I started to writhe in ecstasy, and the muscles in my thighs and abdomen began to ripple involuntarily.
Then it was coming, like a tsunami wave from deep under the sea.
I groaned aloud and almost screamed, “O’h Jeez, Fuck, Fuck, faster, faster!”
I came, shooting strings of semen hard against Sue`s hand that was cupping the head like a small umbrella.
As the waves of ecstasy began to wane she collected the discharge onto her hand and began to gently stroke me again, my semen now the lubricant.
At first I didn’t think I could bear the sensitivity any longer, arching my back off the bed and trying to squirm away from her.
For a while her vigorous hand movements verged on pain, making me feel like screaming.
Then. As she slowed down her long strokes up and down my shaft, I felt strangely excited again, the head still intensely sensitive but wanting more.
Sensing the change in me she began to work the rim around the head until I moaned that I could feel myself coming again.
My face screwed up and both eyes shut as the ejaculation began to erupt for a second time.
My abdomen convulsed as, in one glorious moment, more strings of semen shot from my prick.
“Jesus, fuck, fuck, I’m coming,” I gasped.
But this time the jet stream was directed at me, most of the load dropping hot on my chest, some reached my neck and one shot landed on my lips.
It tasted strangely earthy and salty.
Then it was over and Sue began wiping the cum from her hands and rubbing it vigorously into the black mass of my pubic hair.
The remainder of the semen she wiped onto the hair on my chest.
I lay back, the head of my still erect prick radiation sexual pleasure.
Opening my eyes I saw Sue had now stood up on the bed above me.
Other than for black briefs she was naked, sunlight bathing one side of her beautiful figure. Her nipples stood erect on her firm breasts.
“Well, how was that, smelly bum? Any better than you could do yourself?” She said, smiling down at me.
“Not bad for a MILF!” I said.
“Hmmm, MILF,” she said thoughtfully, Mother I’d Like to Fuck. I like that, but don’t you think MIGF would be more accurate?”
(BTW, that was the first time in my life that I’d heard her use the ‘f’ word!)
“MIGF, I repeated slowly?”
“Mother I’m Going to Fuck!” she said bouncing up and down on the bed. “Now shift your smelly arse off the bed and wash all that cum from your pubes,” she said with a mischievous squeal, then bounced off the bed and made for the door.
For a mature 36 year old, she had the moves of a teenager.
At the bedroom door she stopped and turned, making monkey sounds and moving her arms at me, like a Disney cartoon orangutang.
“Red haired MILF,” I called after her, throwing my legs out of the bed and heading after her.
“Smelly bum silverback!” she called back, sounding like a playful child, “and don’t forget, we need to use this early morning light to take some portfolio photos!”
Twenty minutes later we sat together around the breakfast table, sipping coffee and enjoying the hot buttered toast she had made.
It took a further 15 minutes or so before the shutter on my DSLR clicked on the first pose for our portfolio.
I had feared that Sue might freeze or look wooden through the lens. But I needn’t have worried. She was a natural exhibitionist and the camera loved her.
As so many times before and since I had underestimated her intelligence and resourcefulness. I hadn’t realised that in her day-to-day work in the photographic studio she was helping professional photographers set up and conduct complex shoots.
Nor did I know then that sometimes she assisted with makeup and hair in their discreet boudoir studio.
But as soon as I saw her instinctively turn three-quarter to the camera, arch her lower spine and use gentle `ballet hands` to her face and hair I knew we could get it done.
For me this was to be the first time I see my mother completely nude, and better still, touch her as we adjusted the various poses. When she walked into the bedroom the sight of her caught my breath. But she just padded passed me, her face beaming and following my eyes – daring me to break the contact.
The streaming golden light glowed on her lithe body, softening her skin, and smoothing out any minor imperfections, like a fabric softener.
I knew then why she had given me the hand job before we started. If she hadn`t, I would have struggled to concentrate with a permanent hard-on.
Smart woman. Smart and very much in control.
As agreed the night before, both Sue and I had brought a couple of props with us. It was quite normal to give the model something to hold or cover areas of imperfection or modesty.
I had brought a spare camera, a pair of women’s spectacles and a Paisley pattern scarf to drape over her should she feel the need to be covered.
In the end we used only the spectacles to make her look like a sexy secretary having a steamy affair in her lunch hour. And boy, did she look the part.
We began working down our pre-prepared list of natural light poses beginning with breasts, ass and lower back.
To get the best possible butt shot I half closed the window blinds, restricting the light into a narrow shaft. Then to add maximum sensuality to the shot I used a water spray to apply glistening drops to her curves. The effect was stunning.
I used a similar shot to catch the curves of her breasts and nipples. Both shots tightly cropped below her neck and above her crotch.
But it was Sue herself who composed the shots to capture the sexy curves of her own arching lower back. Having seen this shot done many times in the studio before, she had brought with her two long necklaces of coloured beads. These she wore back-to-front draping them long and low, gently brushing against the cheeks of her butt. The vertical line of the necklace seeming to emphasise the negative space between them and the feminine curve of her lower spine.
All too soon it was time to stop the shoot and change back into our Cinderella clothes and personas. But not before I booted up the PC and dropped in the SD card from the camera.
Quickly scrolling through the shots we agreed on ten poses good enough to work on in Photoshop.
As I powered down the PC, Sue still naked slid her arms around my waist and held her face up to me to kiss. She looked and felt like someone from an erotic dream.
As we kissed, I cupped her breasts and, for the first time my fingers touched her erect nipples.
“I can’t believe how well you look this morning?” I said, “How are your nipples?”
“You missed a trick there didn’t you Silverback, the sensitivity doesn’t last long. Still, you’ll know next time. And before you ask, no, I’m still unclean!” she said with a smile.
But I hadn’t needed telling.
During a couple of the poses I had glanced down to catch a glimpse of her sensuous shaven pussy and noticed the faint white string of a tampon.
“Sue?” I said, my tone indicating a big question would follow.
She slid her arms from my waist and took a step back, folding her arms as if protecting her breasts.
“There’s so much about you I don’t understand, but really want to.”
Her eyes were searching mine, trying to get ahead of the question.
“The whole subject of periods, cramps, bleeding and tampons is something I’ve only heard about in guy talk. But if we are going to live together as lovers I need to know.”
Still silent. Still waiting for my bombshell.
“Will you show me, your tampon I mean. Like how you change them, explain how they help, even what they look like.”
Immediately I asked the question I regretted saying it. But too late.
`Boom!`my bombshell just hit home.
I could see it visibly shook her, and she needed a couple of seconds to take it in.
Then without speaking, she took my hand and led me towards the en-suite bathroom adjoining her bedroom.
She gave me a look that asked if I really wanted to do this.
Then, just outside the toilet door I paused and put a finger gently on her lips, a signal for her not to speak.
Raising a hand for her not to move, I reached behind the door, retrieving her silver-grey silk dressing gown and held it open for her to step into.
Then, reaching my arms around her waist, I fastened the thin belt.
When the belt was secure and Sue had regained her modesty I leaned forward, first kissing her neck then whispering softly against her ear.
“You don’t have to do this Sue. Jeez,I should never have asked.”
She paused before turning to face me. Her eyes again flickering across my face, searching for I knew not what.
Then she slowly nodded, took my hand again and we entered her bathroom.
The bathroom pervaded all of her very personal perfumes and odours. It was her intimate domain, making me feel out of place, an intruder.
It was a large, high ceiling room, typical of the Victorian tastes at the time the house was built.
The tub was in the middle of the floor with a toilet pedestal to one side against a tiled wall.
On a low shelf beside the pedestal was a small plastic box, which she opened and took out a pack of tampons. Taking one out of its wrapping she handed me a pink plastic applicator. She pulled back the plunger and offered it to me to hold.
In silence I examined it and handed it back to her.
“Jack, are you really sure you want to see this?”
“I’m sure. I feel I must be able to understand what happens to you, what to expect and what I can do to make life easier for you. So I’m sure.”
Then, pausing only for a moment she stood beside the toilet pedestal and lifted one leg on to the lid. Her dressing gown fell open forming an open triangle framing her long leg, lower abdomen and the landing strip of her neat Brazilian vaginal hair.
She looked acutely uncomfortable, like her most intimate space had been violated.
Again the searching look into my eyes then she reached down between her legs and slowly withdrew the white string, bringing with it the soiled tampon from her vagina.
It hung down on the string, like a small white mouse, showing odd smears and clots of dark red blood. There was only the faintest whiff of an unpleasant odour from the blood.
She then released it into a disposable plastic bag, sealed it, and dropped it into a waste bin.
Strangely this didn’t repulse or revolt me. It just seemed so natural, a new aspect of womanhood I hadn’t known before.
“That’s awesome,” I said, but I was staring between her thighs not at the tampon.
It was the first real look at her cunt other than the quick glances I’d taken while photographing her.
And it was a beautiful cunt.
Not like those I’d seen in my girlie magazines. I’d imagined all vaginas were great ugly gashes with thick lips and pieces of raw meat hanging out.
Sue’s was, well, beautiful!
Not an ugly gash but a perfectly sculptured symmetrical slot, yes a slot, I can’t find any better word.
It was only slightly higher up the front than I expected and instead of protruding lips, hers was gently rounded inwards, as if a craftsman had lovingly smoothed and chamfered it to perfection.
Sue had waxed away almost all her pubic hair, leaving only a narrow strip of close-cut lawn above the entrance.
It was simply the most beautiful cunt I could have imagined.
And it was hard to resist reaching out and slowly run a finger down it`s length.
“You must let me help you insert the clean one?” I asked, tearing my eyes away from her slot and back to her sad face.
“Are you sure? Your Dad ran a mile whenever I mentioned anything remotely about menstrual cycles.”
“I want to know everything about you,” I said firmly, getting down on one knee in front of her.
Then together she guided my hands as we inserted the applicator into her perfect slot and pressed the plunger to move it into place.
When it was done, we stood close, our bodies touching as we washed our hands.
When we were dry, Sue threw her arms around my neck, tears in her eyes and turned her face up to be kissed.
“That was the most sensitive and intimate thing any man has ever done for me,” she sobbed. “Now I’m even more sure than I was that you’re the man for me.”
Then her face broke into a wicked smile, “I’m glad you didn’t want to photograph that scene!”
That broke the poignancy of the moment and we both laughed aloud, easing the tension between us.
“One more thing I want you to know Jack, while we are here.” She reached across to another shelf and picked up a strange looking object to show me.
It was a sort of cricket ball size red plastic bulb with a black tube sticking from it. The tube had a series of small holes in it, like a shower head does.
“When the bleeding finally stops, I use this to clean and purify my vagina with a solution of warm water and vinegar. It’s called a vaginal douche. So when we do make love for the first time you can be sure I’m clean and pure for you. And you can kiss me there if you want to? I’d like that!”
I think she saw me imagining kissing her vagina, so she helped embroider my mental pictures.
“Your Dad, the traitor, loved kissing my lips there, running the tip of his tongue around the edges and then inside me.”
She paused to let the mental images whirl around my head.
She must have sensed the importance of this moment to me and had chosen to add further eroticism to my anticipation of taking her.
“He often said they were my other beautiful lips. Soon they will be yours to kiss Jack, yours to run your lips round and caress with your sweet tongue. Early on in our marriage he persuaded me to wax the hairs from there so he could enjoy the feel and shape of me. Even though he’s gone, I still like the feeling of smoothness and cleanliness that it gives me. Don’t get me wrong, waxing hurts like hell but it’s worth it. Especially now, since I’ve got a better man to be beautiful for!”
It was 8:45 by the time we set off in the car.
That morning I had nothing timetabled at college until 11 am, but I needed that time to collect the soft light box, back drops and extra lights I would need later.
So I drove Sue to work and kept the car for the day.
I was waiting in the car with the engine running as Sue came out of the house, paused to lock the door and slid in to the passenger seat.
She looked so different from her usual dull work image.
Her raven hair was drawn back over her ears and secured by a black velvet bow into a sort of loose pony tail hanging down her back.
She wore a knee length grey-green dress made of the sort of stretchy fabric that clings to every curve, over it a smart black business jacket and completed with black stockings with those `fuck me` heels.
Her makeup was immaculate but subdued.
She shot a smile at me as she got into the car, pausing deliberately to hitch up her skirt to reveal glorious stocking tops and suspenders.
While she struggled to fasten her seat belt I reached across and ran a hand down her thigh, briefly caressing her stocking tops. It felt amazing.
She looked and smelled very desirable, her lips a gentle pink with matching nude pink nail polish.
Very smart, very businesslike and very, very fuckable.
And for the first time in my life I began to feel a tinge of jealousy for the men at her work who would be drooling over her all day.
“How do I look in this outfit love?” She asked me, checking her makeup in her vanity mirror.
I ran my eyes over her, from the top of her raven hair, following every curve, past those alluring stocking tops down to the tips of her patent black `fuck me` heels.
As I glanced into her lap, I pictured her beautifully sculptured hairless pussy.
Only inches away.
And only hours away until I could claim it as mine to kiss, touch and enter with my hard cock.
My brain screamed at me to push up her skirt at touch her there, sliding a finger gently into her slot.
But instead I said, “Jeez, but you look stunning Sue, perfect in every way and so very professional.” Then we joined the rush hour traffic.
“So you approve then?” she said.
“I’m drooling, like worshipping your body,” I said honestly, “I’m so much in love with you it feels as if my heart will burst!”
“I feel the same Jack, if I could, we would pull off the road and we could make love on the back seat. I used to enjoy opening my legs across the seats while your dad had me! It was uncomfortable but very sexy, very exciting. But now that’s your job.”
Instantly my head swam with images of her, skirt up to her waist, no panties and legs spread wide over the seats…
Then simultaneously Sue screamed and the great roar of a truck bullhorn brought me back to my senses.
Preoccupied with erotic images I had drifted out of my lane into the path of a huge red truck, it’s lights flashing in warning.
Just in time I regained control and swerved back into my own lane, the big truck screamed past, missing us by inches. The truck driver had his arm out his window giving me the finger.
Other cars behind and in front sounded their horns in protest.
A few drivers overtook, giving me the jerking hand sign that they thought I was a wanker.
We drove a mile or so without speaking, Sue wisely shimmied down her skirt and held her shoulder bag close to her breasts.
I tried to concentrate on my driving.
A couple of minutes later we turned into the studio car park where she worked.
I stopped the car, switched off the engine, pulled on the hand brake and let out a great sigh of relief.
Turning to Sue I saw her head was in her hands and I thought at first she was weeping. But her shoulders were shrugging and her tears were of laughter.
Unable to control myself I picked up on her giggling and then we both roared with laughter.
“I’ve heard of women dressing to kill,” she sniggered, “but that was ridiculous!”
“Jeez that was close Sue,” I said seriously as the moment began to pass.
“I nearly got us both totalled thinking about screwing you in the back seat!”
“Did you see the face on that truck driver? You must have given him a heart attack!” she said.
“No but I saw the finger he gave me in the mirror!”
It was a couple of minutes before 9-o-clock and Sue had to go.
But as she reached to open her door I asked the question that had been bugging me since she had got in.
“Why are you dressed up today?” I asked, “And makeup? You never, like, wear makeup to work?”
I was sounding jealous and petulant.
Sue looked at me then reached out a hand on mine. Again she searched my face to locate the cause of my odd behaviour.
“I really want that modelling job Jack, and I thought it wouldn’t help to let my boss and the photographers see what I’ve been hiding all these months.” She explained.
“If they like what they see I might do better on Friday.”
I think she understood that I was feeling jealous and added, “They can only look and dream Jack, but all the touching and kissing will be yours.”
She smiled and added, “My period has almost finished. I might even be clean for you tonight. If not, you can take me by the tail. Your Dad used to enjoy taking my tail when I was unclean. That is if you want to?”
While she let that grenade burn it’s slow fuse she dipped into a side pocket of her bag and put on the black framed glasses we had used for her nude shots earlier. They had plain glass so didn’t affect her vision.
Instantly she was transformed into the sexy secretary with a ‘Come on and fuck me now` look.
She turned to face me, gave me a cute wink and a huge smile.
Then with a pat of her hand on mine she got out and sashayed across the car park, hips swaying and legs crossing in front and behind, as if she were on a cat walk.
As she approached the door they opened ahead of her and two guys came out carrying tripods, cameras and equipment bags.
They obviously knew Sue as they exchanged greetings.
As she walked on they stopped and turned to watch her sexy ass, seamed stockings and heels. I sensed that she wiggled her butt especially for them, as if aware of their stares.
Jeez! But did I love that woman!
Then she disappeared through the main entrance.
`BOOM` the grenade detonated.
You can take me by the tail! That is if you want to?
If I want to!!
Looking back over the years it’s difficult to see how our long-term loving incestuous relationship thrived and survived?
Living like outlaws, where the slightest mistake could end in public shame and criminal action.
Lying, deception and subterfuge became a way of life.
But at that age my prick still ruled my brain. I can’t remember which great writer said it, but it is so true, “A man with an erect penis has a fool for a friend.”
Unknown to me, we had already committed incest as defined in English Law that morning with Sue’s hand-job. Sexual relationships between close blood relatives is still a great taboo and subject to harsh punishment in law and public revulsion.
But Sue knew the significance of those few minutes in the early morning sun. She knew, but loved me with such passion that she was prepared to go to prison for her love.
As it turned out that particular Wednesday became a watershed in our relationship, one that set our love and commitment to each other in stone.
But not before my petty jealousy and lack of forethought almost blew it for us!
As I drove away from the studio car park I still felt pissed off with the two guys ogling Sue’s body earlier. It briefly crossed my mind to go back and wait to beat the living crap out of them. But my anger dissipated as I drove into college.
I attended the tutorial until lunchtime then gathered and signed for all the equipment I’d loaned for the remaining boudoir and lingerie shoots.
But there turned out to be more stuff to transport than our family car had been designed for.
I was standing on the crowded main car park to one side of the main college building. Both rear doors and hatch open, me struggling to figure how to cram everything in for a single journey.
Students were walking across the car park to their cars. Some to eat lunch, others to drive into town.
Then out of the blue, Simone Andretti swung her battered green and cream 60’s VW camper van into the adjoining parking bay, sliding it to a halt, all wheels locked, in her usual carefree way.
She waved a hand as she undid her seat belt and got out, leaving the door wide open.
She looked really pleased to see me.
Simmi bounced across to me, looking vivacious in her figure hugging black leggings, short black skirt, expensive black pixie boots and figure-hugging blue sleeveless `T` shirt with an ‘Italia’ logo. A vision in black and blue.
“Ciao Jacko Bello. Need a hand?” she said, leaning on the roof and peering into the car.
I just stood and smiled at her sheer joy of living and boundless energy.
She looked first at the pile of equipment on the ground then at the tangle of lights and stands already squashed into the back of the car.
“mai andare per adattarsi!” Never goin to fit she declared, slapping a hand on the car roof decisively.
“It’s a no brainer. I’ll take it for you in the van,” she said breezily. Then walked over to me, put one hand on my arm and offered her cheeks for me to kiss.
“Hey Simmi,” I said, “Thanks, but I’m only taking it home.”
“Nessun problema, we can drop it off over lunch?” Nothing was ever a problem for Simone.
As I kissed her warm cheeks, the sun caught her big curly hair and she seemed charged with electrical energy, bursting full of life. It felt so good to be close to her again.
As on many occasions previously, my eyes were drawn to her magnetic smile and perfect white teeth.
But that was probably the first time I had really studied her face close up.
A small mole on her left temple, fine dark hairs on her top lip, slight mottling on her skin.
Her nose had a small bump on the bridge, as if she might have injured it as a child, and there was a tiny scar, barely perceptible, high on her forehead.
Her eyebrows were thick and dark and had begun to bridge together. Her eyes were deep brown, making it difficult to make out the iris.
It dawned on me I really didn’t know this woman at all.
Nevertheless, whether it was my smouldering anger, growing sexual confidence or the fool in my trousers, I impetuously put both arms around her, lifted her easily from the ground and kissed her on her delightful wide mouth.
As her breasts crushed against my chest a throbbing hard-on began to ache in my pants.
My hand slid up underneath her `T` shirt onto the soft skin of her lower back. Her muscles felt firm and toned.
In response Simone threw her arms tight around my neck and, with the ease of a gymnast, wrapped her legs tightly around my waist,locking them together with her feet.
The crotch of her jeans pressed down hard on my bulging erection.
On feeling my reaction to her touch she purred contentedly and slid her tongue into my mouth. She tasted of mint chewing gum and cola drink.
The sensations of her body felt incredibly horny and my trouser friend began urging me that I really needed to fuck this delightful creature.
“What took you so long, Jacko bello?” she sighed when we finally unglued ourselves from the kiss.
“I’ve been waiting nearly 2 years for you to do that!”
A couple of students we both knew drove passed and beeped their car horns and shouted something I couldn’t make out.
We both raised a hand, giving them the finger as our reply.
She smelled of very little other than soap and hair lacquer, her firm, slim body felt sensational to touch, but so very different than my Sue.
Simone seldom wore makeup other than a light lipstick and only a hint of perfume. But she did take great pride in her beautiful long nails which she lacquered with the precision of a Rolls Royce car sprayer. They were works of art.
Her face had a great bone structure and I thought it really didn’t need any help from cosmetics.
Simone continued to hang on to me like a limpet, allowing me to slide both hands down her hips and under her ass. My fingers were directly under her cunt but I couldn’t feel anything because of the tight jeans.
But she was aware of their proximity because she tightened up the muscles of her butt, holding my fingers between her cheeks for an instant. Her tongue pressed further into my mouth and she squeezed her arms tighter around my neck in a wrestling hold.
At that moment I had a flash of red in the back of my eyes and a well of anger, frustration and sexual tension released in a tsunami of passion.
How many years had I been submissive, too shy to respond to girls and foolishly ignored repeated advice that I was attractive to women.
Echoes of guys in the showers rang in my ears, The girls will love a thick black cock like yours!
Sue had loved my cock and that had given me huge confidence.
Suddenly I understood that Simmi wanted me.
Adrenaline surged through my body supercharging my muscles, I felt I could eat broken glass and walk through brick walls.
Simone weighed nothing in my arms. A feather.
My mind closed off to everything else and screamed for me to fuck her!
I let out a deep animal grunt of need and gasped, “I need to fuck you now Simmi, now!”
Simone replied by licking my lips erotically and pushing one hand up my ‘T’ shirt and raking her finger long glossy nails through my chest hair. But I don’t think she had fully sensed my wild animal passion, at least not until she looked into my eyes and saw primeval lust staring back at her.
“The van!” she said urgently, the curtains are drawn,” scramble over the seats into the back. There’s a bed!”
She too now became ablaze, ignited by my primeval urges.
She let go of me and dropped easily to the ground.
Leaving the doors open on my car and the remaining studio equipment on the ground we sprinted hand in hand to clamber into the back of the camper van.
In a moment of sanity she shut the door behind us and drew the curtain across behind the seats, secreting us from prying eyes. Inside the van the air was hot and dry.
We knelt on the narrow bed, feverishly taking off our clothes.
Simone struggled a little to take off her tight ‘T’ shirt off, throwing it to one side, revealing a skimpy blue bra, her full breasts heaving with anticipation.
As I undid the belt from my jeans and pushed them down over my hips I knew they would have to stay around my knees.
Simone had by now unclipped her bra, releasing her tits, young, firm and begging to be held.
As I pushed down my shorts, She gasped as she saw my pumped up thick dark cock, the bush of black hair concealing the base of the shaft.
Unable to control my animal urgency I pushed her onto the bed where she arched her back, inviting me to pull down her jeans.
But Simone seemed unable to take her eyes off my cock!
“Mio Dio Jacko!” My God, she exclaimed, “E gigantesco!”
I said nothing but gave her an animal grin.
With her jeans and shoes dragged off, Simone shimmied down her blue thong to reveal her cunt almost hidden by a great bush of black curly hair.
Unable to wait any longer my instinct took over and I put both my hands under her butt and dragged her towards me.
Like a hungry caveman I didn’t hesitate to push the glistening head of my cock into her wet meaty cunt.
I felt unbelievably elated as I thrust deep into her. Simone gasped as I violated her.
Finally, after 18 years on this earth I was fucking a beautiful woman, who wanted me.
“Shit Jacko! it’s humongous!” she repeated.
Bending forwards I tightened my grip on her butt and instinctively began thrusting greedily into her.
My prick felt incredibly sensitive and seemed to know exactly what to do.
I was on autopilot.
“Christ Jacko, it’s so deep, give it to me, give it to me harder!” she panted reaching forward to grab my black curls and pulled me down trying to take the full weight of my body on her hips and breasts.
“Fanculo, Fanculo, Fanculo!” fuck,fuck,fuck,she screamed. “Mi Dio it’s fucking huge!” She kept repeating as I felt the switch click in my balls and felt an eruption of cum begin to force up my shaft. Although I doubted her God would really be interested in the dimensions of my penis.
“I’m coming!” I cried, “Oh God. I’m coming!”
Then I began to buck as spasms of indescribable excitement washed over me and the first ropes of cum erupted deep inside Simone.
The van was stifling hot and with no moving air my mouth felt parched. I was only vaguely aware of the van springs squeaking and it rocking from side to side. But at that moment I couldn’t give a shit about anything or anyone, all my senses seemed to be concentrating on the screaming excitement in my cockhead.
Simone groaned with pleasure as she felt my hot cum gush into her. Still I thrust, still I gripped her butt.
My eyes could hardly focus as another powerful ejaculation shook inside her.
From somewhere I thought I heard low voices and giggling but I needed to milk myself dry, empty body and soul into her.
This was my first fuck and I wanted it to go on forever.
Simone must have felt my thrusting slowing and the pulses of cum filling her cunt begin to diminish.
“Don’t stop Jacko. Fanculo! I need more!” she gasped loudly.
There again was the giggling.
But my first fuck was coming to an end and I slowed, allowing my mind to clear the fog and begin to take in my surroundings.
Eventually I stopped thrusting a slumped a little. But while I was spent, Simone was on fire.
Her eyes blazing with lust and need.
“Let me in top!” she shouted,”Roll off and let me on top!”
Reluctant to withdraw my cock from her cunt I remained bent over her.
Then she pummled both my shoulders with the heels of her hands, her long nails flashing close to my face like talons, then she grabbed the hair on my chest.
It got my attention.
“Let me on top you selfish cunt. Get onto your fucking back!” she screamed at me, spit dribbling from her mouth.
Bewildered at her violence, I pulled out and rolled over onto my back, my cum soaked cock still erect, firm but incredibly sensitive.
Simone scrambled on top of me with the ferocity of a lioness.
No sooner had my head hit the mattress she was sitting astride my right thigh, one hand reaching forward, her long nails raking through my chest hair, the other searching for the ecstatic feel of male body hair.
Then she started rubbing her cum-filled cunt hard against my thigh. Forwards, backwards, squirming and rubbing hard.
Her eyes were shut tight in ecstasy, her head thrown back, spine arched. She was making low moans of euphoria.
It felt surreal, this beautiful young thing jacking herself off on my muscular thigh, the lips of her cunt open and her clit rubbing hard against my wiry hair.
With one hand I cupped her breast, feeling, searching, exploring her shape and fingering her taught nipples.
With the other I ran it over her milky skin, her butt, lower back, hips round to the mound and hair above her gyrating cunt.
“Mi Dio, I’m fucking coming!” she wailed, her head slumping forward as she climaxed on me, her cunt pulsing hard against me as if trying to suck me in. Her shouts gradually became groans, then sighs; Her face became angelic, peaceful.
The rubbing stopped.
Her eyes opened and she smiled at me.
We were both breathing heavily and sweating in the close confines of the van.
Again the voices. Again the giggling.
Then hands began to bang against the outside of the van.
Simone had resumed her slow writhing up and down my thigh when the van doors were thrown open and seat curtain flung apart.
Two digital cameras appeared first.
Then the jubilant faces of our two course psycho bitches, Chloe Crabble and Jenny Taylor. Both were close friends of Simone and part of her select clique.
Chloe, an attractive blonde with a tight Essex facelift pony tail hairdo; Jenny a close-cut Scottish redhead with body piercings through her nose, tongue, ears and lips of her vagina (allegedly).
“Oh fuck Jacko! it’s fucking humongous!” said Jenny in a squeaky voice, attempting to imitate Simone. This was followed by howls of laughter.
“Let me on top you fucking selfish cunt. Roll over onto your fucking back!” mimicked Cleo.
“Mi Dio, I’m fucking coming!” shrieked Jenny.
“You fucking bitches!” said Simone, turning towards them, “You pair of crazy bitches!” But she was laughing along with them.
Then they both pointed their cameras at us.
FLASH, click, FLASH, click!
I tried to cover my eyes but the flashes temporarily blinded me.
“Smile for a family shot,” sniggered Chloe, pointing her lens at us again, carefully checking exposure and composition.
“Wait!” Snapped Simone, and put two fingers on the head of my cock, wiping ropes of cum onto them.
Then she held up both fingers, gently spread them apart so the cum hung between her long glossy nails, unabashed, posing for her portrait.
I lay still, bewildered with what was going on.
FLASH, click, FLASH, click!
Then, with a defiant look on her face, Simone brought her fingers to her lips, licked the cum from her nails into her mouth and swallowed.
FLASH, click, FLASH, click!
“Now you two sluts can fuck off,” she said to her paparazzi pals, “If you tell anyone about this, the principal will hear all about your three in a bed romp with the course tutor. And I’ll spread the word you’ve both got chlamydia!”
“You wouldn’t!” they said in unison.
Simone gave them a look that said ‘try me!’
And they left, drawing the seat curtain and closing the van doors quietly behind them.
“Three in a bed with our course tutor?” I said.
“Don’t ask!” replied Simone, “but I videoed it!”
After a few seconds, Simone moved around and lay prostrate across my body. Her legs on my legs, her breasts on my chest, her arms following the line of mine. Our lips brushed, licked, and we began playfully biting and sucking.
Simone seemed to be getting aroused again with the feel of my hairy body. She began rubbing and gyrating against me.
Her hands searched up and down my arms and legs before reaching under us and burying her fingernails in the bush of my cock.
Just then my smartphone buzzed in response to a new text message. I slowly broke the embrace searching for my trousers.
Eventually I located my phone and Simone slid over to one side, her tits still pressed hard against me, the bush of her cunt against my wet thigh and one leg still over mine. She was studying me intently.
I thumbed in my passcode and tapped the message icon.
I glanced at Simmi who mouthed `Who us it from?`
I shrugged my shoulders and opened the message.
At first I didn’t recognise the sender.
But it didn’t take me more than a few second to realise it was a message and attachment from Sue. She had wisely set up a new account for our conversations.
I smiled at the humour in her new cryptic email address. She had adopted the name ‘Red Milf’.
Smart woman. It read:
Darling Silverback. Good news. I’ve finished my period so my other lips are ready for kissing (see photo).
Can’t wait for you to fuck me tonight.
Your Red MILF
Scrolling down I was stunned to see she had taken an intimate selfie with her camera phone.
It had been taken sitting down on a red plastic office chair and framed her open legs, the tops of her stockings and suspenders just visible. But front and centre, in perfect focus was her beautiful shaved cunt.
My trouser friend was awake again and ordering more blood to fill my penis. And Simone noticed my reactions.
The picture was naturally for my eyes only, but Simone stretched across, curious to see what I was looking at.
Before I knew it she had grabbed the phone from my hands.
“What’s this then Jacko?” Then she read aloud Sue’s text and whistled when she looked at the photo.
“No! That’s private stuff Simmi. Personal!” I protested, trying to grab it back.
But it was too late. She was already thumbing through my erotic body closeup photos of Sue.
A heart stopping moment.
“So who’s this red hot MILF your giving a seeing to. Come on. Dish the dirt. Your a fucking dark horse Jacko. Until today I never thought you had a good fuck in you,” she said, zooming in on the shots trying to make out who it was and where it had been taken.
(Thank Christ Sue had changed her sender address. Luckier still, Simone hadn’t swiped the photo gallery far enough back to spot the backgrounds of the shots I’d taken of Sue the night she went out with friends)
“Does your mum know you’re fucking this older woman?” she asked incredulously.
“Fuck no!” I blurted out. “She’d fucking kill me if she ever found out, probably kick me out of the house.”
I reached out to take the phone from her but she arched away out of reach and was desperately trying to forward one of the photos to her own smartphone.
My heart beat fast and I sprang towards her luckily managing to snatch back the phone from her an instant before she was able to send the message.
I was in a cold sweat by now.
Simone sensing I was vulnerable, threw her head back and hooted in amusement at my panic.
“Jeez, Jacko, chill, it’s just a bit of fun!” she said.
(Fun for her maybe. For Sue and me it was far to serous a matter to laughter at.)
Had she managed to send it I’m sure it would have gone viral, not just around the college but across social media!
Sue would have died of shame and it would have been the end of any possible relationship between us.
(Think about it! My 36 year old Mum sending her 18 year old son photos of her cunt!
Christ. It doesn’t bear thinking about!)
With my phone secure in my jeans pocket, we lay looking at each other as if a bomb had just gone off between us.
I was looking sheepish and embarrassed, Simone sat wide eyed but grinning in admiration.
My trouser friend had finally deserted me leaving my hard-on to shrink back to normal.
She spoke first, with a mixture of curiosity and glee.
“We all had you down as a virgin, Silverback,” she said, using my new nickname, “and I wanted to be the first to pop your cherry. Now here you are, a fuck boy screwing frustrated MILFs and even photographing them. I mean, deep respect Jacko.”
She lay studying me for a moment or two. She had been playing with the cum on my wet thigh and now held the palm to her lips, inhaled the smell and licked her hand clean.
“So you get off on all that stockings and suspender shit do you?” she asked.
I nodded and said, “And high heels, I love them,” answering truthfully, hoping this news might be a big turn off for her. As an afterthought I added,”Push-up bra’s and lip gloss too.”
Now she was thoughtful.
“You don’t wear them yourself do you, you’re not one of those sissies that really want to be girls?” Here eyes swept up and down my hairy muscular body then burst out laughing at the thought. I joined in at such a wild idea.
“And waxed pussies?” she asked quizzically, “You go for that too?”
“So my hairy armpits and cunt are a bit of a turn off for you?” She added.
“Sorry Simmi,” I said, “It’s me not you. I can’t help it. You’re a really beautiful woman. I must be sick in the head or something?”
“Fuck, but you’re a deep one Jacko, with a lingerie and shaved pussy fetish!” she said in wonderment. “And some of the girls thought you must be fucking gay!”
(Gay! What The Fuck!)
“From what I’ve seen you have a body hair and cum fetish Simmi, we both have our kinks,” I said, turning to see her smile and nod.
“I could cum just rubbing against your body!” she said dreamily, leaning across and kissing my lips.
I glanced at my watch hoping to distract her. Fat chance. She was pumped up with this!
“Christ look at the time Simmi, we gotta get a move on or we’ll be late for this afternoons lecture,” I said plugging in my seatbelt.
But Simone still had that wild look about her, a look that told me she had an appetite, and I was on the menu.
“So,” she said thoughtfully, giving me a quick sideways glance, “To get my hands on that hairy body of yours regularly Jacko, I’d have to turn myself into a fucking hairless hooker, right?”
I just shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry Simmi, you know I really do like you!”
It didn’t take us long to wash ourselves in the van sink, throw on our clothes, load all the lights and kit into the back of her van.
Then we drove the couple of miles to where I lived. But as we drove Simone was still interested in the message and seemed reluctant to change the subject.
She kept firing of questions, wanted to know who the MILF was, where she lived, how did we meet, how old she was, how often I slept with her?
Eventually I pacified her by inventing a fictitious MILF who I had met online.
She was an attractive 40 year old red head, living on a housing estate the opposite end of town to me.
I embellished the lie with a husband away a lot of the time working on the Scottish oil Rigs.
Once we reached home we worked together to unload the van.
I took advantage of Simone’s finely toned body and together we carried all the studio equipment up stairs into my bedroom. It took us three trips.
The house was hot after being shut up for the morning and both of ushers soon sweating with the effort.
Without thinking I stripped off my sweat-soaked ‘T’ shirt and threw it into the bathroom as I passed, planning to pick up a fresh one before we returned to college.
Simmi was still wearing only her bra and jeans and I found myself climbing the stairs behind her, studying beads of sweat on her arms and shoulder and the erotic sway of her slim hips.
She in turn seemed fascinated with the hair on my back on the return journey downstairs.
Once I felt the thrill of her hand running up and down the hairs on my back.
With everything placed generally where I wanted it, we sat down on my bed to catch our breath.
“Would you like a cold drink Simmi?” I asked.
But she wasn’t listening. She was looking around the room.
Do you bring her here to screw, in this bed?” She asked, her eyes searching the room for clues.
“Bring who?”I said.
“The fucking middle-aged MILF slut of course”
“Christ No, with my mother here. She’s a worse detective then you!”
“So where do you fuck her Jacko – her house I suppose?”
Her eyes settled on the pile of lingerie catalogues Sue and I had used to plan our lingerie shoot.
Before I could stop her, she reached across and began leafing through them.
Inevitably she spotted the stockings and suspenders we had chosen for Sue and ringed with red pen.
“This what you like your women to wear?” She asked pointing to a beautiful pair of black seamed stockings with exquisite lace tops and matching 6 strap suspender belt.
“Let me see,” I said reaching out a hand for the catalogue.
But Simmi was too cute for me and tore out the photo before I could protest.
“Fucking hell Simmi, what did you do that for?” I protested, but she had already folded it and popped it into her jeans pocket.
Then her manner softened and once again she took my hand and leaned close to me.
“If I dressed like this for you,would you be my regular fuck-buddy?” she said seductively.
Then without warning she reached behind her, unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor.
Instantly my trouser friend was standing up, paying homage to Simone’s full white breasts and pink schoolgirl nipples.
Then in one quick movement she half stood up, put her legs between mine and with one hand pushed me back onto the bed. Then she knelt down onto the floor in the classic position to give head.
Even a newcomer to sex like me could guess what was going to happen!
As my prick stiffened and bulged in my pants, I raised myself up on both elbows to watch. An eager participant.
If rape is inevitable, lie back and enjoy it!
She had blows guys before, it was obvious. She knew hat she was doing.
She began by running a long finger nail over the outside of my bulging erection following the arching curve of my shaft from base to head? Then with a quick twist of the wrist she flipped oped the top button of my jeans.
Another slow gripping survey along my shaft, a probing scan of my face, then she slowly, very slowly lowered my zip, revealing the throbbing mound concealed in my shorts.
She slowly drew the point of one long fingernail up my shaft and stoked under the rim of for my cockhead.
The sight of those beautiful talons so close to my cock made me shudder with anticipation.
I arched my back as she grasped the waistband of my jeans together with my shorts, and shimmied them down my thighs, slowly, teasing me, down my hairy legs and around my ankles. Then she held them to her nose, inhaled the smell of me, my drying cum and body sweat, before tossing them to one side of the bedroom.
Her eyes widened as she gazed again at my thick black cock with its engorged purple head standing erect, gently jerking back and forth, straining to go. Great purple veins stood out along the length of my shaft.
“Jesus Jacko, it’s not the longest dick I’ve ever seen but so thick! I can hardly get my fingers around it! And it’s almost black. Dear God it’s so beautiful. I’ll have a wet dream about it tonight!”
As she ran a fingernail down the shaft she began fumbling in her pocket and took quickly took out her smartphone.
Almost before I could protest she had taken a couple of closeup photos of my throbbing black rod.
“Oh fuck, not my face, please!” I groaned in dismay, dreading seeing myself on PornTube. But she had the blackmail photos she needed now.
She touched the head with finger and thumb, then took another photo, as if to give some scale to my girth.
Then she attempted to blow me with the same animal ferocity she had shown as she jacked off on my thigh.
But I was too thick to take fully into her mouth.
So she settled for sucking the my cockhead while jerking off my shaft with both hands.
As I came, she sucked every last drop into her mouth and swallowed.
There was little love, little affection, nor much thought for me.
Simone just wanted to slake her lust and satisfy her deep well of desire to suck and taste cum.
She was still sucking hard on me long after she had milked the last drop of semen that had risen up my shaft.
I squirmed and bucked in ecstasy at her the feel of her wide mouth, darting tongue and soft lips, but even for me there was was no real closeness or warm affection.
We had become, in her words, fuck buddies.
Sex anytime, anywhere, no strings attached, no regrets,no conscience, and certainly no love.
We now both understood each other’s sexual fantasies and fetishes.
Looking back over the years I still feel the blind terror of the moment when Simmie grabbed my phone and began flicking through my messages and photos.
That sexy message and crotch shot from Sue could so easily have been our first serious fuck-up. But we survived it.
I had learned important lessons about SMS messages, emails, erotic photos and signatures: No faces. No recognisable backgrounds. Use nicknames. Consider the consequences if they got into the wrong hands.
Later that afternoon I deleted all photos of Sue from my smart phone. I even reformatted the SD card.
An unbelievably close call and a major lesson learned.
We made it back to college just in time for the afternoon classes. Simone sat next to me with one hand on my thigh.
But I couldn’t concentrate, so much had happened since dawn.
An incredibly erotic handjob from my gorgeous mother, my first wild fuck in the van with Simone followed by her sucking me dry of semen after vacuuming me off like a dredger.
During the mid afternoon break we walked around the college grounds, hand in hand and deep in conversation.
Simone had been thinking and suggested how end where we could meet for sex regularly.
She told me that her house was empty most days as her mother and father both worked in the nearby city, so we could use her bedroom most lunchtimes.
Then she gave me a hard-on as she explained that her father had a predilection for the same sort of lingerie and shaved pussy I did, and she could borrow seamed stockings, suspenders and ‘fuck me’ high heels from her mother’s extensive collection.
“How on earth do you know your mother shaves her velvet?” I asked with interest.
“Her waste bin, waxing strips covered in ginger pubic hairs. How else? D’you think I fucking asked her?”
I shrugged and said nothing, she’d already done a good job of making me feel stupid.
“I’m shitting myself at the thoughts of tearing mine out!
It’s going to hurt like fuck, I know it!”
“So what about your pussy and underarms?” I asked.
“You still insisting on a shaved pussy?”
“Okay, I’ll shave off my body hair and wear your fucking wet dream lingerie,” she said reluctantly.
“But you must do something for me every time before we fuck.”
I looked skeptically at her.
“Don’t wash, don’t shave your face or anywhere on your body. And don’t wank before we meet. I think you know I get off on licking and swallowing sweat, salt, semen and body hair. I need as much semen as you can give me. Just the thoughts of swallowing it makes me wet.
You do that for me and you can fuck me in those dumb stockings and suspenders of your choice as often as you want.”
“Bareback?” I said out of the blue, “I fucking hate wearing condoms!”
“I’m on the pill so filling me with cum is not he problem, saving cum for me is more important!” See added with a wicked grin.
So we agreed to meet as fuck buddies over lunch next day.
It was a not a wholly unpleasant prospect.
We also agreed to make out we were dating and to be seen walking around college hand in hand.
Finally, and most importantly, we agreed both were free to sleep anyone else we chose, but to take precautions against STDs.
Mid afternoon I received another message from Sue:
‘Hey Silverback, you never replied to my message and photo.
Did my selfie blow your mind? No need to pick me up tonight, my boss will drop me off after work. Had a great day, can’t wait to tell you all about it.
I’m already wet thinking about later. Have bought new stockings and suspenders for you.
Your Red MILF’
There it was again. Blind, irrational jealousy.
I felt incandescent with rage as I thought of her boss ogling her stocking and heels in his car.
But it was utter madness. Earlier I had fucked Simone and she had sucked me off.
I was the traitor. The perfidy was mine. I had broken trust with my lovely Sue.
After a while my sanity returned and I decided to prepare for her arrival. But what should I tell her?
Nevertheless I replied to her text.
‘Hey horny RED MILF. Like the new address. Your mega cool photo sent me wild! Nickers off ready for me when you get home.
Prepare for a long hard night.
In the event Sue was quite late arriving home.
I’d had had plenty of time to set up all the studio equipment ready to complete the portfolio for the planned shoot.
My camera was ready on the tripod and the lights only needed to be switched on.
I kept looking at the front windows to see her arrive.
Around 6:30 pm, a new text arrived to my smartphone.
This time it was from Simone:
‘Hey MILF Fucker!
I hit mama’s sex drawer. Got the sort lingerie you like and have just shaved my pussy. I’m fucking red and sore there now. Hurts like fuck. (See photo). You better make it worth while for me or I’ll bite your cock off! Save all your cum for me.
Attached to the message was a selfie closeup of Simone wearing very expensive black silk stockings with gold lace tops, and matching exquisite six strap intricate gold and black suspender belt.
Breathtaking beauty for a leg lingerie worshipper like me.
She had carefully removed most of her bush, leaving an artistically trimmed narrow wedge of short hair just above the mound, as if directing me to her now naked cunt.
Clearly trimming her bush been a painful experience as some areas of the skin around the top of her thighs were a pinkish red where the waxing strip had torn out very sensitive hair.
Her cunt was, well, a bit disappointing. Yes I had humped it only a few hours earlier, but then I was gripped in the myopic frenzy of my first fuck and hardly noticed.
Now I could assess what Simone had to offer, calm and dispassionately.
Her cunt lacked the perfect symmetry of Sue’s porcelain perfection and resembled those I grown up wanking over in my girlie magazines.
The lips lay open like the wavy edges of some seashells, her clitoris prominent, like raw meat.
That said, her body was young, firm and supple. Her legs were beautiful and wore that expensive lingerie, she looked very, very, fuckable.
I began to salivate and get a hard-on, anticipating our lunchtime meeting next day.
I was remembering her animal frenzy to get on top of me and jerk off against my hairy thigh, when a sleek black limousine swept into the driveway.
It swung round, stopping close to our front door.
Sue was in the passenger seat and waved when she spotted me at the living room window.
Simone was instantly forgotten. I closed my phone and put it away in my jeans pocket. She was for tomorrow.
The car door opened and Sue slowly and deliberately, teasing me, stretched one silken leg out onto the gravel, her dress stretched open revealing heart-stopping stocking tops and suspenders.
Then she brought out her other leg, her dress hem now almost pulled up to mid thigh.
Then she stood up,carefully readjusted her dress, closed the car door, turned and opened the rear door.
She leant in and took out a couple of large carrier bags bearing the logos of two major fashion chains in the city.
Then she leaned through the open passenger window to speak with the driver.
As I watched she lowered the shopping bags to the ground and carefully, with both hands behind her back, and seen only by me, hitched up the back of her grey green dress to show me her bare ass, suspender belt and stockings. She gave a quick wiggle then pulled the cheeks of her butt apart to reveal she was not wearing nickers.
She was still talking to the driver.
What a fucking tease!
Her head was still inside the car, hiding this blatant erotic tease from him.
My heart began to beat faster and by now my cock was straining to escape the tight confines of my jeans.
She had ignited my desire again, poured fuel on the flames of my imagination.
Already I had decided to take her as soon as she was through the door, looking round for the best place to throw her down, push up her dress and thrust into her.
I would ignore all her protests and rape her if necessary. She had driven my desire over the edge, into the dark abyss of criminal madness.
God, I was going to fuck my mother, hard and rough. Now only seconds away.
The blood was again draining from my face and I could feel my features take on the rictus of attack, teeth drawn back, eyes bulging and lower jaw protruding.
My muscles felt like the Incredible Hulk.
The teasing bitch was going to get it!
She waved farewell to the driver who waved back and she stood watching the car disappear down the drive and turn onto the main road.
(Make me wait would you! You fucking slut! I’ll ass fuck you for this!)
Positioning myself behind the door I was poised like a coiled spring to restrain her, pin both arms behind her with one arm, force up her dress and violate her cunt with the other.
Looking back, I imagine I was fucking scary at that moment, a crazed attack dog on heat.
I convinced myself it would be her fault, she had brought it on herself! Pushed me one tease too far.
The bitch needed to learn a hard lesson and I was going to teach it!
Her heels crunched on the stones of the driveway, then clicked sexily as she mounted the steps to the front door.
I heard her put her key in the lock, then threw open the door to confront her.
To my adoring eyes he was so beautiful.
Her makeup a perfection and she had put her hair into an updo style she knew I loved.
She smiled, held out a hand for me.
Instead of speaking or taking her hand I grabbed her by an arm and pulled her roughly into the house, kicking the door closed behind her. She looked frightened for a moment then, quickly assessed my state of mind.
We stood for a few moments, holding her tight, my chest heaving up and down with the pent up desire I felt. Her eyes scanned my attack dog expression and sensing the tension in my pumped-up muscles and the the roughness of my arms, then melted into me, her arms hanging done submissively.
But there was no smile on my face, no welcoming words, no affection.
She was no only seconds away from brutal rape.
Lost blind with desire.
I dragged up the back of her skirt, thrusting my hand to feel the globes and valley of her butt. I was lost in frenzy of lust answer feverishly seeking out her stockings and suspenders.
Yet Sue still said nothing. Still utterly mine, total in her submission.
I think I was grunting and sighing with desire.
Then her face turned up towards me to kiss, her breasts pushed up, offered for me to touch.
She let go of the two carrier bags, letting them drop soundlessly to the floor.
The sunlight from the window caught the lip gloss and I drew her face up to mine, still cupping a firm breast we kissed.
The anger seemed to wash away.
My heart still pounding, swelled with love, my chest nearly bursting with adoration at holding my beautiful mother, kissing her soft lips and caressing her gorgeous breasts.
She had surrendered her body to me, submitted totally and absolutely.
Mine to take. I could fuck her now.
Love radiated from her, engulfing my mind with so much love that I could have wept.
She parted her lips, inviting me to penetrate her with my tongue.
“God how I love you Sue,” I said softly, my fingers searching and finding her nipple. “But no more prick teasing or excuses. I mean it. A minute ago I was so worked up I could have raped you.”
“I know, I can still feel the tension in your body. And I want to feel you inside me.”
Eventually we broke from the embrace.
“Give me your hand,” she said, “let’s go to bed and make love, that is if you still fancy me?”
We both picked up a carrier bag and hand in hand we went upstairs to her bedroom.
“What’s in the shopping bags?” I asked as I put mine onto the bed. “Can I take a look?”
“Let’s sit down on the bed for a minute my darling,” she said. “Don’t worry I’m not playing for time!”
“There’s a simple question I need to ask you, and you have to answer me truthfully.”
She was still holding my hand and she lifted it to her lips and kissed it.
“I think you know how much I love you Jack,” she said, her eyes searching mine.
“And I think you feel the same about me?”
“I want to live the rest of my life with you, grow old together as man and wife,” she said kissing my hand.
“We can never have children, that would be too risky for the child. But I want you to share my bed, every night.”
Sue was looking very grave now and I didn’t know where she was going with this conversation.
“I love you too Sue,” was all I could say.
“I need you to think very carefully before answering the question I’m going to ask you, do you understand? Even if you say ‘no’ we are still going to make love tonight.”
Again I nodded.
“Jack,” she said, “Will you marry me and be my husband. Forever. Until death us do part?”
Her question hit me like a hammer. I hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Marry you? But how can we marry? How can I be your husband? I don’t understand you Sue.” I said.
“It would be a secret marriage, known only by the two of us. But it would be a solemn promise to stay together. I don’t think I could bear to live without you my beautiful son!”
I mulled over the idea of living the rest of my life with Sue, trying hard to picture us together forty years hence.
Marriage. To my mother? Live as her secret husband. Go through life together?
As I was thinking Sue reached under her pillow and produced two rings. One I recognised as the one Dad hand left behind. The other was new. A simple gold band.
“I’ll understand if you’re unsure or say now. But I have no reservations. You are the man I want to spend my life with you Jack. I think we could be a winning team.”
I looked down at the rings and realised the awesome implications of my decision.
“There is a third way,” Sue added, again reaching under her pillow. This time she produced a small ring with a single stone.
“We could get engaged until you are sure?”
I sat quietly, looking first at the rings, then at her beautiful face.
“What if I don’t want either?” I asked.
“Then we go to bed and make love just the same. But for me it would feel we were doing something unnatural, something wicked. But if we pledge our love to each other, and agree to marry it would feel right.”
“We would still sleep together in your bed every night, and make love?” I asked.
“Yes, my bed and become lovers,” she said.
Taking my mother as a lover with no strings attached, an erotic affair had an immediate attraction. Sex on tap with a beautiful mature woman was a dream come true.
But I thought beyond instant gratification.
Then I remembered Simone.
“Sue I have a confession to make. And I’m afraid to tell you, in case you hate me for it,” I said, lowering my head in shame.
“What is it Jack, it can’t be that terrible. Whatever it is I’m sure I can forgive you?”
I paused, dreading saying the words, dreading their destructive potential.
Sue squeezed my hand in reassurance.
“I had sex with Simone today!”
I raised my head and expected Sue to be disgusted with me and kick me out of her bedroom.
“Is that all?” she said. “Do you love her?”
“Hell no!” I exclaimed without thinking. “It just happened. She wants to make it a regular thing. We’ve arranged to do it again at her house tomorrow.”
Sue was smiling. “Is that all?” she said again.
“Is that all?” I repeated incredulously, “Is that all? I let you down. I violated your trust!”
“Think about it for a moment will you Jack? I slept with several men before I married your Dad, and of course I had sex with him thousands of times during the 18 years we were together.” She looked sympathetically at me.
“Can you live with that? Can you still love me? Do you still want to have me knowing that Jack? Do you hate me for it?”
“Of course not Sue, I love you so much it would break my heart to lose you. But can you live with me shagging Simone, even if we are married?”.
“We need to be realistic Jack. If we live together without other partners we risk discovery. I will have to be seen out with other men occasionally, perhaps even go to bed with one or two. Sex isn’t the same as love. We need to be seen to be living normal lives to the outside world. We could go to prison for incest. Do you understand the risks we will be taking?”
I lifted my head and looked into her eyes.
“So what difference would the rings make?” I said nodding towards the rings she still held.
“All the difference in the world!” she said adamantly. “When we put on the rings we become man and wife, equals. No are longer mother and son. We share all our problems and solve them together.”
I listened carefully. She was making a powerful argument.
“We only wear the rings in the house. We put them on when we get home. When we walk through that door you are my husband. I’m your wife?”
“And outside we are still mum and son living together but having other partners. Make them a sort of security wall against discovery!”
She offered me the rings again, in one the wedding ring in the other the engagement band.
“Ask me again,” I said, my mind now certain of my reply.
“Want me to get down on one knee?” She said, her face losing some of its seriousness.
I shook my head.
“Jack, will you marry me?” She said gravely, “Live with me forever as my husband?”
How could I see into the future? Yet I had to decide.
I looked at Sue.
Did I love her. Yes.
Did I trust her. Yes, absolutely.
Could we make a life together. Yes.
How would I feel about her having sex with other men? Jealous as hell. I’d want to kill them.
How would Sue feel about sex with my fuck buddy.
“Sue. I would need to tell you everything about Simone, What we do, what she wants from me. Could you do that?”
“Only if you will listen snd understand everything I might have to do with other men. If we love each other it will just be sex. But you and I would make love. There is a difference.”
I thought for a moment then got out my smartphone. I quickly found the text and photo from Simone and handed it to Sue.
She read the text, looked at me with smile, then examined the photo of Simone’s shaven cunt and lingerie.
“You got her to shave her body hair and raid her mum’s lingerie drawer? That’s pretty amazing. How was your first time?”
“I was trying to put her off, would you believe!”
“Your a great looking man Jack, you will always have women throwing their underwear at you. It’s something I’ll have to get used to.”
She went quiet for a moment then handed me back my phone. Then she said, “My boss Mike Jeavons has asked me out tomorrow night. How do feel about that? But don’t worry Jack, I don’t, y’now, do it, on a first date!”
We looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Eventually I said, “They would make the outside world believe we were just mother and son, I suppose.”
“But behind these doors we can sleep together like newly weds,” she said.
I reached across and took the simple gold band and slid it onto Sue’s wedding finger.
She took Dad’s wedding ring and slid it onto the third finger of my left hand.
“Can I kiss the bride now?” I said softly, holding my wife around her slim waist and kissing her with a new intensity.
“I need to freshen up now Jack. I want to be lovely and clean for you. So can you go downstairs and get a couple of champagne glasses and open the bottle in the the bag you carried upstairs?”
“Just a couple more minutes my love.”
When I returned to the bedroom Sue was busy preparing herself in the bathroom, the door ajar so we could speak.
“I won’t be long my darling,” she called, “I bought something special for our first night together. I hope you like it?”
I put the two wine glasses on the bedside cupboard with the opened champagne I had put on ice in a small silver bucket.
I threw back the covers, stripped off naked and slid into bed. I already had a stiff erection and I lay for a while stroking my cock in readiness for sex with my new wife.
Then my smartphone rang again. It was Simone.
‘Don’t ever ignore me you mother fucker! So pull your big black cock out of that slutty old MILF & tell me how incredibly sexy and belissima I look? If you let me down tomorrow I’ll hunt you down like a dog! (Wicked evil grin)
I must have groaned aloud as Sue called out, “Who’s that from Jack? You don’t sound too pleased about it…”
“Oh. Read it out to me love.” Her voice echoed from the bathroom. “And don’t miss out any juicy bits!”
I read it out, juicy bits and all.
“What’s a mofo?…”
“Mother Fucker, but that doesn’t mean…”
“Is she psychic?…”
“A bit psycho, but smart…”
“We are still talking about that same Simone you dated a couple of times? tall, beautiful, figure to die for, big hair, camper van?…”
“Yes Sue,..” I replied, steeling myself for her next comment.
“The same Simone you took to bed today, the one who stole my son’s virginity from me? That Simone?…”
“(Groan) Yeah, that Simone! I thought you were good about…”
“Who’s the slutty MILF she’s talking about, not me I hope?”
“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later, but it’s definitely not you…”
“Sounds like she’s really got the hots for you Jack, better text her back, tell her she’s beautiful…”
“Yeah, well she’s cool , beautiful I mean, but she can be the bitch. from..”
“She’s a woman, we can all be bitches…”
“If I don’t reply she’ll probably come round here and kick the door down…!”
“And we don’t want any interruptions tonight, do we? Make it quick Jacko, I’m almost ready for you.”
“How about two MILFS in bed together, a threesome sounds…”
“In your dreams!…”
I chuckled at my new wife’s sense of humour, then thumbed in my reply:
‘Sorry Simmi. I’m busy helping Mum clean up the attic. You look unbelievably beautiful and stunningly sexy. Sorry about the pain
I promise to make it up to you tomorrow.
By the way, I’m not seeing MILF for 2 weeks. Husband home from the rigs. Your awesome legs & gorgeous pussie look good enough to eat! Love the gold stocking tops!
I owe you.
And sent it.
A couple of minutes later Sue came out of the bathroom.
She was transformed into a virgin bride, dressed entirely in sexy white lingerie with flowers in her hair and a short veil down her neck.
A bride on her wedding night.
On her feet she wore new white stilettos and carried a small bouquet of flowers in her hands.
Her makeup was as perfect as could be.
She stepped into the bedroom and paused for me to take a first look at my bride.
The white silk stockings and thin push-up bra made her look 18 again.
Then, to my joy I noticed she wore no nickers and I could see the perfect slot of her pussy waiting to be kissed.
“You take my breath away Sue, you’re more beautiful than I could ever imagine!”
I went to get out of bed to hold and kiss her but she held a hand up for me to stay where I was.
So I lay back, the head of my cock now throbbing against my belly button.
Again she indicated for me not to speak and to lie back for her.
She looked radiant in her wedding clothes, so happy, so determined.
Slowly she took off her patent white stilettos, then from her bouquet produced a small cut glass bottle of oil.
I watched transfixed as she drizzled oil onto my prick then put the bottle away.
Naturally I assumed she would ride me then and there but I was wrong.
She climbed onto the bed and stood directly above my face, her beautiful cunt hovering above me.
Then she squatted down, offering me the lips of her cunt to kiss.
“No hands Jack, not yet, I have two special wedding gifts for you,” she said softly.
As her cunt lowered close to my mouth I held out my tongue and licked the length of her slot.
Sue whimpered in ecstasy as I explored her sex minutely before pushing my tongue deep inside her.
Her lips smelled of shower gel and Chanel Number 5 perfume. They tasted fresh and clean with a faint hint of vinegar.
Two wedding gifts?
The thrill of licking my mother’s cunt pushed me into realms of dreamy fantasy.
Helping me, she arched up and down so I could lick from her Brazilian bush to the rosebud of her immaculately clean bottom.
It felt unbelievably sexy and erotic to lick my mother’s ass.
Licking my mother’s ass!
I wanted to scream the news to the world. Now obsessed with her rosebud I tried to push my tongue into her, but the strong muscles resisted my violation. With the tip of my tongue I felt the fine ridges around the rim of her sphincter, craving to know every part of her. Again she moaned with pleasure then rocked backwards, taking her ass from me but bringing her cunt back to my lips.
No I understood, two wedding gifts. The two precious places on her body that she had once given willingly to my Dad, she had now given to me, her second husband.
I lay there, looking up at the most sensual sight my imagination could conjure up was surreal: Silken white stockings, intricately woven white silk suspender belt, her perfectly trimmed Brazilian velvet bush, her small mound, the glorious moulded lips of her cunt and the tight pink rosebud of her ass, the smell of her perfume and body. Beauty beyond belief.
My mind screamed for me to run my hands up her stockings and caress the fastens and straps of her white lace suspenders.
The head of my prick throbbed and was radiating acute sexual sensitivity and energy, like a nuclear reactor.
But before I got too carried away she stood up, stepped back and, kneeling down with one leg either side of me, lowered herself onto my rigid prick.
It felt sensational as the lips of her pussy closed tightly around my cockhead, then lowered down the shaft until she had taken the whole of my cock, my bush caressing her shaved mound.
I had opened my first gift.
Sue sighed with pleasure as we finally committed that single act that many people believe is so wicked.
My mother had fucked me.
I felt wild with pleasure and began to move, once again she held her fingers up for me to be still and not speak.
With me buried deep inside her she paused to look at me.
Looking up at her from the bed she looked incredible, her white push-up bra revealing the brown of her nipples and perfect globes of her breasts. Her lips shone with wet-look lipstick and her makeup was so perfect. She was my bride, my wife, my life partner.
Then she began to rock slowly back and forth, gradually lengthening her thrusts until the head of my prick touched the lips of her slit.
Her skilful gyrations began to send me wild but all the time she kept fixed eye contact with me.
In, out, in out, sometimes lifting her pelvis. In and out.
I desperately wanted to reach out and cup her breasts but knew instinctively this is how she wanted to consummate our marriage, seal our fate together.
Then I came like a volcano erupting, almost no warning.
I tried to call out but only a long grunt of ecstasy came out.
Then I shot my hot load deep into my mother.
Then again, squirming and writhing under her rhythmic hips.
Still I came, still she held my eye contact, suddenly she closed her eyes, threw back her head and moaned aloud, ” I love you Jack, I love you!”
Her orgasm coincided with mine and the rhythmic pulsing of her cunt on my shaft heightened an impossible level of thrill.
Slowly our rhythmic dance slowed, the orgasms ceased and a strange stillness came over us.
To signal that I could once again enjoy the thrill of touching her, Sue reached behind her, fiddled for a moment with the fastens, then let her bra hang loose offering me her firm breasts.
She shrugged the unwanted bra to the floor.
Instinctively I knew I was released from my tactile imprisonment and I cupped her breasts with both hands, thumbs circling her erect nipples.
It felt so right, neither of us regretting our act, but wanting to repeat it again and again.
But now I wanted to open my second present.
Somehow I knew she wanted to keep her makeup untouched, aching to kiss me but determined to look her most beautiful for me on this special night.
I reached up, gently adjusting her bridal veil.
“You look so beautiful Sue, absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you Jack, my beautiful child,” she said softly, “Now do you want to take your second gift?”
I nodded and smiled, “Except I don’t know how to do it! I don’t want to hurt you.”
She raised a finger to her lips, kissed it and planted it gently on my mouth.
She held her soft finger there for a moment then reassured me, “I’ll show you.”
Slowly she arched her hips and withdrew my cock from inside her, a long string of cum stretched from my cockhead up inside her cunt until it eventually broke, the cum springing back on me like it was made of latex.
As I sat up I said stupidly, “I don’t want to muss up your hair or beautiful makeup Sue, how do I get… I mean… What position is best?”
We were kneeling, facing each other, her breasts caressing my chest hair, our lips almost touching.
“Give me your hands love,” she said softly, “And I’ll show you.”
She took my hands and looked closely at my fingernails. I Had always taken pride in my hand care and kept my nails short and filed.
“Short nails,” she said, looking into my eyes, “It’s very sensitive and easily damaged.”
Once again she kissed my fingers.
“You can’t rush this way of love making, or you’ll hurt your lover.
“I’ll be careful Sue, I couldn’t bear to hurt you”
She stretched across, opened the drawer of her bedside cupboard.
“Water based lubes Jack, lots of it. There can never be enough. But not oil”
I am Kneeling on the bed. My mother is dressed as a sexy bride, her bare breasts brush against my arms having just ridden me in our first act of incest. Now she is using one clenched fist and the finger and thumb of her other hand to silently teach me how to stretch her rosebud, while I psyched myself up for my first anal sex ever. With her?
I watch in disbelief as she pours lube into her fist then begins to slowly insert her finger. Slowly and carefully stretching the orifice. Then two fingers, then her thumb, stretching downwards.
Finally she inserts two flings deep into her fist.
“Slowly, carefully, listen to my reactions, never force, ease it in.”
Slowly she removes her fingers then reaches down to touch the head of my cock.
“Lube, lots of lube. Never enough She said, handing me the bottle.”
Before kneeling on all fours she gently brushes her glossy lips against mine.
“It’s your right now my love. Be gentle With me.”
After a couple of seconds she turned sideways across the bed until she was facing her dressing table mirror.
“I want to watch your face when you come,” she said softly.
And so I began.
As an act of tenderness I knelt forwards, gently opening her buttocks and slowly licking her rosebud with my tongue.
She reacted with a shudder of ecstasy which fired up my prick into overdrive.
I did lube her.
I did stretch her carefully.
She winced as I inserted two fingers but relaxed as I rested her between pushes.
After a while she said simply, “I’m ready now my darling, your very big so take it slowly.”
I was surprised just how tight she was, how much pressure I had to use to push my cockhead into her sphincter, and her sharp gasp as I slid in.
I experienced a tight gripping feeling as she closed around me. Then I was inside her.
The feeling of grip and suction was gloriously sexy.
She moaned a little as I gradually eased deeper into her hole, centimetre by centimetre.
She gasped more often now as my thick prick stretched her sphincter to new limits.
A couple of times she begged me to rest while she got used to the pain.
My cockhead was more intensely sensitive than any time in my life.
Slowly I eased into her, my hands gripping her thighs.
The ecstatic sight of my mother on all fours wearing stockings and suspenders was incredible.
Then I began to fuck her ass, slowly at first, pulling out until the rim of my cockhead reached the tight elastic bands fighting against me to close her sphincter.
“I need to fuck you hard now Sue,” I said with a sudden urgency.
Then I pushed hard into her, thrilled by the strong suction and moist walls of her ass gripping my prick. All the way in until my bush hit hard against her ass, making the soft slapping sound of flesh on flesh.
Sue gasped aloud in pain as she was stretched more than my Dad ever had. Then withdrew out to the lips.
Her hands gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles white, her face a deathly pale, screwed up in agony.
She was weeping now, but my animal brain wanted more. My ears again deaf to any protest.
Thankfully for Sue I only thrust a couple of times more before I came.
Gripping her hips I gave one powerful upwards thrust and shot my seed deep inside her moist anal canal.
This time she cried aloud as my prick reached deeper than she had ever been ass fucked, and at the power of my ejaculations.
I too let out an animal grunt of ecstasy as I experienced the most overwhelming sensations in my prick I could ever dream of.
I came and came. Never before nor since have I come so hard for so long.
That first anal penetration confirmed to me that all other forms of sex pale into insignificance against such an out-of-this-world frisson of excitement.
(Reader, if you haven’t yet experienced anal sex you must give it a try, bareback. It is truly unforgettable and addictive.)
As the last spasm of my cum shot into her, my eyes focussed again on her face in the dressing table mirror. Her eyes were filled with tears and her makeup had begun to run.
But she still looked at me with deep love in her eyes.
I didn’t want to pull my prick from her ass – not ever. It felt unbelievably sexy, warm, tight and forbidden.
(For a fleeting moment Simone’s beautiful face flashed across my mind and I instantly resolved to fuck her ass too next day.)
Inevitably my erection began to shrink and reluctantly I slowly withdrew my prick out through the tight constrictions of her rosebud. It popped out into the warm air of the bedroom and with it came a faint earthy abdominal smell.
Sue gasped and sighed as finally my thick cock was removed from her ass, making a soft sucking sound.
I looked down at her rosebud which had strings of semen seeping out, oozing down towards her vagina.
It still looked incredibly inviting, and I only just managed to fight an urge to return to that wonderful hole.
Then the enormity of our crime hit me and I looked at Sue, hoping for some words that might assuage my guilt.
But non came.
There were no magic words to right our wrong, except our mutual words of love and devotion.
Sue had slumped down onto the bed as if all the life had left her body. I moved to one side and lay close to her.
She was still sobbing, tears still rolling down her cheeks.
At that moment my emotions were in turmoil, a mixture of jubilation, deep animal lust and heart-rending pity for the woman I had just hurt.
I placed an arm around her, drawing her slight body towards me.
“I hurt you, after I promised…”
“(Sob) you’re young. It was your first…”
“I’ve spoiled everything…”
“No! It was me. I pushed your emotions too far…”
“You gave me your body and I hurt you!”
“It’s passing now. I think I’ll be able to walk again!”she said, turning her face towards me.
I thought I detected the beginnings of a smile.
“How bad was it for you?”
There it was, that cheeky smile.
“How do you think it was?” she said, giving me a gentle punch on my arm, “How’d you feel with a rolling pin stuck up your bottom?”
Then she sniggered. But her eye makeup was now smeared and she looked a mess.
“Imagine it! A huge black rolling pin up your bum! Want to give it a try?”
She was returning to her old self.
I tried to smile but could only feel intense love and remorse for this woman.
“I’ll give that a miss if you don’t mind?” I said, forcing a false grin.
“Hold me tight Jack, and kiss me,” she said softly.
I gathered her up into my arms and kissed her mouth.
She reached down and gave my pubic hairs a harsh tug, making me yell out.
“Hey, that hurt!” I said, screwing my face into a grimace.
“Call that pain?” she said, giving my bush another tweak.
“Go get me that rolling pin and I’ll show you pain!”
Then she sprang to life, pushing me away across the bed and bouncing off of bed.
“You cheeky MILF!” Come back here and do as your told.
“Smelly arsed gorilla!” she shouted, again doing her orangutang impression complete with ape sounds.
Then she shot into the bathroom, leaving the door open.
A moment later she called me,”Come and shower with me love, you might want to kiss it better?”
That night set the pattern for the rest of our lives together.
It began with the bathroom. Sue insisted that we always kept the door open, whatever we were doing.
So I got used to washing and pissing while Sue was in the shower or standing at the wash basin.
We dressed together, we showered together, washed each other’s backs and towelled one another dry.
There were to be no secrets.
One particular event sticks in mind mind, even after all these years.
When we went into the bathroom together after our first honeymoon sex, Sue insisted she wash my penis clean, carefully and gently washing around my cockhead, shaft and balls. Afterwards she dried me.
In return I helped her douche her ass and cunt.
It was strange but somehow felt right.
After restoring her makeup and removing the flowers from her hair we both dressed very casually and returned to our bed.
Then to celebrate, we drank champagne, lots of champagne, and talked long into the night.
Towards midnight we fucked again. This time her on her back and me between her legs, so we could watch each other’s faces and kiss.
From time to time we fell into deep embraces, kissing passionately, feverishly running our hands over every part of the other’s bodies.
That night we set many ground rules for our clandestine relationship, from simple stuff such as which side of the bed we would sleep on, through our behaviour to each other outside and at home, to how we would share our respective extra-marital sexual conquests.
In the early hours Sue broke the good news that she had been asked to help out as model for a stockings brochure, and how her legs would be seen around the country.
It was at the same interview with her boss, Mike Jeavons, that her asked her out on a date.
Sue knew he had gone through a bad time with his marriage and how his wife had left him for another woman!
We both cracked up as we imagined what sort of lover Mike must be for his wife to fuck off with a woman!
Sue said openly that she liked Mike, and how he was clean, smart and always acted properly when working together in the boudoir studio with her.
We agreed she had to go on the date with him and should let him fuck her, but I insisted she made him use a condom and most definitely no anal sex!
I didn’t like the idea of another man touching my wife, but I could see the logic of her plan.
Then Sue asked me for details about my first fuck with Simone.
She wanted to hear it all, down to every lick, every, kiss and every thrust. When Sue had listened to the whole story, including the two psycho bitches with cameras, she came up with a shocking but very clever suggestion.
“You say they took photos of you and Simone doing it?”
“No, not fucking, but they had listened to us go at it like rabbits.”
“So there are probably photos of you and your penis circulating college as we speak.”
I dreaded to think of it but realised she was probably right.
“Then you must build on your reputation as a stud with a giant member. You must try to bed as many of the girls on your course as possible. Two at a time if necessary,” she said thoughtfully.
“And get some video of you with them out on a few porn sites? No one would ever suspect us under a cover like that.”
Next lunchtime I persuaded Simone to invite the two psycho bitches to video us having sex. I told her the idea made me horny.
They both came. Quite literally. Both with my cock inside them.
And the video went viral around the college and the town.
That night Sue went out on her date with her boss and stayed out all night. Mike had booked them a hotel and they slept together for the first time.
For the next two years that’s how we lived.
To the outside world a devoted widowed mother supporting her son through his education – making him a cooked breakfast every morning. Going out to work herself, an ordinary mother getting through her boring life as best she could.
Both of us continued having dates and casual affairs that we tried to make as public as possible.
Me, more often then not out with Simone. People remarked how well matched we were, both tall fit and good looking. Sue had the occasional fuck with her boss and sometimes with the photographers.
As word got around we were both a little promiscuous no one could possibly believe our true relationship.
At home, behind closed doors, away from prying eyes, I was Jack, her husband, secretly living together as man and wife – still deeply in love.
Every night sleeping in each others arms, in our own personal heaven. Always wearing our wedding rings.
Eventually Simone and I drifted apart. I believe she moved to Italy with her parents and is now married with a couple of kids.
We exchange cards at Christmas.
When I was twenty and sporting a black designer beard we moved away to a new town where nobody knew us.
I changed my name from Jack Covington to Jack Race by deed pole and Sue changed her’s from Sue Covington to Suzi Race.
Together we opened a photographic business specialising in boudoir portraits.
Me behind the lens, Suzi responsible for lingerie and makeup.
Our days are spent creating sexy photos of middle-aged women wearing stockings and suspender belts in last ditch attempts to rekindle fire into their sexually atrophied husbands.
Now we can safely hold hands and kiss in public.
Over the years we have gathered a close circle of friends with whom we regularly socialise.
They are mostly grateful customers for whom our boudoir photography succeeded in rewarding them with hard erections and sex on tap.
Non of them suspects our wicked secret.
To protect ourselves from discovery we have created a pretty convincing back story that answers most of the commonest questions that all close friends eventually ask. Only a dogged private detective, a DNA test or the police, could disprove it.
Sure, people wonder how an older woman can sustain a strong, loving relationship with an attractive younger man.
If only they could see the range of erotic suspender belts she wears all the time for me – they wouldn’t ask! And of course the awesome sex!
Suzi was recently taken on by a modelling agency and can be seen in many lingerie catalogues targeting sexy middle-aged women. She diets and works out regularly, still looks stunning and at least ten years younger than her true age. People assume there is only a few years between us.
Too high a risk of a genetic mutation to risk a child’s life.
And to make sure it stays that way I supervise Suzi taking her birth control pills every morning, just in case she ever gets broody.