Page: 1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6| 7| 8| 9| 10 | 11 | 12 |
"That's amazing, thanks Mom. We must do this again soon." Tom said, trying to pin me down to more. I slid off the hood and into his arms as he helped me down. I leant in and kissed him on the cheek, close to the corner of his mouth, before slipping out of his embrace.
"Sure, we'll see angel," I said nonchalantly and made my way back into the house. My first port of call was the downstairs bathroom. As soon as I was inside and sat down on the toilet, I whipped my panties down my thighs and gave a tiny whimper as I touched my pussy. it was red hot and sopping wet and not just from the heat of the engine I'd been perched above. I pulled up the website on my phone and began to strum my clit as I read Tom thread. Yes, there it was, I could have cheered. There was my closet, online for everyone to see and imagine how I'd look in each item. I read Tom's post eagerly:
'Hi guys (and girls!), here it is then, the Aladdin's Cave that is my Mom's closet. What d'you think? I'll do my best to photograph her in things that you like but obviously I can't guarantee it straight away or anything, cos I can't exactly ask her up front to wear stuff. A little patience, therefore, agreed? I don't know about you guys but personally, and speaking with my foot fetish hat on, I could have blown my load over the iridescent red slides with the metallic spike. I had *no idea* Mom had these. I wonder where she's been hiding them.
'Anyway, she's off picking up my Dad at the moment from the airport so, again, patience is called for. I'm so excited to do this for you guys, you've all been rocks supporting me (well, except those who think it's all BS!) and to prove just how sexy my Mom really is. I know this is all fantasy and she'll never really know how I feel (at least I hope not as she's probably section me, right?) but I do feel so much closer to her since I started all this and what I'm doing seems to have made us closer. I don't know how but anyway, I'll keep you all posted on developments...off to jack off to the thought of Mom in those slides now! ; )'
Oh God, it was all too much to take. The thought of him loving those shoes, shoes I'd bought years ago and never had the guts to wear out but which were too pretty to throw away, was enough to almost tip me over the edge. I'd left them there prominently because I thought he might like them and like them he did. I wanted to wear them for me, I wanted to watch him jack off over me, over them, over me in them. I pressed my hand against the wall, holding myself up as my orgasm ripped through me. I had to stuff my hand in my mouth even as I gripped my phone in it to stop myself from crying out. I rested my head against the wall for a few moments as I struggled to catch my breath.
It was all so beautiful, his words, the feeling of his strong hands around my waist, the knowledge that my teasing him as I sat on the car must have made him want to jack off again. maybe, in his bathroom that was exactly what was happening now. There was no shame now after my orgasm, just a further loop of incestuous love and lust from which I couldn't and longer wanted to escape.
Later, once I had calmed down a little and had a chance to read further into the thread and see the replies that Tom's post had already garnered, I was fascinated to see what people thought. It's not often a woman gets genuine feedback on her wardrobe, though admittedly this came from a bunch of guys whom pretty much everybody would consider perverts, so I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. While different people had different favorite items, there was a general consensus that I could do with a sexier wardrobe, though, as some pointed out, it did indeed look like the wardrobe of a 46-year-old married woman ought to look. Tom had taken four pictures. One of just the whole closet, one a close up of my dresses and skirts hanging up on the rail, one of my shoes lined up neatly beneath and one, the naughty boy, of my underwear drawer, which he had opened.
I took mental note of each item that the posters wanted to see me in and began to plan my outfits for the next week, including just enough of the items called for to give Tom hope that he might be able to prove that he was telling the truth about what was happening in his life.
That evening Tom posted the pictures of me on the Honda to general acclaim. I lay on my bed while Bob was in the bathroom doing his ablutions, reading the approving comments about my legs, my feet and even my perky little breasts. The comments made me warm inside, proud that I still had enough to arouse attention, albeit from a bunch of perverts on the internet who'd jerk off over anything with a pulse. Still, it was more than I was getting from the man in the bathroom wasn't it? And the fact that I had posed deliberately for these photos, teasing my son who I knew wanted me, just made it even more delicious. I didn't care that I was betraying Bob, he had long ago decided that I wasn't worth his effort. Neither did I care that it was my son whom I was betraying him for - that just made it more exciting now and it felt like poetic justice. Bob might not notice me but the other man who shared his roof certainly did.
There was still some skepticism expressed in some quarters about whether this was really Tom's Mom, though one eagle-eyed poster, who was clearly examining things far too closely, pointed out that this had to be the same woman as before because there was a tiny mole on the instep of my right foot that was present in both this picture and the original one that Tom had taken of my feet on the sofa when I had pretended to pass out. This post seemed to boost Tom's prestige even further and the excitement of the group about what was happening. There was plenty of speculation about what Tom's Mom was actually doing, whether she knew and if she wanted to take things further.
I can't tell you how arousing it was to read their thoughts, their comments on me and my actions, to know what they thought. A few weeks ago, I'd have been horrified to know that a bunch of guys on the internet were speculating that I wanted to fuck my own son and that I was a 'prick-teasing whore', as one of them put it, who 'deserves to have the OP put her over his knee and spank her sexy ass till its purple.' Would Tom really do that to me, I wondered? I closed my eyes and imagined it, his strong hands punishing me for my wicked behavior.
By the time Bob returned to the bedroom, I was hot and raring to go but he just said that he was tired and rolled over. I wanted to scream at him, at the world, but I didn't. I went to sleep, dreaming of my son and us being watched by all the horny little incest pervs on the website.
I have to admit that over the next few days, I deserved the title of 'prick-teasing whore' that one of the posters had bestowed on me. Each day I wore at least one item that one of the posters had requested. Each morning, when Tom saw me, I could see his little eyes light up in excitement at the possibility that he might be able to prove once and for all that he was telling the truth. Several times, he would ask whether he could take another photo. Each time, I just gave a little laugh or a dismissive wave of the hand and told him that I'd think about it, or we'd do it another day. It was amusing to watch his disappointment but I knew that it was building the tension in him and in the group. You see...prick-teasing. I was a naughty Mommy, I know, and I deserved all the punishment I got later.
On the Friday night, Bob was out with some friends at some golfing event leaving Tom and I together. I was in bare feet, as usual, giving Tom plenty of opportunity to admire them as they poked out from beneath my jeans. I was on one sofa, feet stretched out towards him, my crinkly soles on full display. I could see him looking at them from behind his iPad as I idly watched the news on the TV. Eventually he gave a long sigh.
I looked across at him. "What is it angel?" I asked. He put down the iPad and looked at me.
"Nothing Mom, it's just...well...no, you wouldn't be up for it," he said and made to pick up his iPad again. Oh ho, I thought, two can play at this game obviously. I decided to play along. I'd teased him long enough, well, almost long enough.
"Wouldn't be up for what? Come on honey, don't hold out on your Mom," I said, moving my foot to poke his knee. I could tell it took a great effort on his part not to grab my naked foot and hold it there.
"Ok, if you're sure," he said after a pause. "Katie and I are going shopping tomorrow for her prom dress."
"Uh huh," I said, "And?"
"Well, I, umm, really want her to look her best. Not for me, of course, well not just for me but for her. I've been thinking hard about what you've said recently, about her being naive and when she's older she'll understand how cool it is to be really feminine and all," he gabbled slightly. Well, that wasn't exactly what I said but I guess it wasn't a million miles from it.
"Yes, go on," I said encouragingly. He paused, looked down, took a deep breath and continued.
"And, well, I thought maybe if I could take a few pictures to show her just how feminine and pretty she could look if she went for some really nice heels with her dress, then maybe she'd go with that and, when she was a bit older she'd not regret looking her absolute best at her Prom. I mean, I know you still have a picture of you at your Prom in your bedroom and I want future Katie to be able to look at that photo and think how sexy...I mean how nice she looked."
I grinned. "It's ok baby, you can say 'sexy' in front of you Mom," I chuckled. Well, it was a pretty lame excuse but he was only 18 and full of hormonal lust and he'd clearly been thinking of some way to get me to pose for a week. Were I in any way a normal mom, I'd have shot him down in flames but I was no longer any sort of normal mother. "You really think that will help angel?" I asked skeptically but not in a way that shut off the possibility.
He nodded eagerly. "I really think it might Mom. I know it's a lot to ask, but I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it would help." Yes you would, you naughty boy, I thought but, after a moment of pretended deliberation, I said I would. Tom burst out of his seat and then tried to cover his excitement.
"Come on, then," I said, "Take me to my bedroom Mr. Director and you can pick out what you want me to wear. No hanging around while I change, though," I teased, "I don't think Katie would think that was helping would she?"
"Ha, ha!" Tom laughed nervously, "No, no, I guess she wouldn't. Not that I would, of course, Mom," he added quickly. I looked at him slyly.
"Wouldn't you? You are a teenaged guy, after all, and I do have a pulse, so that should qualify as enough to interest you, even if I am your Mom," I joked.
"You're way prettier than you give yourself credit for. If you weren't..." he trailed off, aware what he was about to let slip out. I just smiled as I led my boy to my bedroom.
"If I weren't so old, I know," I said for him, though we both knew that wasn't what he meant at all. He couldn't bring himself to deny it so we just left it there until we reached my room. I dramatically flung open the doors of my closet, as if he didn't know exactly what was inside. Well, in fact he didn't, as I'd made some new purchases that week to liven up my wardrobe including a daring black cocktail dress with a short skirt and sequins.
Like a magpie, Tom was drawn to its shininess, even though it hadn't been in the picture he'd displayed on the internet. He reached out to touch it as if mesmerized. Clearly he'd touched quite a few items in here on his photo raid last week.
"This, you sure?" I asked. "It's a bit daring, don't you think?" I said holding it up against me and pouting slightly. "I'm not sure that Katie would go for this sort of thing." Tom swallowed hard.
"No, no, definitely Mom. It'll give her confidence to go for something daring, if she sees you in it. I think she's already a little jealous of you and your looks Mom, so it might spur her on you know," he added slyly, changing tack slightly.
I shrugged, happy to be beaten. "Sure, ok, if you want angel," I said and then reached in to my lingerie drawer and pulled out a pair of black stockings that I'd also purchased today. Tom looked surprised, these had certainly not been in my drawer when he had photographed it. I hadn't purchased a pair of stockings for years and I'd done it on an impulse this afternoon when buying the dress. I playfully brushed the nylon material over Tom's arm and grinned. "What d'you reckon baby? Stockings or bare feet and which shoes?" I asked, knowing precisely which one's he'd ask for.
It seemed for a moment as if Tom was struggling to breathe. He pulled himself together and cleared his throat. "Um, barefoot I think Mom. I'm not sure I could persuade Katie to go for stockings. I think that might be a bridge too far." I smiled knowingly.
"Sure, well, if Katie won't like it, I'll leave them off." I tossed them back into my lingerie drawer. "Which shoes then angel?" I giggled. "It's fun, having you dress me. I feel like your little doll," I teased. I followed Tom's finger as he pointed at the iridescent red slides with the peephole toes. I knew he'd choose those. I smiled and bent down to pick them up, letting them dangle from my fingers. "These ones honey? Can I tell you a secret?" I asked, lowering my voice to a whisper even though there was only the two of us in the house. Tom nodded mutely, perhaps not trusting himself to speak. "I've never actually worn these. I bought them on a whim a few years ago for a wedding and then your Dad said they were too slutty for a wedding so I chickened out and never wore them again. How silly is that? You sure I should wear them now?"
"They're beautiful Mom," Tom breathed. "You must wear them," he said more definitely and I gave a little shiver of delight at his firmness.
"Yes Mr. Director," I giggled. "If you say so." We pauses for a moment looking at each other and then I began to unbutton my jeans, the sound of the zipper drawing Tom's attention down to my groin, seemingly frozen to the spot. I slid them half way over my butt, revealing a pair of Brazilian-cut black panties with creamy lace edges, and then stopped. "Tommy?" I said in a slightly sing-song tone. Tom looked up and into my eyes, blushing slightly.
"Yes Mom?"
"You're not planning on staying are you?" I said with a naughty smile. "I wouldn't mind but I'm not sure Katie would approve," I added.
"No, right, um, sure. Ok Mom, I'll, er, wait outside shall I?"
"Sure honey," I said lightly. "No peeking though, ok?" I said and blew him a little kiss and giggled. He backed away grinning, no longer intimidated by my flirting but seeming to enjoy it.
"Ok Mom," he said, "but it'll be hard."
"Mmm promises, promises," I giggled again. Tom closed the door behind him and I bit my lip to stop myself moaning and touching myself. What was I doing? Flirting so outrageously. I'd not flirted like that with a guy for years and years. It felt good, though. Really good, especially given that it was Tommy. Seeing the effect I was having on him up close and personal was even more exciting than reading about it. If only the guys on the message board could see us now!
Slowly, though, Nancy, I told myself. Slowly, slowly. Don't get ahead of yourself. I dressed as quickly as I could, looked into the woman staring back at me in the mirror and took a deep breath. "Here goes, Nancy," I said.
Tom was waiting in the corridor. He gave a low wolf whistle when I came out giving me all the confidence I needed. I gave him a twirl. "What d'ya think Mr. Director?" I asked. "Will I pass muster for the Prom?" I giggled. Tom smiled.
"I'd take you in a heartbeat Mom," he said looking right into my eyes and I knew that he meant it.
"Well, aren't you a sweetie?" I said. "So, where do you want me?" I asked, letting the question hang in the air for just a moment before adding. "For the photos I mean," as if I could mean anything else.
"How about at the top of the stairs, Mom?" He suggested and I glided to the top step. As I did so, we both her the distinct sound of the slapping of my sole against the sole of the red slides, like the crack of a whip. Tom's head snapped back, as if he himself had been slapped in the face. I giggled.
"Sorry, they're a bit loud aren't they?" I apologized. Tom just smiled.
"No, no, they're great...I mean, it's fine Mom."
"If you say so Tommy," I replied lightly. Tom went down three or four stairs and then looked up at me. I could see the excitement, the lust and the love in his eyes. He stared at me with a devotion that made me warm inside and which I don't think I'd ever had from another human being. It made me want to reach out and kiss him. Instead, I posed for him the ways that he asked - front on, side on, over the shoulder, hands on hips, leaning against the wall. Tom had obviously thought about this a great deal and was making the most of an opportunity which might not, in his mind, come again.
"Why don't we take it downstairs, Mom?" Tom asked after a while and I obliged, again enjoying the slap, slap, slap, of my soles with each step that I took. The heels looked amazing, the red changing its shade depending on the way that the light caught it and the metallic gold heel glinting. I walked with a confident sexiness that I'd not felt for years, knowing that Tom's gaze and that of his camera was on me with every movement I made. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Tom patted the end of the handrail, which ended in a convenient plate of flat wood. "Perch yourself on here Mom, I think that will look really great, like with the car."
"Will that help with Katie?" I asked innocently. Tom just smiled, more confidently now.
"No, but this is just for me, Mom. To remind me what a beautiful, sexy Mom I have," he said calmly, looking right into my eyes. I felt my skin prickling and this time it was me who blushed.
"Oh Tommy," I said in a low tone. "You shouldn't say such things, you know. You'll have to help me up again," I added, not backing away from what he requested.
His hands went around my waist again and I could have just melted into his embrace. I wanted to, I really did, but I stopped myself. This was just too much fun and I didn't want it to end. "Why not Mom? They're just true and you deserve to know the truth."
I looked into his eyes, just inches from mine as he placed me gently on the handrail and I gripped it to gain my balance. "Do I Tommy?" I asked softly. He just nodded and then stepped back and began to photograph me again.
Being perched above him, with him clicking away beneath me, I felt so sexy, added to the intense flirting I was all but squirming on my perilous seat. Perhaps because I was feeling horny, I began to stroke the wooden banister that held up the handrail with my foot. It was thick and hard and long and I couldn't help but imagine that it was Tom's cock, that beautiful cock that I'd seen in the photo and craved to see in real life. I barely noticed I was doing it until I spotted that Tom was watching it. I looked down and then up into his eyes and blushed again. "Ooops, sorry," I said. "It just feels nice," I added in explanation.
"You just do what feels natural, Mom. The camera loves you," he said and so, after a moment, I began to stroke again, this time with my bare foot as the red shoe tumbled to the floor between us. I curled my toes around the wood pole, the painted nails matching the red of my shoes, as if I had chosen the shade deliberately this morning which, of course, I had. I don't know how long I was up there but Tom must have got through a lot of snaps, far more than he'd need to show Katie, not that he was planning to do that.
Page: 1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6| 7| 8| 9| 10 | 11 | 12 |
