Page: 1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6| 7| 8| 9| 10 | 11 | 12 |
"Ok angel, that's enough," I said eventually and slid off the handrail. I slipped my foot back into the shoe, Tom watching all the while, and flexed my toes a couple of times to make sure that I was in them properly. "Ok, let me see," I said and reached out for the camera. Tom tried to draw it away.
"No, Mom, I don't..." he trailed off as I took it from his hands.
"What? They're photos of me after all," I said and began to flick through them. The first few, when we were up the stairs were perfectly respectable, though there were a few of my legs, feet and shoes. These could all be regarded as acceptable, given that Tom was ostensibly trying to persuade Katie that heels looked good. And they did look good, even though I say so myself. As we went on, though, and as I went through the pictures on the bottom of the stairs more and more photos were of my heels and of my feet, especially when I was stroking the banister with my bare foot. I looked up and arched an eyebrow at him. "Tommy?" I said softly, inviting an explanation.
"Mom, I'm sorry...I just..." He stammered. I closed the gap between us and placed the camera back in his hand, then took his other one and closed it over the machine. I then raised a finger to his lips.
"Shhh, it's ok sweetie. This will just be our little secret, ok? No one needs to know. But tell me the truth, do you have a thing for women's feet? I'm kinda guessing that the answer is yes." Tom nodded and I mirrored his nod. "That's ok, I'm not angry angel. I shouldn't have teased you should I?"
"No, it's ok Mom, I had fun," Tom managed to say. I smiled wickedly.
"Don't tell your Dad or Katie," I whispered and kissed him on the cheek. "But so did I. We should do it again sometime but I think we'll bring this to a close for this evening so we can both cool off. I'll be back down in a bit, after I've got changed." It was one of the hardest things I've ever done as my body was screaming at me to kiss him, to take him and let him take me. I could tell, though, that he wasn't quite ready to do that. He needed just a bit more confident to become the kind of man who could control me in the way that I now realised I needed. With a great effort, then, I stepped back and walked back up the stairs, the slap of my soles on my shoes, echoing around the hallway.
I returned downstairs a few minutes later, having first taken care of myself, changed into my nightie and kimono. My feet were covered, for propriety's sake, in a pair of fluffy white slippers and I settled down on the sofa and flicked on the TV as if nothing had happened between us. It was obvious to me that Tom hadn't taken the opportunity to take care of himself. I could see the outline of erection in his pants as he worked on his laptop, the very same laptop on which all this trouble began. The camera was plugged into the laptop via a USB cable.
"Whatcha doing?" I asked him. He looked up from his typing and smiled shyly. "Uploading the photos, are you?" I ask innocently. "Just be careful who sees them, ok? I don't want people thinking your Mom is a slut or anything." Tom smiled back again, more confidently this time.
"Don't worry Mom, anyone who saw them would only think what a beautiful mother I have."
"Flatterer," I said but I was pleased by it as I turned back to the screen. Tom resumed his typing and I knew what he was doing. He was uploading his photos to the website, presumably with a commentary on what happened between us. The knowledge that he was posting in real time right next to me, that he couldn't wait to tell everyone on the forum about his triumph with his Mom, was amusing and exciting in equal measure.
To be fair to Tom, he'd been getting quite a bit of heat this week from the skeptics in the group as he'd had to post excuses about why he'd failed to produce a photo yet. He was just eager to prove his credentials, I could hardly blame him for that. I had to squeeze my thighs together in anticipation of the way the forum would explode once he proved is bona fides and the community got a look at me in my sparkly dress and iridescent shoes. I wondered which photos he'd choose and I trusted that he'd continue his good judgement in keeping my identity secret. I couldn't help but chuckle at that. I was like some superhero - Nancy, normal working mom by day, Superslut by night! Hmm, I wondered, was Tom into cosplay at all?
After a while, Tom finished and put his laptop away and joined me in watching the TV. Neither of us said anything, we were both recovering I think from the intensity of tonight's interactions. After a bit, Tom made his excuses and headed upstairs. The bulge in his pants was still there and I could only imagine that he was finally going to do something about it. I admired his self-restraint. I sat there for a moment, thinking about what he might be doing and then it hit me that I could see or maybe hear it if I was quiet. I kicked off my slippers and, leaving the TV on, I tiptoed up the stairs and waited near the top step, not far from Tom's room. The door was closed unfortunately, Tom was sensibly careful, but, listening hard, I could hear the slap of skin against skin and the occasional grunt.
He was certainly jacking off. Did he have my picture up on the screen, I wondered? God, I hoped so, I really did. I really wanted him to be jerking his cock off to me. I deserved that, after all I'd done for him. Not some high school prude who wouldn't know sexy if it slapped her in the face and sucked on her pussy. I leant back against the wall and my hand snaked inside my kimono and raised the hem of my nightie. I wasn't wearing panties underneath, it felt too good to be restrained at the moment. My fingers brushed my clit and I whimpered, stuffing my hand in my mouth to stop me giving the game away. I just listened to Tom, my beautiful boy stroking his beautiful cock, through the wall.
There we were, just separated by a few inches of wood and wallpaper communing together, cumming together. I hadn't ever felt closer to him even though we couldn't see each other. I loved my boy so much, I thought as my orgasm spread out from my core to fill me with delight. This feels right. This will be right. Afterwards, flushed with pleasure I slipped downstairs again before he emerged from his room. A few moments later, I heard his door open. Could he smell me, I wondered. All I heard though, was the sound of the toilet being flushed as he disposed of what I supposed was a tissue filled with his sticky, incest-inspired cum.
I managed to avoid looking online until Saturday morning. Tom was out with Katie as he had said, and I did wonder what she'd end up buying as her Prom dress, while Bob was again at the golf club, this time playing 36 holes so he wouldn't be back for hours. Given that he had a stinking hangover, I doubted that he'd be playing very well.
As I suspected, Tom's thread had exploded with life in response to his posting of the proof that I really was posing for him. I read Tom's own post carefully:
'Well, last night things moved up another notch (or, well maybe five notches!). I know a few of you have been skeptical about whether I was telling the truth but you can't just expect it to happen. I told you to be patient and you'll see the attached as proof both that I was telling the truth, that my Mom is as sexy as hell and also that I super confused about what the hell's going on. As you know, I'd been trying to get her to pose all week but she'd kept putting me off. I came up with the most bullshit excuse imaginable - I'm not going to tell you what it was cos it was pretty lame but Mom seemed to buy or maybe she just took pity on me. Anyway, she took me to her room and let me choose what I wanted her to wear (for reasons involving the excuse I gave her!). I almost blew it in terms of proving to you guys as I chose something new she'd bought (you can see it in the photo, super-hot!) but it was just too sexy not to see her in it. Then, I fuck you not, she pulled out some stockings, which again I'd never seen before, and asked me if I wanted her to wear them. I did but I just wanted to see her feet more so I said no - still not sure if I did the right thing there. I chose the red slides which, as you all know, were in the original photos I took so proof positive! : )
'The shoot was amazing, she's a natural and so gorgeous. I wish I could show you her beautiful face but I don't want to betray her that far. I mean, I know what I'm doing is a betrayal of her trust but I need some boundaries, right? I've attached a few shots for you all to ogle at but the one of her feet caressing the banister, that was just so amazing. I don't know if she really knew what she was doing, but I could have blown my load a thousand times. God, what I'd have given to be that lump of wood! Lol! I took way too many photos of her feet and, when she took the camera to look, there wasn't anything to do. She was so cool, though. I was sure I was going to get busted really badly and yelled at like the disgusting perv we all know I am. But she was amazing, she just said she wasn't angry, that it's be our secret and that she shouldn't have teased me.
'She's sitting opposite me now and has covered her feet up. What does all this mean guys? I'm so fucking confused? Do any of you think she might really be ok with all this? That she might suspect and not care or even, holy fuck, find it a turn on? Could she really want me? I mean she's so different lately. I mean, she's still the amazing, beautiful, kind Mom I fell in love with, but it's like we've our own secret relationship, our own secret language. Like she sees me as a man for the first time and a man she likes. Please help me guys, I think I'm going nuts. Just tell me I'm imagining it or, if I'm not, what the hell I should do. If it could really happen, I think I'd be the happiest, luckiest guy in the whole world. Any thoughts?'
There were thoughts - plenty of them! The question of whether Tom had been bullshitting was finally settled and there was some humble pie being eaten by the more skeptical members of the thread. What wasn't settled was what the hell Tom's Mom was up to. Some posters thought I was simply being a 'naive dumb bitch', others that I was a 'scheming whore' and pretty much everything in between. It was strange to read myself being described in these ultra-sexualized ways. Seeing deep into the heart of what men really wrote and thought about women when they thought they were being unobserved and were in supportive company was eye-opening, a little frightening but also strangely arousing.
I could never have imagined writing that just a few weeks before. The professional, hard-working, mother-of-one and married woman would have been appalled at the thought of men on the internet lusting after her so crudely, writing such filth about her and jacking off to her pictures while encouraging her son to fuck her. Now, though, it was different. I was different or perhaps just a part of me who had always been locked away had finally been freed and she glorified in the objectification that she was receiving from all these men - virile young men with cocks stood hard to attention for her and for her alone. It was intoxicating, even more so given what they wanted me and my boy to do with each other.
Amidst all the filth and jerk-off circling that was going on, one voice cut to the heart of the situation in a way that could only mean she was a mother too.
"What the OP needs to understand," the comment of Rosebyanyothername read, "is that Mom knows exactly what she's doing but that she's cautious about taking the final step. What you guys are advocating is illegal and against everything that she has known for her entire life. She may also be struggling with her maternal feelings. She's been abandoned by her husband for so long that she can't be sure whether the love she feels for her son is morphing into romantic love or if it's just transference. She's open for more, she's putting herself out there but she's not going to make the ultimate move. The OP needs to make it clear to her what he wants. Give her a definite but subtle sign that he wants more and I reckon she'll grab it with both hands, and maybe feet too! ;). Don't dive in, be creative is my advice."
She was right, I thought. I needed Tom to show me that what was happening was more than just fantasy. That what I was imagining in my head was really what he wanted to. I decided that Rose needed backup to cut through the misogynist noise. I began to type, hoping that Tom would read and that my previous successful post about the closet would give me credibility.
"Rose is right. Your Mom needs a signal to know that she's not being crazy and to give her the green light to be as naughty as I think she wants to be. She obviously enjoys the photo shoots, she did but you the camera after all! If you really want to go the distance, why don't you buy something to shoot her in. Something classy but where there's no mistaking what you mean."
I clicked Send and waited to see what would happen next. For the rest of the day my phone pinged with updates to show that my suggestion had found favor with the group. There were even plenty of recommendations of things he could buy. Most ranged from the ghastly to the downright tacky but there were a few items I wouldn't mind wearing. I just hoped that Tom had better taste than most of the guys on the site. Tom posted in the afternoon to say that he thought it was a great idea but that he couldn't afford the items he wanted.
'Thanks Rose for your advice. It was really helpful to have your input. I want to assure everyone that I really do want to make this happen if I can and if it's what Mom wants. I guess I'd only been thinking about it from my point of view but, if really you think she might be interested too, then it's a huge step for her too and I need to show her it's ok, right? I'll buy her something if I find the right thing and can afford it. If anyone wants to help you can donate to my Patreon site here.'
I clicked on the link and found the site which allowed me to become Tom's Patreon, essentially subsidize his purchase. I signed up for $25, once I'd ensured that it was anonymous and untraceable. I was intrigued to see what he'd buy. He'd not given anything away in his post, just that he'd chosen the items. My tummy fluttered with butterflies in anticipation.
When Bob returned from his golf, he was in a good mood. He'd been playing with the one of the Vice-Presidents of the company and, his hangover coupled with his sycophancy meant that he had lost. Compensation had come, though, in the form of an invitation to a charity masquerade costume ball that the company were throwing downtown next Friday night. There had been a cancellation by one of the senior executives and Bob and I had been invited in his stead.
Immediately my brain began to race. Not with the party, I couldn't give a fuck about that. Sure it was good for Bob's career that this had happened, blah, blah, blah, but all that mattered to me was the opportunity to dress up for Tom. Another chance for him to photograph me, for him to gain more confidence as we inched towards what was now, in my mind at least, the inevitable moment when he made his mother his own. I could show him the outfits, arouse him even further, and let him take photos on the pretense that I needed to see which looked best. The thought thrilled me, even more so when I knew he'd put them online for his group to gawp at and jerk off over.
I chuckled, I really was becoming Superslut, though the party sounded like a higher-class affair than your average Halloween party. A masquerade ball, though? If I wore a mask on some of the pictures Tom took, would he dare to put them online? The Superslut inside me thought, and hoped, that he would.
"Nancy? Are you even listening to me?" Bon's question dragged me away from my filthy fantasies and back to reality. I looked at him and smiled vaguely.
"Sorry Bob, I was miles away," I apologized. "What were you saying?"
"I as telling you about my round with the VP," he said exasperated. "Sometimes Nancy, I wonder what world you're living in." He said. I smiled. If only you knew, I thought, if only you knew.
There was an upmarket fancy dress shop a few blocks from my work and I decided to take the afternoon off on Wednesday to browse the stocks and pick out a few items. I rang them up to book in a fitting for hiring an item and asked if I were allowed to bring some different options home before deciding on a final costume for the evening as my husband wasn't able to join me for the fitting. They said this was fine and, on Monday evening, I casually told Tom my plans, suggesting that maybe he could take some photos to help me decide but that we should keep it a secret from Dad in order to surprise him. His eyes lit up in anticipation and I could see the possibilities running through his mind.
Tuesday seemed to last forever, but when Wednesday lunchtime finally arrived I drove hurriedly to the store and had a very helpful young shop assistant take all my measurements before offering me a catalogue with page after page of costumes, from the outlandish to the stylish, from sexy to sluttish and from cutesy to downright bizarre. I ran my fingers over the pages like a child in an old-fashioned sweet shop touching each of the jars, overwhelmed by the choice and possibilities. After agonizing for some time, I tried on several choices and with the help of the assistant, we narrowed it down to three. Each of them were boxed up, with accessories, and the assistant helped me carry them to the trunk of my car. She grinned at me conspiratorially as I got in the car.
"I'll be interested to see which choice you go for. Your husband's going to be one lucky man, if you don't mind my saying Madam," she told me. I blushed back, unable to reply from pleasure at the compliment and from the thrill of knowing that the man who would get most out of what I was going to wear would be my son.
I'm pretty sure that I broke the speed limit on numerous occasions on my way home. I was deflated, therefore, when Tom wasn't there when I got home. For a moment all my doubts came flooding in. What was I doing? A middle-aged sex-starved woman getting kicks from teasing her teenage son, what the hell was wrong with me? I should have been helping Tom get over his strange obsession with me instead of adding fuel to the flames. I must be mad. What would people think of me if they knew what I was going to do now and what I had been doing over the last few weeks?
I stood in the middle of my living room, surrounded by boxes of clothes and accessories, having an existential crisis and on the verge of tears, when I heard Tom come in. I tried to pull myself together but Tom could see that there was something wrong.
He closed the gap between us and took me in his arms. "I'm not sure I can do this Tommy," I whispered. It felt good in his arms. I could feel his strength, smell his masculinity. I embraced the sense of vulnerability as he kissed the top of my head, as if I were the child.
"What? Ask your son to help you pick out your outfit? There's nothing wrong with that Mom, is there? A few pictures for your benefit, there no harm in that, is there?" I shook my head against his chest.
"No, no, I suppose not," I conceded.
"I've blown off Katie and run all the way home from school to be here for you Mom, so there's no backing down now...ok?" He said and place his fingers under my chin, lifting it towards him so our eyes met. Our lips were only inches apart. All I needed to do was stand on tiptoes and all he needed to do was tilt his head a little lower and we'd be kissing. I wanted him so badly. His eagerness, and I could smell the evidence of it in the faint tang of sweat that clung to him, reinvigorated me. My confidence returned. I didn't kiss him, though I tell we both wanted to. I just nodded. He'd really left her for this? For me? That gave me a surge of confidence and of raw sexual triumph that he'd chosen me over her.
Page: 1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6| 7| 8| 9| 10 | 11 | 12 |
