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"Yes baby," I said submissively. "Whatever you say Mr. Director," my teasing tone returning. He grinned and suddenly slapped my bottom playfully. I gave a little squeal, half of surprise and half of delight. "Tommy!?" I exclaimed and he just grinned again, full of the cocksure assurance of youth.
"What I say Mom, is get your sexy little hiney upstairs, dry your eyes and get changed." I looked at him adoringly and gave a little bob of obeisance.
"Yes sir, Mr. Director," I said with a little lisp. "Will you bring my boxes upstairs for me? I need a strong man for the job," I simpered. He grinned again and picked up the boxes with ease as I all but skipped out of the room and up the stairs to my room. Tom followed me leisurely and placed the boxes on the bed. He stepped back. I looked at him and he smiled, waiting for me to ask him to leave. I held his gaze and began to unbutton my silk work blouse. I gulped as he didn't break eye contact and my small, pert breasts, in their satin ivory bra, came into view. I shrugged the blouse off my creamy shoulders and then turned my back on him and looked over my shoulder.
"Will you help me with the zip?" I asked gesturing towards the zip on my grey pencil skirt. Tom hesitated for a moment, looking for reassurance. "Please," I asked softly and he nodded, stepping forward and placing one hand on my waistband. I heard the zip coming down and felt him pull the two panels of my skirt apart. I knew that he could see my ass, covered only by an ivory pair of satin panties and dark pantyhose. My breathing was ragged as I waited for him to slide the skirt off my behind and down my long legs. I gave a tiny whimper when, instead, he kissed my shoulder lightly, brushed my long red hair away from my ear and whispered.
"I'll leave you to it Mom. I wouldn't want to miss the full effect of the outfits. I'll be downstairs. Waiting for you." I watched him go longingly, wanting to call him back, to have him hold me in my half-dressed state, to rip open my pantyhose and take me there and then up against my closet, or on the bed with all the clothes I'd brought home strewn around us as witnesses to my incestuous desire. I let him go, though. All in good time, I smiled to myself. All in good time. Our dance was getting ever closer.
I stripped down to just my panties and then stared at the boxes on the bed. I felt like a child on Christmas morning, uncertain which present to unwrap first. Eventually, I made my choice and opened the first box. Inside was a staple of costume parties, albeit more Halloween than spring - the witch's outfit. It was all black satin and lace, a tight bodice, long skirt but with an outrageously high slit, laced opera gloves and complete with a pointy black hat. I dressed as quickly as I could, while ensuring that I got everything in the right place. I used my own hold-up stockings and smiled seductively as I saw that the lace tops were exposed each time I moved by the high slit in the skirt. I was conscious, however, that I was wearing white panties underneath.
That didn't seem right. A witch wouldn't wear white panties, would she? I slipped them down my legs and tossed them onto the bed, the evidence of my arousal plain to see. I reached out towards my underwear drawer to find a pair of black panties and then stopped, a wicked smile spreading across my face. Why not go without? Only I'd know. The slit in the skirt wasn't quite long enough to reveal that I'd be bare underneath. I'd see the photos that Tom would take and which he'd put online for him and his friends to gawp over and to jerk off but only I'd know that under the satin skirt my bald little pussy would be naked and open. The thought was delicious, almost too naughty for words. I bit my lip and resolved to do it. My black panties remained undisturbed in my drawer, as I adjusted the black hat in the mirror and headed for the door.
"Wow Mom," Tom said as he saw me descending the stairs, immediately lifting his camera to capture my descent. "You look awesome." I grinned in response, feeling powerful and sexy as I sauntered down the stairs. My feet were squeezed into my patent leather work pumps with the three-inch heels. There was a nice amount of what I had recently learned was called toe-cleavage visible for Tom to admire. Admire them he did, kneeling down to snap away at the shoes as I smiled approvingly, indulging our shared little secret. I wondered for a moment if from that angle he'd be able to see sufficiently far up my skirt to catch sight of my pussy but I dismissed the thought and advanced on him until I was right above him and he brazenly took a photo of just my foot in its black shoe.
"It's Madam Nancy to you, Mr. Director," I purred. "Do you like the shoes?" I asked. He grinned up at me.
"They're great Madam Nancy but they are just your work shoes aren't they?" I nodded bashfully. "I'd go for something more dramatic on Friday, Mom, to match the rest of the outfit."
"I'd better take them off, then, if they don't work hadn't I?" I mused and then paused before looking down at my son. "Would you like to do the honors, angel?" His grin spread slowly across his dear face.
"Sure thing Madam Nancy," he said and he cupped one hand around the heel of my right shoe and gently freed my foot. His fingers ran delicately over the nylon that encased my foot as he placed it gently on the stair. He then did the same with the other foot. I was sure he must be able to see or scent my pussy from where he was, I was so damned wet by now.
"There," I said and flexed my toes. "Let's go to the living room angel," I said softly, feeling quite light headed. We walked silently to the living room and Tom began to photograph me again. He was more confident this time than before, verbally directing me and, sometimes, when he wasn't happy with the shot, posing me directly with his hands.
The pictures were a mix of classically respectable, ones which I could in good conscience show Bob for his approval, and more risqué ones that emphasized my sexuality and sensuality. In one I arched my back against the frame of the doorway, one leg raised so the split in my skirt feel open and revealed one stocking top. In another I was draped across the sofa, resting on one elbow, in a third I was looking straight down the camera pretending to cast a spell on my son, my hands raised, my gloves fingers pointing towards him, my face a mask of sensual triumph. I was in little doubt that we were both already under some sort of spell. We both fell about laughing after that last photo and I suggested I change into the next outfit. Tom agreed and I made my way back to my bedroom.
The next item took a little while for me to squeeze into but I was pleased with the effect as I checked myself out in my full-length mirror that had been seeing all sorts of strange things lately. There definitely wasn't room in the trunk of this outfit for panties.
"Holy shit," Tom said half laughing as he saw me as I entered the living room again. "It's Natasha Romanov!" He raised the camera again and I scratched the air with my leather-gloved fingers.
"The Black Widow herself," I grinned. "I may not be as hot or as young as Scarlett Johansson," I said advanced on him again, my hip swaying and I tossed my hair behind me. "But at least I'm a natural redhead." I knew that Scarlett Johansson was a long-held fantasy of his and had chosen the super-tight-fitting leather Black Widow costume with that in mind.
"I won't ask you to prove that," he said with an arched eyebrow. I grinned back.
"I don't think I could," I pouted suggestively. His eyebrow shot higher and the grin that spread across his face was positively devilish as the implications of what I had said sunk in.
"Mom, you're wicked you are." I shook my head.
"No angel, that was the last lady. Natasha's one of the goodies now," I giggled. "I've got that right, haven't I?" I said breaking character for a moment and he chuckled and confirmed that I had. He began clicking away with the camera, numerous photos focusing on my ass, where it felt and looked as if the leather was painted on, and on my boots, which had high block heels. I expressed my doubts about trying to save the world in heels this high and Tom laughed saying that all women in action movies always wore high heels and I just needed more practice.
Again, Tom was hands-on with posing me. I loved the feel of him controlling my movements and the feeling of being utterly in his power. The height of that sensation came when he put the camera down and approached me. He stood over me and smiled encouragingly. "You're doing great, Mom, really great," he reassured me and I felt a warm feeling inside me at his praise. "I want to make this next shot a little more...revealing." He said the word as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a son to say to his mother but he had a roguish smile on his face that would brook no gainsaying of what he asked.
"W...what have you in mind Tommy?" I asked, a slight stammer in my voice. He leaned in, close to my ear and, for a moment I was sure he was smelling my hair, my essence, my arousal. Then I felt his hand at the zipper of my cat suit. The shock caught me off guard but I was frozen to the spot, quivering with anticipation on the inside. I let him lower the zip to expose my cleavage. Just before it became indecent and just as I was raising my hand to stop him, he halted and my hand touched his, resting on it for a moment as we stared into each other's eyes.
"I think that's interesting enough don't you Mom?" He said, a playful smile on his lips. I just nodded, feeling weak at the knees. That sensation intensified as I felt him blow on the exposed flesh of my breasts. I looked down and then back at him. "There was a stray hair Mom," he said by way of explanation, daring me to gainsay him. I didn't - couldn't. I broke eye contact first and he stepped back and continued to shoot me.
I was lost in the mood for a while and it was only gradually that it dawned on me that Tom was shooting with only one hand on the camera. The other was, as discreetly as possible, covering his crotch. He was wearing his school sweatpants and it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to hide his growing bulge. I didn't want him to be embarrassed by what he was feeling. It thrilled me that I was exciting him and I wanted him to be comfortable knowing that I knew. I reached out slowly, looking deep into his green eyes and my hand closed over his. Gently, lovingly, never breaking eye contact I moved it back to the camera.
"I think you'll need two hands to hold the camera steady angel and to get the best picture. We don't want me to come out all fuzzy, do we?" I said softly. Tom smiled shyly this time and shook his head.
"No Mom," he replied. He understood, I could tell, and he no longer took pains to hide his arousal from me. I tried not to be too obvious in checking it out but, given that he had free rein to ogle me, I didn't feel too bad about sneaking the odd admiring glance at the tent in my son's pants. From what I could see the head was large and there was a distinct darker patch on the grey material around where the tent was pitching.
We both needed a cool down and I grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and was about to head up the stairs to change into my final outfit when Tom's phone went off. I felt a stab of annoyance when Katie's picture appeared on the screen. I hoped she wasn't about to ruin my evening.
"Sorry Mom, I'd better answer this. She gets so possessive when I don't answer."
"Even when you're with me?" I asked innocently. He shrugged as if to say, 'what can you do?'.
It's always hard to follow one-sided conversations but I was able to glean that something had gone wrong with Katie's car and she had called Tom to ask about it. He asked various questions about what she'd checked with the car, seemingly the answer was nothing at all. Her first instinct had been to call him to sort it out. A part of me wondered whether there was anything wrong at all and she just wanted to ruin our night together. She wasn't that petty was she? Eventually I heard Tom say.
"Look Katie, it's just the check engine light. You're home now, so you can take it to the garage tomorrow...Alright I can take it to the garage tomorrow but I'm not coming over tonight. Why not? Because I'm busy. Yes, I told you, with my Mom. No, I can't just blow her off Katie," The bitch, I thought.
"What's wrong?" I mouthed and he shrugged.
"Something to do with the car," he mouthed back. "She's no clue." I grinned.
"No change there," I whispered. "I thought maybe she'd broken a heel or something. Oh, no, that can't be it!" I said with a sly grin. That was a bit below the belt I knew. Tom grinned.
"Stop it Mom, you're too bad, you know," he mouthed and then said out loud. "No it's just Mom. She wants to know what's up. Of course it's her. Jeez Katie, just trust me ok? Yes, alright here she is," he said and placed his hand over the receiver. "She wants to talk to you Mom, I told you she's getting paranoid."
I rolled my eyes pointedly but took the phone and but on a faux pleasant voice. "Hi Katie, yes it's me. I'm sorry I've got him tied up here. When I'm finished with him, I'll send him right over to you. I know, I know, cars are tricky things aren't they? Don't worry, I'll send my boy over to you later and he'll sort everything out for you but sometimes family just has to come first, you understand that I'm sure dear," I said in a tone of mild rebuke that scolded her selfish summoning of my son. "I knew you would. Ok bye dear, bye." I passed the phone back to Tom who shrugged apologetically.
"I'm sorry she almost ruined our evening Mom," he said. I just smiled and touched his cheek.
"It'll take more than an inconsiderate and helpless girlfriend to ruin this time for me angel," I said lightly, inwardly delighted that Tom had refused to jump to her beck and call. "Now, Mommy is boiling in this cat suit, so it's time to change for the piece de resistance."
The leather cat suit was indeed hot and I needed a quick wipe down before dressing again. My pussy, likewise, was raging like a furnace and I closed my eyes for a moment as I chugged back the ice-cold soda, imagining his beautiful, big cock sliding down my throat. It looked so very inviting. God I was becoming such a slut for him but I reveled in that tender moment when, as a mother and a woman, I had let him know that I wanted him to feel confident around me at all times and in whatever state.
The final outfit was, I admit, a bit bitchy but when I saw it, it was so beautiful I knew I had to show Tom. This was the one outfit, the most daring of the lot, that I was prepared to let Tom show all of me in for the internet so, I grabbed the black mask with the handle as I left them room. I had also replaced my ivory panties for this needed them if I were to maintain even a semblance of propriety.
My feet padded down the stairs in the flimsy satin shoes and then I tiptoed into the room in fifth position en-pointe, recalling what I could remember of my own ballet classes over thirty years before. I might not have the same technique as Katie but I knew I looked awesome as the White Swan and I could at least still do this which she, with her weak ankle, couldn't.
Tom's eyes widened as he took in my costume. Ballet shoes with the satin straps around my bare ankles. The costume itself was the most beautiful boned, satin white corset with a single decorated strap over the right shoulder and the bodice itself detailed with satin bows, rhinestones and lace. The skirt was lace and netting shaped like the spreading wings of the swan itself and ended at mid-thigh with plenty exposed higher up. "I can't hold this position for ever, so you'd better starting shooting Tommy," I whispered in a slightly strained voice which seemed to snap him out of his reverie and his raised the camera again.
"My God, Mom," he said in awe. "You're so damned beautiful."
"Thank you baby," I said sincerely, then grinned. "Still pretty supple for 46, eh?" I teased.
"I'll say!" Tom said unguardedly and then blushed a little.
"Let me prove it," I said full of confidence now. I took a couple of deep breaths and slowly slid down into the splits, or at least as close as I could still get given my age and lack of practice. Tom lapped that up and I even let him take a photo of it with my mask. I knew *that* would cause a stir in his community. Whenever I went into the en-pointe position, Tom would focus on my feet and my ankles, which he seemed to admire very much.
We were immersed in the moment and lost track of the time. I was sure that Tom would soon run out of space on his camera, the number of photos he was taking of me. It amused me to think what Katie would make of it, if she could see the evidence of what Tom had been 'too busy helping me with' to help with her dumb check engine light.
This was so perfect, better than I had imagined. Tom was so skillful, so confident and composed and he had chosen me over her. I wanted to reward him. I was ready. This was it. Tom was close to me now, behind me, changing my position once more. I turned to him, my heart in my mouth and looked into his eyes. I slipped into his embrace. I held him close for a moment, my eyes closed, breathing in his scent.
"So, which costume are you going to wear Mom?" He asked, his voice trying not to betray that we were both aware of his unsatisfied erection between us. I smiled enigmatically then chuckled, still not breaking the hug and pressing ever so slightly against it. It was so hard and so warm, I could feel it almost glowing against my leg like a piece of metal just pulled from the furnace.
"The witch one, of course," I said. "It's the only one that's respectable in polite society. The others, Natasha and the Swan," I said softly, looking into his eyes. "They were just for you my darling boy. I hope you've enjoyed them as much as I did." I pulled back a tiny bit and glanced down at his bulge. I giggled and leant in again, my plush lips just brushing his earlobe. "No need to answer that. You might want to take care of that before your father gets home," I whispered in a hushed tone that suggested someone else might be listening, even though we were still utterly alone.
"Thank you angel, this has been amazing," I breathed in his ear. "I only wish it didn't have to end." I pressed against him just a little firmer this time. My words hung in the air for a moment before he answered. His tone was steady but I could hear his heart hammering in his chest.
"It doesn't have to end, Mom...if we don't want it to," he said in what was part statement, part question. I looked into those sea green eyes of his, feeling my heart melt. This was it. He was going to kiss me. I closed my eyes ready for it. Then I heard the sound of my husband's car pulling into the driveway.
We sprung away from each other in shock and fear then giggled in relief that he hadn't arrived five minutes later for God knows where we'd have been then. "Make sure you put the camera away angel. I'm going upstairs to go for a pee and get changed. Tell your Dad, he's not to come upstairs as I don't want to ruin the surprise. He doesn't need to know about the other costumes, remember?" I smiled conspiratorially and then made a dash for the stairs before I heard Bob's key turning in the latch.
I made my way up the stairs, my lust boiling inside me, having to hold the handrail to stay steady on my feet. My last, most daring act was yet to come. Instead of going to my own bathroom, I went first to Tom's. I sat down on the toilet and relieved myself, a good way I've always found of releasing sexual tension. I looked down between my feet at my ivory panties and saw the gusset was a filthy, creamy mess of incestuous lust. I slipped them off and tossed them to land at the foot of the laundry basket in the corner of the room. Lying there, they could have mistakenly fallen down from being carelessly placed in the basket. I rather doubted if Tom would think that, though. Not after tonight.
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