American Mom Ch. 13-15

Thoughts whirled in her head. She had been so preoccupied with her own reactions that she had overlooked how cowardly she had been. She was the adult. She was the one who had to be mature and make things right.

"How confusing is this for Steve?" she wondered. "He's confident enough and interested in sex enough to want to watch me through the bedroom door; not to mention taking pictures of me doing all kinds of stuff." She smiled, "and yet he seemed to lack confidence this afternoon." She paused briefly. "I guess I had better go to Steve right now. The longer I wait the more damage it could cause." She said as she stood up. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and walked out of her bedroom.

Meanwhile, in his own room Steve had been lying in bed, trying to read. For the last hour, he had been running over the awful scene in his mind, desperately attempting to guess what his mother's expression and slamming of the door had meant.

"Was she angry?" he thought out loud. "That would be all right, really. Much better than disgusted, which is how she really looked." He sighed in frustration, realizing he had just read the same paragraph four times over and still had no idea what it said.

"She'll be mad as hell if she ever finds out about the photos from last night."

With that thought he quickly grabbed his cell phone and attached it to his computer. "I need to get these off here quickly." He decided. A few keyboard strokes later and he had downloaded all the photos of his mother into a new file "WOWMOM". He had just deleted the last of the duplicate images from his cell phone and climbed back in bed when he heard a soft knock at the door.

"Steve?" It was his mother's soft voice outside. Steve looked around to make sure there was nothing embarrassing lying about and quickly clicked off the file view on his computer. "Uh, yeah, Mom?" "Can I come in?" His heart pounding, he made sure the covers were over his lower body, "Sure mom, come on in."

The door opened and Francine came and stood inside the door frame, the light from the hallway outlining her form. His heart, which had been racing anyway, seemed to stop short in an instant when he realized she was wearing her satin pink nightgown again.

Standing in the doorway in her short, low cut gown, he realized that she was in fact hotter than any girl he knew in high school. Which was crazy, because how could she be when she was like twice his age? Still, he couldn't help but stare at her busty form, the sweet curve of her hips, her legs.

With horror, he realized that he was getting a hard-on again, just looking at her. 'Oh, crap,' he thought, 'just what I need. I don't need her to get any further disgusted by me.'

He couldn't make out her expression because of the backlighting, so he looked away, desperately trying to think of anything else.

Francine gazed at her son, sitting up against the headboard, the covers around his waist. His trim torso appeared chiseled as the light from the hallway fell across him. Her eyes were drawn down, inexorably towards his groin, but that area lay in secret, concealed by his blanket.

She pulled herself together and looked up at him just as he glanced away in obvious embarrassment. Her heart tore at the sight of his lack of confidence. "Steve, honey," she ventured softly. "We need to talk."

'She doesn't sound angry or disgusted.' Steve thought. Still he felt unsure how much trouble he was in.

"About what happened earlier; and the other night in the hallway." she went on, uncertain in her own right.

"I'm sorry, Mom," her son whispered. And with that, her paralysis was broken and she walked over to the bed to sit down next to him.

"Oh, Steve," she said with compassion, "You've got nothing to feel bad about. It's me who should be sorry, not you."

Steve looked up at that. Now basked in the light from the hall, he could see her expression, the lack of anger in her eyes. "So, you're not...like mad at me...or something?" He asked meekly.

"Oh, Honey. No." she insisted, laying her hand on his leg. His warmth jolted her through the thin linens.

"What you were doing today; what you were choosing to do in the privacy of your own room is your business and yours alone. I was the one in the wrong place the other night. I was only trying to spice things up with your dad." She giggled.

"But I thought from the way you reacted that maybe you were..." his voice trailed off.

"What, Steve?" As she urged him to go on, she leaned in slightly, and he found himself looking down the neckline of her gown, which had fallen away from her chest. The shadows of the top of her breasts and the deep valley between them were suddenly fascinating. In fact, the entire shape of her breasts against the silky material was entrancing. The two soft mounds were attractively encased by her top, and every curve was neatly delineated.

"Disgusted with me." he whispered, dragging his eyes away from her chest.

"Oh, sweetie," she sighed, rubbing his leg subconsciously with her hand.

"I thought you knew that I have no problem with you, uh, touching yourself. Everybody does it, didn't you know?"

There was a pause, during which Francine found herself suddenly aware how high up his leg her hand had ventured. She looked at it in wonder, as if to ask how she could have found herself with her hand mere inches away from her son's groin. The proximity caused yet another surge of warmth in her own sex, akin to the one she had experienced the other night. 'Is he wearing anything under those covers?' She thought.

She forced herself to pull back, but it seemed like her hand was unwilling even as it slid back down Steve's leg. In fact, she was sliding it back up again, disguising it as a gentle soothing caress.

'I think he might be nude.' The thought made her feel warm all over.

Steve had felt her hand on his leg distantly as he struggled to formulate the question that was burning in his mind. Finally, he jerked his head up to look at her again. She seemed as confused as he did, which was a comfort to him. His eyes fell once again to her large breasts, but this time the smooth contours were interrupted by the outlines of her hard nipples, suddenly unconcealed by her gown. The unexpected sight sent confusion through his mind, and his cock twitched beneath the sheets.

He looked up once again to find his mother looking directly into his eyes. "Yes, Mom," he screwed up his courage to say, "I was worried that you might find my...you know...activity disgusting. I know everybody jerks off, but..." He was sorry he had used the coarse expression, because her eyes widened.

"But nothing, mister." she jumped in. "You are right, everyone does it.

Francine found herself transfixed by her son's intense gaze. She shivered, suddenly aware of how little she was wearing; how little Steve was wearing. She found herself excited at the nearness, the intimacy she had suddenly discovered with her son. She shifted on the bed, rubbing her thighs together to try and take care of an itch between her legs demanding to be satisfied.

"Well, I'll admit, Steve that it was a shock to see that so out of the blue." She trailed off, at a loss for a word that would describe the image without seeming condemning. "But we're all adults here in the house now. We should all be okay with seeing each other acting and dressing like adults. The human body is not a bad thing"

She looked down at her own attire. "Take me wearing this outfit for instance. I know it is a bit risqué for some families. I know some of your friends Mom's would not ever want to be seen wearing something like this."

Steve nodded his head in agreement. "And my friends would not want to see their out of shape mother's wearing something like that." They both laughed.

"But I assume it is ok for me to wear it around you. When I did the other night, it didn't seem to bother you, right?" she smiled.

"Uh, No problem mom. I say wear whatever you want." He smiled

"And we should all be proud of each other's physical beauty."

'What the hell is she blabbering about?' Steve wondered, as he noticed his mother now sitting up straighter, her chest thrust forward in an exaggerated manner.

"I mean, look at this." She said holding up her cell phone and pressing away at the screen.

'Where the hell did she have that phone hidden?' Steve wondered as she smiled and turned the screen towards him.

"I even sent your father a picture the other night of me wearing this very outfit. See." She said smiling as she held her phone screen still as she flashed her pink gown selfie for his enjoyment.

"And here I am wearing it in front of you tonight, without any shame. You are nearly a grown man now Steve. Yet some old biddies I know would be terrified to wear this in front of their son's. It's not even see through or anything like that, is it for goodness sake."

Steve swallowed deeply, knowing that his mother had accidentally sent him that same photo the other night, and that he had jacked off several times to the image.

"I mean, you wouldn't be embarrassed if I sent a photo while wearing this gown to you, would you? Steve looked at his mother wide eyed.

"I...uhm...no." He chocked.

"Well of course you wouldn't be." She said. "Here; just to prove a point." she happily fumbled with her screen again.

Shockingly, Steve heard the tone from his hone of an incoming message. The screen flashed the name Mom. He looked at his mom in shock as she nonchalantly continued. "There; now you have that same image on your phone. No big deal, right?"

"Uh right..." he mumbled in astonishment.

"You can even show that one to your friends if you want. It's really not that revealing." She said, ignoring the fact that a tiny puff of her pubic hair was showing in the photo.

"All right!" Steve said a bit over zealously, smiling mightily as he tried not to gawk at his phone. "Thanks mom."

"Well I like your enthusiasm." She laughed. "Here...just for good measure. Here's one just for you; no showing your friends this one."

Steve anxiously listened for the signal from his phone. Impatiently waiting, he was shaken from his revere by his mom's next question just as his phone sounded the arrival of another text.

"What kind of pictures do you like to look at Steve?" She quizzed, knowing full well he had been looking at photos of her.

"WHAT?" he cried out in near terror, forgetting his newest text message from his Mom as his heart suddenly beating ninety miles an hour.

"You heard me Steve; what type of photos of women do you like to look at?"

"Awww, Mom," Steve said. "You know; I just look at things...women." He announced, trying to divert her questioning before she found out he was jacking to hardcore pictures of her.

"So pictures of women turn you on?" Steve couldn't believe she had just asked that dumb question.

"Y-yeah, I guess so," he stammered.

Francine looked at him excitedly. "I want to see them." she finally said as he stared at her.

"WHAT!" his voice trailed off suddenly.

"So I can understand," she went on impatiently. "I want to see the pictures you were looking at earlier when I came into your room."

Unsure what to do, or how to diffuse the situation, he pulled the covers down so he could get out of the bed "Okkkay." he said with trepidation, his mind whirling over how this was all going to work out.

Francine's mind was also in turmoil. She had no idea where she was going with this line of questions. It had surprised even her when she had blurted out the suggestion. She was trying to work through this problem with her son, but was becoming quite excited that he was going to show her the nude photos he had taken of her.

As Steve pulled down the covers, she found herself looking down at his lap to see if he was excited, but there was no evidence of arousal in his white briefs. She stood up with him.

For a second, there was that awkward dance where two people both try to get out of the way in the same direction as each other. The beautiful, scantily clad mother and teenaged boy first moved left, and then right before they both giggled. The tension seemed to ease, and Steve took his mother by the shoulders and moved her to the left so that he could slip past her to the computer. Francine loved the feel of his hands on her bare skin, and the self-confidence with which he moved her rekindled that warm feeling within her.

Steve settled himself in front of the computer, trying desperately to decide what he was going to show his mother, because he sure wasn't going to show her the pictures from her doorway that he was really looking at when she had barged in.

He opened his browser and his fingers typed out a website automatically. It was one of his favorites because he could see thumbnails of gorgeous women in and out of skimpy bathing suits for free. Sure, you could pay to get inside and see what would surely be much more outrageous pictures, but who needed that when so much was available without paying?

Francine leaned over the back of the chair, her hands excitedly kneading on her son's shoulders. "So you were looking at pictures online?" she asked, puzzled.

Despite her confusion she couldn't help but gasp slightly as the website opened on the monitor in front of her. The sexy little intake of breath was right next to Steve's ear, and he was thrilled at the sound. He moved the mouse down to a picture of a mid-thirties redhead with big tits like his mother's "I think this was the one I was looking at when you... uh, came in before," he said.

Francine stood perplexed, knowing full well that he had been looking at a photo from his phone of her assaulting her pussy with a dildo.

"Are you sure honey?" she quizzed. "Yes; this is right," he murmured. She was a little lost in the moment, her hands on her son's thin, but surprisingly firm frame. She unconsciously rubbed his shoulders with her eyes locked on the screen as Steve clicked on the thumbnail. Another set of thumbs opened up, showing four sample sets of pictures featuring the woman in different suits. Her name, Francine noted, was Misti.

"Nice name," Francine giggled, nervously.

"Yeah, Mom," Steve replied, his voice amused as well. "I think they probably all use fake names."

"Well, I know I would use a stage name if I ever posted any naked pictures of myself online." his mother said.

A sudden image arose in Steve's mind: his mother in a ludicrously tiny bikini, smiling at him like all of the women on the website. His cock twitched in his white briefs and steadily began to harden.

"Oh you would?" He inquired. "What would your name be?"

"I don't know silly." She replied with a laugh. "I never thought about it before. How about 'Blondie'? Or maybe Steve's Hot Mom?" He shifted in the chair, suddenly uncomfortable.

"I don't know about that second one."

"What? If I posed nude on the internet you would be embarrassed for everyone to know I was your mom?" She remarked with a smile. "I think some of your friends might actually want to see me nude." She laughed. He glanced surreptitiously up at his mother's face, but she was already looking at the monitor, not at him.

Gazing at the monitor, as if this were all totally natural, Francine continued here teasing speech. "To tell the truth I always thought I would look pretty hot as an adult model, even if I do have to say so myself. I bet those photos I just sent you would have been much better if a real pro was working the camera instead of me taking selfies. Don't you think so?" She asked, turning to see her son shaking his head quietly in agreement.

"I guess, but I only saw the one photo Mom."

"You'll have plenty of time later tonight to look at the other one. I took them both, so they are both the same, fuzzy quality." She giggled.

"I don't know why Steve, but I really like to pose for cameras; I always have." She said, looking downward.

Sensing his mother was becoming a little down Steve jumped right in. "You really could be a model Mom. You're more beautiful than the girls my age."

"Oh Steve!" she perked up immediately, enjoying his compliment. "I think the days are long gone for me to be a fashion model."

"Well, sure mom, not one of those sickly looking rail thin high fashion model." He replied with conviction as she looked into his eyes for reassurance. "But I bet there are tons of guys that would like to see you modeling bathing suits, and..." his voice trailed off a little from lack of confidence.

"And what Steve?" she asked sweetly, reaching over and grasping his hand for support.

"And...I bet there are there are a lot of guys that would like to see you modeling negligees. If I'm being an adult like you said earlier, I've got to tell you that you are REALLY built for that."

Francine beamed as if she had just been told she was the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth. "That is so mature and kind of you Steve." She glowed. "If you really think that way...I was thinking; maybe if you keep your grades up we could work out a deal to reward you AND me."

Steve looked at his mother with great interest as she continued.

"Maybe you could put all that great photography club experience to work and capture me in all my beauty now before I turn into an elderly sixty year old grandma." She smiled. "That is if you think that would be a reward for you?" She teased with a naughty smile and laugh.

"That sounds like an AWESOME reward! Deal!" Steve smiled eagerly, accepting her offer before it could be retracted.

"Okay then young man; back to the subject at hand. Which series were you using...er, I mean looking at?"

The question slipped out of her mouth, without thought, unprepared, as so much seemed to be tonight. The acknowledgement of the purpose of these pictures hung in the air.

"Uh, this one?" He clicked on the thumb showing 'Misti' in her green bikini. He loved this set for so many reasons. First, the top was sheer, and the woman's tits were so big. Also, the g-string was pathetically tiny.

Trying to be reassuring, Francine leaned into her son's back, slipping her arm around his neck and giving him a warm hug. Steve felt his head being pulled back into his mother's chest, and then the feeling of her big soft breast against the back of his head.

'Oh, crap!' he thought, as his cock, now at full attention, throbbed at the feel of that sweet yielding flesh against him. He dropped his left hand into his lap to try and cover his now massive erection. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure his mother would be able to hear it. Glancing quickly down, he realized that his lap was under his desk and completely in the dark. There was no way she would be able to tell that he had a boner.

Aware of her effect on her son, Francine watched with her breath held as the pictures unfurled across the screen. She was conscious of the fact that her nipple, still hard, was pressed into the side of her son's head. She leaned slightly forward again as Steve clicked on the first thumb. The mature redhead on the monitor was poolside, wearing the bikini the way the manufacturer intended.

Steve turned slightly, and felt his mother's nipple drag across his cheek. Instinctively, as though he were burned, he jerked away, staring at the breast inches away from him.

Looking down at him, Francine saw how close she was standing. Gathering herself, she pulled back slightly; concerned she would frighten her son again. She knew she had to give him a little more encouragement that the current situation was Okay. Slipping her hand down her son's chest, she let it come to rest on his left pectoral. Mother and son stared at the picture on the monitor together.

"Steve, I don't think this was the model I saw earlier today." Francine breathed.