It's hot as hell – I'm just wearing shorts, and the sweat is running off me. I'm thinking about an ice-cold beer – and you.
I've been thinking about you all day. It started with a dream I had last night, about when we kissed goodbye at the airport. In the dream I was kissing you again, and the feel of your lips on mine was wonderful. It was like that at the airport – I tasted your lipstick, and holding you in my arms made me feel – well, let's say it produced quite a reaction!
In fact, I often think about you, in all sorts of ways, the way you look, remembering some of our times together, and wishing I was with you again. It won't be too long before my next leave, but at the moment it seems like light-years away, and I miss you badly.
Perhaps I shouldn't write to you like this, Mum, talking about kissing you and all that, but I've already had a couple of those beers, and perhaps I've got carried away.
Sorry if I've embarrassed you, Mum – just tell me to stop, and I'll try to behave myself in future!
All my love
Your letter came as a complete surprise, but let me say at once that it didn't embarrass me!
Quite the contrary – you thinking about kissing me was, well, exciting. I too remember our goodbye kiss, and yes, I noticed your 'reaction' – I felt it pressing against my tummy – it was a very thin dress I was wearing, with not much under it ...!
I've just put on extra lipstick, and this is my lips pressed against the paper – I hope you can taste it!
It would be wonderful if you were holding me in your arms, and 'reacting' appropriately!
Perhaps it's my turn to hope that I'm not embarrassing you, darling, but I'm a woman, and you're a VERY attractive man!
Tell me all the other things you think of involving
Your VERY loving mother
I'm so glad you weren't angry with me, and thank you, thank you, for the paper kiss. I held it to my lips, knowing that yours had touched it, and tasted that lovely lipstick of yours – even though I was getting it second-hand, it produced a strong reaction!!!
You wanted me to tell you what else I'm thinking, so here goes!
As I write, I'm looking at that photo of us taken on holiday, where we're wearing swimming things with our arms round each other's waists.
I loved the feel of your warm body against me, and I'm glancing down at your glorious cleavage. That swimsuit of yours was very revealing!
And I remember the other time we kissed properly, at Christmas under the mistletoe. It seemed to go on for a long time, but not long enough for me! You were wearing a red dress, quite short, low-cut and loose at the top, with a lacy red half-bra, and that displayed a lot of cleavage – and more - too.
Tell me what you're wearing now, Mum – I'd like to visualise you when you're writing to me.
Hope I haven't gone too far in talking about your body, but you did ask me to tell you what I'm thinking about!
I love you
PS I think a lot about your legs, too!
Your letter was wonderful! It made me feel funny – in the NICEST possible way, if you know what I mean! It's lovely to know that you think about my body and legs – tell me more, you know I'm very vain!
It's my turn to think I might go a bit too far this time. I had a glass of wine, thinking about what I was going to write to you, and then another in the bath while I re-read your letter. It was lovely reading a letter from you with nothing on, knowing that you'd touched and held it ...
You want to know what I'm wearing. When I got out of the bath and dried myself, I put on that old cotton dressing gown of mine, and that's all I'm wearing now. It's very loosely knotted, and I've crossed my legs and it's fallen away, baring my thighs completely. As for 'cleavage', the dressing gown is gaping apart above my waist, and looking down at myself I can see my navel, and practically everything else.
I'm sitting at my dressing table, and I've just looked at my reflection, and pulled my dressing gown wide open and half off my shoulders, baring my breasts totally, wishing you could see them. My nipples got stiff just thinking about it ... does that shock you, dearest?
You don't have to tell me you like looking at my breasts – I've caught you peeking often enough!
Yes, I remember that photo, and when it was taken – I liked pressing against you, too! And the Christmas kiss – if I'd had a couple more glasses of wine, things might have got interesting! As it was, I was tempted to push my tongue in your mouth ... I will next time!
I know I shouldn't say this, but if you'd said anything, or put your hand down (or up) my dress, you could have had me right there, on the floor if you'd wanted! Are you shocked?
I often wished that you'd take the lead and do something, but you never did, and I was afraid to make the first move in case it upset you, but now you've done it by writing to me like that, saying you want to kiss me and talking about my body.
Speaking of memories, let me tell you something you've certainly forgotten, and nobody else in the world knows.
You always loved my breasts, even when you were little. I loved feeding you, it gave me that 'funny' feeling I mentioned. In fact, I didn't wean you until you were about four, I loved it so much. I – we – liked it best when we had nothing on. Your eyes would light up when I undressed you, and you watched me take my clothes off, and then you sat on my lap and took my breast in both hands and started sucking me. You always got an erection! And I used to play with it gently while you sucked me. Afterwards, we'd take a nap together in bed, still with nothing on, and your naked body felt wonderful. Once, though, we were playing, and I was tickling you, and somehow you slid between my legs. As usual you had an erection, and – I put your stiff little dickie in me for a moment, although you didn't seem to notice!
There! That's my confession! Are you shocked again, my darling? I am, a little, when I think about it, although I know I'd do it again!
Your breathless, slightly drunk, funny-feeling, nearly naked
I can't tell you how much your letter thrilled me!
I always loved that dressing gown – it's so thin that when the light is behind you your body is silhouetted perfectly, and I could see your nipples poking at the material. But to think of you sitting like that, with your legs completely uncovered, and your breasts bared nearly drove me insane!
I feel that now we can tell each other everything, so I confess I read your letter lying on my bed naked, and I masturbated like mad! It wasn't the first time, of course – I've masturbated thinking about you hundreds of times. Anything would set me off – a quick glimpse of your bare thighs, or snatching a quick look at your breasts down your dress, or touching you 'accidentally' whenever I got the chance, and of course our occasional kisses. There were other times, too, thinking about you with men, and imagining what they were doing to you. At first I used to be angry and jealous when you went out with men, but in a way it was exciting too, and as I got older I accepted that you liked men, and sex, but I realised that it didn't mean anything much to you other than sex, and that you still loved me. That meant that I could think about them doing you without being jealous, except that I wished it was me, and I often wished that I could watch.
I've just masturbated again, imagining the time you told me about when we were naked in bed together, with me inside you, even if I didn't realise what was happening at the time. I'd certainly know about it now, and so would you, my darling! God, just thinking about it ...
It's funny, you wanted me to make the first move, and I was afraid that you'd be angry if I did anything – we've wasted a lot time, but perhaps we can make up for it???
It's funny too, that you wished I could see you the way you were in front of the mirror – I've often wanted to show myself to you. I loved it when you used to come in and chat to me when I was in the bath when I was a kid – it was nice being naked, and seeing you look at me.
I'm naked now, and I'd love you to see me, and especially my erection!
I'm going to do something about it again, thinking of you, as always
Your letter leaves me speechless!
I saw the postman coming, and opened the door before he could pop it through the slot, and took it from him. All I had on was that dressing gown, and I remembered what you said about seeing my body through it when the light was behind me, and the sunlight was streaming through the hall window onto me from behind, and I gave him a good look!
My hands were trembling when I saw there was a letter from you. I opened it still standing on the doorstep, giving anyone passing by a good look, too, and started to read it.
But when I came to the bit about you masturbating naked on the bed, I came in and closed the door – my legs were shaking, and I had to lean against the wall, and then I put my hand between my legs as I read. Before I got very far, I was soaking wet – it was a good job I wasn't wearing any knickers, or I'd have had to change them – and then again, as I read on!
Incidentally, I'm writing this at my dressing table again, but this time I'm completely naked, and sitting on a towel – I'm still dripping! Sorry if the writing is a bit wobbly, but I'm not holding the paper steady – my free hand is fondling my breasts, or between my legs. God, I'm wet! My fingers are soaked – I've licked them, because I like tasting myself, but now they're wet again – guess what I've just smeared across the paper!!!
Can you taste me? I'd love you to drink me ... do you like oral sex, by the way?
I don't think I told you – I sometimes used to kiss your dickie, and lick it, and take it in my mouth – I'd love to have it in my mouth now, as well as you know where. I read somewhere that male snakes have two penises – I wish you were a snake, darling, and then I could have the two of them in me, in a variety of orifices ...
Yes, of course I loved seeing you naked – why else do you think I used to come in and perch on the side of the bath? You always got an erection, and I loved that. But I spoke to a man I slept with about it, and he said that boys always got erections, and I was disappointed, because I thought – hoped - it was for me.
I used to leave the door open when I was having a bath, hoping you'd come in and talk to me (and look at me!) but you never did – sometimes I'd wait until the water was nearly cold, waiting just in case ...
About men – we seem to have often been thinking the same things, because I often used to imagine you watching me having sex, although it made me feel guilty. But it gave me a lovely feeling, and I dreamt that after the man had had me, you would do me ... that made me feel even more guilty!
Back to having your dick in my mouth – I can't stop imagining kneeling between you legs, sucking you, and making you come, drinking you dry ... I'd love to taste your semen. Darling, the next time you masturbate, will you come on the letter you write to me? I hope it doesn't sound kinky, but the thought of you spurting semen on the paper for me drives me crazy!
Back to men. I often used to look in on you after I'd had sex, seeing at you sleeping. I wanted more than anything to take my clothes off and get into bed with you, holding you close, the only one I loved ... But I knew it wouldn't stop there, because I was still aroused, and I wanted you desperately. Once, the bedclothes were half off you, and I saw that you were holding your dick. Were you thinking about me having sex, I wondered? Just the idea made me go and finger myself ... which I'm still doing, darling.
What else would you like me to tell you? I want to give myself to you completely, my body, my innermost secrets, anything and everything.
I think of you coming home every day – and every night. I'll get plenty of everything in, so that we won't have to go out, and I'll be naked for you the whole time, and you can do anything and everything you want to
The mother who's madly in love with you, darling
PS These marks are made by putting lipstick on my nipples, and pressing them to the paper – I just wish you could lick it off in person!
What can I say? Your letter drove me mad, and all I can think about is you ... I have no words to describe my feelings.
I had another dream about you last night – you had my cock between your breasts, and you were smiling up at me as you kneaded them around me, and I – fucked them, until I started to come, and you lowered your head and I shot my semen into your mouth ...
My semen. I masturbated on the paper as you asked, but then I couldn't write on it, so I'm enclosing it with this. And now I'm going to masturbate over this as well.
Tasting your lipstick again, and knowing it came from your nipples, was indescribable!
My mind is full of you, seeing your face, your body ...
I used to peek at you in the bath – your back was towards the door, and you couldn't see me. But once I glimpsed you getting out, your breasts swinging, and I saw the heavy bush between your thighs, water dripping from it. Oh, how I wish I'd had the courage to go in and see you properly!
Yes, I like using my mouth, as you'll find out, my darling mother.
Even though I see you in my imagination, I wish I had a picture of you – naked, I mean. You used to have some photos of you naked in your dressing table drawer, and I used to masturbate looking at them whenever you were out, but one day they weren't there any more.
I'm naked, and my cock is throbbing, and I'm just about ready to come, so I hope you'll still be able to read this letter, what there is of it.
More soon (more semen, too!)
Oh, my darling, my son, my lover!
Yes, I tasted your semen, and it was wonderful! I rubbed your letter over my body, especially my breasts, and I pushed the other blank sheet into my vagina, wishing that it was your cock that had put it there!
Now, I treasure it, because it has both our stuff on it! I kiss it constantly ...
Dearest, I threw those photos away in case you found them and were shocked – I didn't know you'd already seen them.
But, I know a man who has a Polaroid camera – he's already taken pictures of me for his own use, but I could ask him to take some more for me if you like.
The only thing is, I'd probably have to let him do me – would you mind?
I only wish you could see me naked yourself – but it won't be too long, will it, darling?
I'm kissing your semen again, and again.
Your darling, your lover, your mother
Mum, my beautiful angel
A quick note about the photos.
No, of course I don't mind you having sex with him – I just wish I could watch, as we've discussed before. But will you please tell me what happens – every detail? EVERY detail!!!
More semen for you, in case you've used up the last lot.
Well, here are the pictures! I hope you like them. You'll see that I'd shaved off that bush you liked – sometimes I like it, other times it's nice being naked down there. I'll let it grow if you want me to – we'll try both ways when you come home!
I like the ones on the couch, where I'm touching myself (and thinking of you!), and the Sharon Stone pose from Basic Instincts, with my ankle crossed over my other knee giving you a perfect view of what's waiting for you! Also where I'm offering you my breasts, cupping them in my hands. Clive (he's the photographer) told me to play with my nipples to make them stiff, but they didn't need much coaxing! And he took the ones featuring my bottom – he asked me if you liked doing me up my backside, but I said we hadn't talked about it. Would you like to, darling? I like it, with the right man and the right cock – you're certainly the right man, and I'd love your dick up my bottom! And I'd brought along my dildo, and I asked him to take a picture of me using it for you ...
Anyway, there are quite a few in all sorts of poses, and I hope they do all sorts of things for you – they did me, thinking about you looking at them!
This looks like being a long letter – you wanted me to tell you everything that happened, so here goes.
I met Clive with some friends some time ago – he's quite thin, with receding hair, but a lovely penis! He's also got a good sense of humour, and I like him, but I DON'T love him – there's never been anything on an emotional level between us, just friendship and sex, in case you're worried.
Anyway, he asked me if I'd ever posed nude, and I said yes, and that I'd liked it, and he asked me if he could photograph me like that, and I said yes again. He's got a studio set-up in one room of his flat, and I went there the next day. There's a lot of flash equipment, and his camera, I think it's a Bronica, has a Polaroid back.
I undressed for him, and we spent a couple of hours taking pictures – I loved him looking at my body, and he touched me a lot, posing me, and then, well, we had sex on the couch. It was very good, and we meet several times for the next few weeks, taking pictures or just having sex. He had a lot of stamina, and could come five or six times without difficulty, although after two or three times it took him longer, which was even better! But then we drifted apart – I took up with a black man as a lover, who was very jealous, and Clive met a couple of teen-age girls, sisters, who he said were fantastic in bed, and we lost touch.
Anyway, I phoned him up, and said my lover (that's you!) was working in the Middle East, and wanted some pictures of me naked, and would he take some for me. He said there'd be quite a price – me – and I said I'd be glad to pay, because my lover wasn't jealous.
So, we met yesterday evening at an Italian restaurant he knows for a meal before getting to work(!) Clive wore a check shirt with a corduroy jacket and jeans (you said you wanted all the details, darling!) and I wore that red dress you mentioned, the one I wore at Christmas that shows my cleavage, and I bought some matching sandals, the ones I'm wearing in the pictures. I didn't wear a bra – Clive doesn't like them before taking pictures, because they leave marks. Without one, the dress really reveals my breasts, and I got a lot of appreciative looks. I wore panties, though – just a scrap of red gauze and a couple of ribbons, practically transparent, The waiter gave us fantastic service, because he was always hovering around looking down my dress, and Clive did his share of staring, too. I spent a lot of time leaning forward, resting my arms on the table, so the dress fell away from my body, showing my breasts almost completely, and when nobody was looking I lifted my dress and let Clive see my panties.
He asked me about you (my lover) and I said you were wonderful, and that I still thought about the first time I had you inside me, and had your dick in my mouth (I didn't tell him you were my son, and that you were two or three years old at the time!). And I said that you came like a fountain!!!
We chatted for a while, and then amazingly he started to talk about incest! The girls he sleeps with have a younger brother, and they both have sex with him, as well as each other, and he asked me if I ever thought about having sex with my son! I said yes, often, but that we'd never done anything because I'd wanted him – you – to make the first move, and he seemed disappointed. He said he thought there was a lot more consenting incest than people thought, because nobody talked about it, but he'd had lots of hints that it was quite common, and I said perhaps I'd have sex with you, and tell him about it!!!
We took a taxi to his place, and in it he kissed me and put his hand down my dress to fondle my breast, and I unzipped his jeans and put my hand inside and played with his cock – it was lovely and hard and gristly. In his flat I stripped naked for him, apart from my sandals, and told him I wanted to make a down payment before he took any pictures, because I wanted sex so badly, and I took his cock out and kissed it, and he did me on the couch in his studio, the one in the pictures.