Dad's Private Collection

At that moment I wanted to take my hard cock from my jeans more than I ever had in my life. I wanted to stroke it while staring at the photos of my naked mother, until my cum shot out over the pine boards and sawdust in thick streams. Instead, I continued looking. When I got to the last photo in the pile I thought for a moment that I would cum in my jeans.

The final Polaroid was taken from Dad's point of view. Mom was kneeling at his feet, his thick cock was in her mouth and her wet lips were wrapped tightly around it. She was looking up towards him and her bare breasts filled the bottom of the frame. She looked perfectly wanton and I knew at that moment that I had to have her. My hands trembled as I returned the photos to the envelope. I quickly covered it back up with the magazines and put the saw and drill with the bits atop them. Once I had shoved the toolbox back beneath the counter I felt less nervous, but still just as horny.

I killed another half hour or so in the wood shop I needed the time to calm down from my arousal as much as I could before facing Mom again. I gathered up scraps of wood and swept up the sawdust. I threw it all into a green plastic garbage can in a corner, all the while still thinking about the images of my naked mother. Those photos I would retrieve some day when she was not home.

By the time I got back inside Mom had put on a pair of jeans and a red tank top. My cheeks still felt warm, but if she noticed them she would assume it was the result of the early August heat and the work I'd done. She was standing at the counter, looking at a flyer from a grocery store.

"All done?" She turned to face me, pushing the flyer aside.

"Yeah. There are a few tools and bird houses I want to keep. You can sell the table saw and sander. There's a little wood left and I thought we could keep that too -- just in case we need it for something," I told her.

Mom nodded. "Thanks for doing that. I could have, I suppose, but I dreaded going in there." Mom let out a sigh. "So many memories." She gave her head a slow shake, looking grief-stricken.

"I know," I said. "It made me really sad."

Mom stepped over to me and put her right arm around my shoulders. She clutched me tight to her. I slipped my arm around her waist, then felt her breast rubbing against me. My cock swelled and I forced my eyes to remain focused on the counter in front of me.

"You've got sawdust in your hair." She was running her hand over my head as she spoke, brushing me off.

"There was a lot in there," I said. "I swept it up and put it in the garbage."

Mom pressed her nose to the top of my head and inhaled deeply. "Mmmm... I can smell it on you," she said. "Your father always smelled like that when he came in from there." A wistful look came over her face. "You remind me of him so much."

"Really?" I asked, surprised by her remark. "People always said I look like you."

"Well, you've got my hair and eye colour, but as you get older I can see you're built like Henry," she said. "Tall, with broad shoulders."

I blushed, recalling the photo of her giving Dad head and thinking that the family resemblance doesn't end with my height or shoulders. My cock began to harden and the memory of her ass against it that morning returned to me. Her firm breast was still against my left side. I glanced down to it from the corner of my eye, now with a better knowledge of how it looked. But still not good enough for my yearning.

"I have to go out for a few groceries. Is there anything you want?" Mom had taken a grocery list from the table and was stuffing it in to her purse.

I thought for a few seconds. "No, thanks," I told her.

"Okay. I'll be back in about an hour."

I listened to the sound of Mom's car leaving the yard, then waited another five minutes. After she had gone I ran back out to the wood shop I pulled the wooden toolbox from under the counter and retrieved the magazines and envelope of Polaroids from it. Clutching them tight, I raced up to my bedroom.

I hid the magazines at the bottom of a box containing old comics I had bought when I was a child, way back in my closet. Next, I pulled my jeans and underwear down and laid back on my bed. I stared at the photos of Mom, one after another, stroking my cock and imagining all the lewd things I wanted to do with her.

By the time Mom returned home I had cum so hard I felt dizzy, then cleaned myself up. I had hidden the envelope of photos in the bottom drawer of my bureau, beneath a pile of pullovers. I was surfing the Net when I heard her car in the yard and went down to help her bring in the groceries.

I followed her inside, carrying four of the plastic grocery bags. She had set hers down in front of the fridge and was searching through one. I placed the bags in my hands down beside her, watching what she was doing.

"Oh, maybe it's in one of those," she said, reaching for the grocery bags I had placed on the floor

She bent over and began rifling through one of the bags. I could now see down the front of her tank top as it billowed from her chest. Her round breasts, held inside a white bra, jiggled and swayed. My jaw went slack as I stared at them. When she raised her head and her narrowed eyes met mine I grew frightened. She straightened her back, giving me a wily smile.

"I was going to show you that your favourite bagels were on sale, but you seem distracted," she said in a teasing voice.

"What? I was waiting to see what you were looking for," I spat out.

Mom placed the bag of onion bagels in her hand on the kitchen table. She seemed amused rather than angry or repulsed, which reassured me. It surprised me too. "You really are like Henry," she said in a soft voice. "His head turned like a doorknob when he saw a set of tits."

I wanted to laugh, but was too nervous. My eyes darted about, avoiding hers. When I felt my mother rest her hand on my right shoulder, I flinched. Then she slid it over my shoulder blades.

"I keep forgetting you're not a little boy anymore," she said. "Why did you have to grow up so fast?" Now she sounded melancholy.

I turned towards her and shrugged.

"I'm so scared of losing you, like Henry." Her voice grew shaky, as though she was fighting tears.

"You're not going to lose me, Mom," I told her. I slid an arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze.

Mom's right hand moved over my stomach and she held me to her. "What happened to that little boy who was scared of thunderstorms and shadows of branches on his bedroom window at night?"

"I grew up, Mom. I'm not a little boy anymore," I said.

Mom let out a soft laugh. "I think I found that out this morning when I sat down on your bed," she retorted, bathing my neck with her hot breath.

"Mom...!" I exclaimed, shocked and mortified. But also quite excited.

Once again, the sound of her soft giggle thrilled me. I could feel her breasts rub against me as her shoulders shook a little. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "Sometimes I get carried away with my teasing. But... I know where your eyes were when I was bending over just now."

I shrugged, unfazed. "Is there anything wrong with me admiring a beautiful woman?" I countered.

Mom chuckled at my flattery and rolled her pretty eyes. "I don't think I'm beautiful, but I am your mother," she said. Her rebuke wasn't harsh; it actually seemed like she was conflicted. Like she was reminding herself of our kinship as much as me. In her eyes there seemed to be a storm as she wrestled with her emotions.

"And definitely beautiful." I pressed my lips softly to her warm cheek and kissed her. Her body relaxed for a few seconds as I held her.

"Let's get these groceries put away," Mom said. She sounded almost frightened as she slipped from my arms.

Mom and I silently emptied the grocery bags and put their contents in cupboards and the fridge. The room was thick with tension and we avoided one another's eyes. My cock throbbed and my balls ached for release. Although the urge to pull her to me and tear her clothes off as I kissed every inch of her was nearly overwhelming, I fought it off.

"I'm going to go up to my room and download some music," I told her.

The groceries had been stowed away and Mom was sitting at the table, pretending to be engrossed in a newsletter about herbal remedies that she had gotten in the mail. She looked up and shot me an uncomfortable smile.

"Okay," she said with a curt nod of her head.

I pushed my bedroom door ajar and let out a long sigh from behind it. My eyes moved towards the bottom drawer of my bureau where I'd hidden the Polaroids of my mother. I wanted to take them out and spread them out over my bed and stroke my cock until my cum sprayed over the bottom sheet. Knowing that was impossible, I settled for wasting the next couple of hours online until Mom's enchanting voice called me down for supper.

My normally voracious appetite had abandoned me that evening. Mom had always been a wonderful cook and she had prepared one of my favourite meals: pork chops, apple sauce and mashed potatoes, with sauteed onions. It all tasted like ashes in my mouth as I sat across from her, forcing it down. I felt guilty knowing that she had made the extra effort, but I was too upset to be hungry. She seemed to feel the same because I noticed her pushing her food around and just picking at it rather than savoring it. Once her plate was nearly empty she went to the sink to rinse it off. I forced the rest down, then pushed myself away from the table.

"I'm going back up to my room," I said. "Thanks for supper, Mom. it was great."

My mother turned from the sink as she ran steaming water over the frying pan. She seemed indifferent. "Okay," she muttered.

I closed my bedroom door tight behind me and sat down in front of my computer. I heard myself sigh and ran my hands through my hair. I leaned back in the chair, thinking about my mother and worrying that I had somehow irrevocably sullied our relationship by allowing my libido to control me. I felt like crying. Yes, I loved her and wanted her like no son should ever want his mother, but never at the expense of our special bond.

When I heard two light raps at my bedroom door, I jumped. Mom opened the door and poked her head inside. "I'm going to bed now. Have a good night," she said in a flat tone.

I took a quick glance down at the clock on my computer. It was almost eleven. I was surprised that the hours had passed so quickly. "Okay. Have a good night, Mom," I said, then after a lengthy pause added "I love you."

"I love you too. Sleep well." With that, she closed my door and went to the bathroom.

I listened to the sounds of the toilet flushing and running water, then Mom's bedroom door closing. Once I felt secure that she was in bed I turned on the light on my night stand and flipped the switch to the ceiling light. After getting undressed, except for my t-shirt, I slowly slid open the bottom drawer of my bureau. I pulled the envelope of Polaroids of my mother from beneath the stack of pullovers and sorted through them.

My cock swelled and rose beneath the hem of my t-shirt. Soon my shaft was thick and rising up from the curly dark hair surrounding the base. It twitched, pointing up towards my belly. The mushroom-shaped head was swollen and a deep red. Precum began to seep from the thin slit dividing it. I rubbed my thumb over it, shivering in anticipation. I pulled my favourite photo of my mother from the envelope. It was a close-up of her from the waist up. She was smiling seductively and cupping her heavy breasts in her palms. Her fleshy orbs eclipsed her slender hands and her thick, dark nipples were aimed directly at the camera, like two dark pearls, surrounded by lighter rings a few inches around and vaguely oval. Her negligee was open wide, revealing most of her torso down to the subtle curve of her tummy, just below her cute little navel. But it was her full breasts with their elongated nipples and the look on her face that excited me the most. I returned the envelope with the remaining photos to the drawer, still holding my favourite one.

I could feel my hard cock bounce and my balls sway as I settled back on my bed. The blanket lay in a tangled bunch below my feet. I stared at the picture of my mother as I slowly stroked my shaft as it pointed towards the ceiling, hoping to make the experience last as long as possible. My breathing was heavy as I looked at the Polaroid in my hands, recalling the feel of her firm breasts pressed to me the times we had embraced. In my mind, I imagined her breasts glistening with oil and her squeezing them together as I plunged my engorged cock between them. I could hear her soft, sexy voice urging me on, telling me how good it felt and how much she liked my thick meat between her slippery globes.

I don't recall if I heard my mother knock on my door. She must have, because when it was closed she never entered my room without even a couple of perfunctory knocks before sticking her head inside. I guess I was too lost in my lewd fantasy world to have heard. All I remember is her stepping inside and letting out a sharp cry of shock as she discovered me lying naked on my bed with my fist wrapped around my throbbing erection. I let out a deep grunt and reached for the blanket at my feet. The Polaroid sailed from my hand. It landed on the floor as I attempted to cover my hard pole. I was covered now, but the blanket never served to completely hide how my hard cock stood up from my trembling body.

"I saw your light on from under the door and thought we should talk... but... I... I guess you're busy." Mom's halting voice wavered as she spoke, staring at the noticeable tent my erection was making in the blanket. Then her wide eyes moved to the Polaroid on the floor. It had landed face-up so she could see it was of her. Her mouth went agape and another abrupt gasp of shock left her throat. "Where did you get that?" Her question was more out of astonishment than interrogation.

"I found them... in Dad's wood shop," I sputtered, turning my head towards her. I could feel my cock twitch as I looked at her.

"Them?!" Her eyes grew wider as she approached my bed. She snatched the Polaroid from the floor, giving it an incredulous stare.

"They were in an envelope, in a toolbox," I explained.

"And where are the others?" she demanded.

"There -- in the bottom drawer, under some sweaters." I gestured with my head towards my bureau.

Mom tugged the bureau drawer open and dug to the bottom, then pulled the envelope out. She tilted it to one side, letting the photos slide into her palm. As she flipped through the pictures she looked aghast. Her legs grew weak and she slumped down on the bed beside me.

"Your father swore that he had destroyed these years ago," she said, sounding bewildered. "I was so scared that someone would find them."

I shrugged. "Well, I guess he didn't," I muttered.

Mom shot me an irritated look. She was wearing a white shirt that hung down half-way over her smooth thighs. At first I thought it was a blouse, then I noticed which side the buttons were on and realized it must be one of Dad's old shirts. It was unbuttoned part-way down her chest, just enough to allow me to see a thin strip of her soft skin showing through the narrow gap. The white cotton was tight over her braless breasts and I saw the faint outlines of her nipples through it. My fear and agitation was replaced by arousal once more as I helped myself to eyefuls of her bosom, barely concealed by the thin shirt. As she leaned closer I noticed the shadowy outlines of her areolas through the cotton.

"And you were looking at these and..." Mom's gentle voice faded out as her eyes moved down towards the outline of my erection beneath the blanket. It had wilted some, but was still prominent.

I gave her a guilty nod, unable to confess to my sin aloud.

The envelope and Polaroids slipped from Mom's hand and fell to the floor. She looked down at them, then picked up the one I had been looking at when she interrupted me. She studied it, then smiled. "Is this your favourite?" she asked. Her blue eyes met mine and they had taken on a dreamy, inviting quality.

"Yeah," I admitted with a nod, nearly entranced by the look on her face.

"Why?" she asked. She had dropped the picture to the floor and was leaning closer, resting her hand on my stomach. Her soft touch made my cock return to it's full size.

"I don't know," I mumbled. "You look so sexy in it."

"You like my tits, don't you?" she said in a soft, breathy voice. Her hand had slipped down my stomach so it was resting against the blanket covering my cock.

"Yeah," I admitted.

"Just like your father..." she remarked. Her face was a little pink now and her eyes had narrowed slightly.

I chuckled, now very aware of her fingers toying with the trail of my hair just above my belly button. When her gaze shifted towards my erection I was filled with nervous excitement.

"Did you get a good look at them this afternoon when I was bending over the groceries?" she asked. Her eyes had met mine again and her fingertips were teasing my stomach.

"Uh... yeah... pretty good," I admitted and licked my lips.

"Not as good as these photos though..." she replied with a slight chuckle. "Your father talked me into taking them after I'd had a few glasses of wine. He said they'd be his private collection." Her eyes left mine for a moment as she reminisced. Then she gave me a regretful look. "I guess you know I'm going to take them so I can destroy them," she added.

I nodded once more and my eyes moved down to the outlines of her nipples straining the white shirt. I wanted to slide my hand back under the blanket to my cock, but clenched my fist.

"But... maybe I can make it up to you," she continued in a sultry tone.

I gave my mother a perplexed look, but before I could form a question she had slid the blanket down to my knees to uncover my thick erection. It twitched when the room air hit it and I inhaled deeply. When I felt her fingertips glide over my heavy balls it felt as though the room had begun to spin. She cupped them in her warm palm and smiled into my eyes.

"No one can ever know about this," she cautioned.

I swallowed hard and nodded. I would have agreed to anything for her to continue. My hands were fists at my sides as Mom curled her fingers around the base of my throbbing shaft. She gave it a gentle squeeze, then began to slowly work her hand up and down over it.

"Mmmm... you really are built like Henry," she remarked, staring at my cock. "Nice and thick."

I was too overcome with passion to reply. My eyes moved from her hand wrapped around my cock to her breasts, rocking slowly beneath her shirt. Her nipples were harder now and their size was more noticeable through the material. She leaned over me, caressing my erection with one hand, while squeezing my loose balls with the other. I lifted from the bed slightly, trying to fuck her fist.

"Like that?" she asked, looking into my half-closed eyes.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

Mom continued to watch my cock as she stroked it with her soft hand. She had quickened her pace and her breasts shook inside her shirt. I reached out and cupped her left one in my hand. It was heavy and firm. I gave it a squeeze, pushing it upwards, unable to fit even half in my hand. I rubbed her thick nipple with my thumb, but she recoiled and stopped moving her hand.

"Uh-uh..." she chided softly. "No touching me, Richard. Okay?" She gave me a teasing smile.

I gave my mother a reluctant nod and let my hand fall back to the bed. Once I had done that she resumed pumping my shaft with her hand. Her eyes were fixed on the head, as though she was waiting for streams of my cum to shoot from it. I knew it wouldn't be long before that happened.

My balls shook a little and her full breasts danced inside the shirt as she pumped her hand faster, fucking my cock with it and bringing me closer. When I finally came I let out a deep groan and arched my back, thrusting my twitching cock into her fist. She kept up her pace. Cum shot from my cock in three quick bursts. Some of the first one landed on her hair. It gleamed against her shiny, black tresses. The rest landed on the back of her hand and fingers and my stomach. Mom kept stroking me, using my thick, hot cum as lube until I began to soften. Then she released me, letting my glistening cock rest on my thigh.