Family Photos

"That's a good one," she lifted her hand, swiping back a photo to land on an image of her on all fours, boobs showing yet nipples obscured by her arms. "Do you like it?" She asked and I declined to answer. Of course, I liked it. I loved it! But how could I admit it?

"I'll add it," I replied impartially and her hand again fell to my leg. This time higher. Fractionally, but it was enough. The jig was up. Her thumb came to rest upon the shaft of my cock, her palm essentially cupping the head. I pulsed beneath her and expected a gasp of surprise. A horrified release of disgust from her as I held my breath in anticipation. None came. Some change in her breathing, but no revulsion. Didn't she feel it? Was it possible she wasn't aware? The hardness something else. A roll of quarters? My cell phone? Ridiculous I know, but when your mother's hand unexpectantly presses upon your hard-on, strange things go through your mind.

"Ooh, I like that," she whispered so close to my cheek. "Do you, Honey?"

The photo we were looking at? Or her hand on my cock? Either was fine by me and I managed to form a response.

"Yes," I sighed as I stared at her photo, on her back upon the bed, noticing something I hadn't earlier, a glistening upon her upper thighs, caught by the automatic flash of the camera. My dick involuntarily twitched and surely it was the final straw. Now she'd realize my state and call me out. Send me from her house in shame. No. The opposite, more pressure placed upon my shaft, the length of her index finger joining her thumb. Undeniable. If she were my date we'd be making out by now, my hand between her legs, a finger within.

Her head nestled further into my shoulder, her breath warm upon my neck, my own held as so gently she massaged my erection, the movement subtle enough to be misconstrued as innocent, unintentional. Was it? My head swam. My cock pulsed. I managed to add the photo to the website and felt on the verge of fainting. No, it wasn't unconsciousness that was imminent I realized. Something else.

"Thank you for this," Mom whispered, breathless. For what? My erection? Allowing her to touch it? "For today. For everything," she explained further and her hand increased its movement, no doubt left in her actions as I twitched beneath her, the inevitable approaching.

"I..." I wanted to admit my state, the impending release, but words failed me. "I..."

"Shhh, Honey," her mouth moved to be beside my ear, her breath giving me goosebumps, her hand essentially jerking me off through my pants. "A mother knows when her baby needs a milking," she whispered and the words sent me over the edge. Losing the fight as she pressed against my shaft. I came. Not an ordinary ejaculation. This was something otherworldly. A volcanic eruption. I exhaled in gasps as over and again my orgasm surged forth. Flooding my underpants, warmth spreading across my pelvis. It was wonderful. It was horrific. Such taboo euphoria mixed with an undeniable shame. Had she expected this? Her son to cum in his pants? Embarrassment quickly overtook pleasure as the last of the semen pulsed forth, the single synapse in my brain that wasn't completely devoted to an incestuous desire for my mother taking charge and forcing me to realize my situation. 'Get out of there,' it yelled.

Abruptly I rose from the bed, the corner of my eye-catching Mom almost falling to the mattress before she steadied herself, so unexpected was my escape. I kept my groin out of sight as I explained my action, dropping her phone on the bed as I made my way to the door. "Well, if we're done here, I've gotta get going," I stated, seeing my reflection in her mirror, a dark patch seeping through the front of my pants. The sight hastened my getaway.

"What!? Honey?" Mom seemingly perplexed, attempted to stall my departure. "You don't have to go."

"Yeah..." I couldn't even look back at her such was my embarrassment. A glance in the mirror. "Yeah, I do," I found the door and the safety of the hallway. Behind I could hear her rising from the bed and as I sought the kitchen, my car keys, and the backdoor, I saw her peripherally, donning her satin robe as she followed.

"But, the photos? The website?" Mom questioned, a tension in her voice.

"They're uploaded," I dismissively informed her as I hurried to the exit. "You just need to hit enter."

"But..." Mom made a last attempt to get me to stay or at least to turn and face her.

"Mom, I've gotta go. I'm late for something," I lied. "Let me know how the comp goes," I denied her endeavor, closing the door behind me to almost run from the house and to my car.

And then came the shame. Sitting in the now cold and uncomfortable evidence of my transgression, I looked in the visor mirror at my red face. What had I done? I'd never be able to look at her again, I decided. Speak to her? How? I looked down at the fist-sized wet patch on my pants and the embarrassment rose all over again. But she'd wanted it! I reminded myself. It wasn't just me in there. I thought of her words. Struggling to come up with her exact phrase. 'A mother needs to milk her son,' or something like that. Ridiculously my cock responded, its semi-erect state hardening. Stop it, I told myself. She must have been drunk. Mad maybe? I started the car and with my dick once more gaining its fully erect state, began the drive home.

*

The shower. Washing away the evidence. My soapy hand upon my cock immediately reminded me of my mother's touch. This wasn't good. The erection following, devoted to her. Closing my eyes under the flow of water and seeing her in the bikini. I laughed. What bikini? It was barely even a piece of string. I wanted to talk to her about it. To laugh with her and declare how good she looked. How good she looked naked. This wasn't healthy. I began wanking, the slick lotion reminding me of her glistening upper thighs. The scent of her pussy coming back to me. I came. This wasn't right. Nothing about this was right.

A day passed. Two. I expected her to call me but it never came. Checking my phone just in case when I'd been apart from it. Nothing. And why would she? Probably didn't want to speak to her creep of a son ever again. The one that got a hard-on from taking innocent photos of her. What must she think of me? The one that came in his pants from a simple touch. Had it even been sexual? Maybe she was just balancing herself! What had she said? 'A mother knows when her baby needs a milking.' Had I misheard her words? Maybe she was just offering me a glass of milk! Had any of it even happened? As the days went by, the event seemed more to be a dream. A week and still nothing. It was a dream. A fantasy I'd concocted from a night of too much drinking perhaps? Had I even gone to the mall with her so long ago now? Seen the Wet Waves kiosk? Purchased the bikini subscription?

When two weeks had passed and we'd still not spoken, I'd begun to worry. As much as I'd attempted to convince myself nothing untoward had happened between us. I knew the reality. And it had played out exactly as recalled. She'd been as much a part (if not more) of it as me. As willing. Friday night and with a few beers under my belt, I determined to call her and talk about it frankly. To say sorry for how I'd left it. To admit how I'd felt. How I still felt.

I was in the act of reaching for my phone when it rang. And of course, it was her.

And of course, I didn't say any of what I'd intended. Pleasantries were what was conveyed. Small talk so banal that for more than a moment I wondered if I had indeed imagined it all. And then came the reality check. Words that washed away like a tsunami all suggestions I'd concocted any of it in my head.

"They haven't named the winners yet," she flippantly raised. "They haven't even put the photos on the website. Have you looked?"

Had I looked? Was she serious? Daily, I was checking the site for the images. Multiple times.

"No, been busy with work," I lied, not wanting her to think I was some mommy-obsessed pervert.

I detected a notable disappointment in her voice at my confession and immediately regretted my words.

"Oh," she paused. "Well... I've been looking at the photos you took. They came out great," again there was silence and I wanted to fill it by telling her the truth. That I didn't want to see her in photos or online. That I wanted her in person. Clothed, naked, any which way. That I wanted to kiss her, to taste and touch her. That every time I jerked off, she was in my head. "I actually purchased something else from them," she again stalled. "It just arrived in the mail," she added and this time I endeavored to sound enthusiastic in response.

"Oh yeah?" I said and she noted my change in tone, her voice rising.

"I was wondering if you'd... I mean maybe we could..." It was nice to know even she was nervous about what was clearly happening between us.

"You want me to come around and take some photos?" My cock began rising as I said the words.

*

Too early to be changed for bed, the familiar satin robe I spied her wearing as I glanced through the kitchen window was obviously to conceal something special. My heart was racing as I imagined what design of bikini she'd reveal. How many times had I seen her thus? Called in from play as a child. Arriving home early evening from school or football practice as a teen. Seen her moving about the kitchen in the act of preparing a meal. The perfect mother. And she was perfect. Her hair was up in the highest of ponytails, the robe barely dropping below her curved buttocks as she moved across the room, her shapely legs below. Why hadn't I noticed her beauty sooner?

"Hey," I flippantly announced my arrival as I entered the family home, just as all the fear and doubt I'd felt last I was there came flooding back. I'd come around expecting we'd fuck. That she'd come to me and we'd embrace in unrestrained incestuous desire. When we looked at each other, however, that prospect evaporated with reality. We were mother and son, not lovers. If this was going to happen, caution needed to be shown. We both needed to be entirely on board.

"Honey," Mom just as casually responded and what followed was a moment of awkwardness. Was she recalling me running from the house in shame with pants full of cum? I blushed at my recollection and diverted my eyes from hers seeking something to stimulate conversation, her phone charging upon the bench awaiting my use. "Oh, yeah," she noted where my eyes had settled. "The battery is really low. We might have to use yours if you don't mind?"

Did I mind!? It was what I'd been wishing for from the beginning and just the thought I'd now have photos of Mom at my disposal had my dick twitching. It was then I noticed the butter. A knob sitting upon a saucer in the middle of the bench and still nodding my agreement at using my phone, I commented upon it. "What are you cooking?" I questioned and it was now her that blushed.

"Oh!" She waved a hand in dismissal before clutching at the front of her robe, what could only be described as a smirk coming to her face. "It's not for cooking," she cryptically suggested. "I bought one of those swimming plugs," she added as if it would explain everything.

"A what?" I asked.

"You know, a plug for swimming," she stated. "They sell them on the Wet Waves site. I thought if we take some photos of me wearing it and send them in... well... I've not seen any other woman on the site wearing one, so I'm sure I'll stand out when they judge the competition."

I was perplexed as to what she was referring to and told her so.

"Mom, what are you talking about? What's that got to do with the butter?"

"To get it in!" She looked at me as though I were an idiot. "I couldn't do it at first and couldn't think of something to use, then remembered that Brando movie... what was it called? Tango in France or something..." She must have noticed the blank expression on my face and got back to the story. "Well. Butter! It was the perfect lubricant!" She finally stated.

"For what?" I was still confused.

"For the swimming plug!" She straightened where she was leaning against the kitchen bench and turned around, undoing the tie of her robe and allowing it to fall down her bare back.

My eyes followed its path as her flesh was exposed. No bikini. Not even a shoelace masquerading as one. The perfect curve of her spine, the small of her back, and as those luscious bare buttocks came into view, still nothing of note. Until she bent slightly forward and I saw it. Her 'swimming plug', the round bejeweled plunger of a butt plug nestled between her heavenly globes; the sight caused my heart to race, and my face to flush.

"Mom!" I exhaled. "That's a... that's a butt plug," I informed her, wondering how it had taken me so long to understand what she'd been referring to.

"Oh, well I've not seen it called that. But yes, a plug," she turned to face me, lifting the robe back up her arms in the process, slowly, almost halfheartedly drawing it across her breasts to give me the briefest glimpse of her smooth groin. "It stops the water going inside you when you swim," she completely misunderstood the role of the sex toy she'd inserted in her ass. "I have to say, it was bigger than I'd expected it to be. It's not unpleasant though!"

My cock was swelling at a rapid rate and I knew the sweatpants I'd chosen specifically to wear, gladly did nothing to hide my affection as I wondered if, in fact, she was putting on an act. Feigning ignorance, or innocence? An underhanded way of seducing me, of turning me on. What did I care? Naive or not, it did the trick, without even glancing down, seeing my cock tenting out at my groin.

"And you're positive about this?" I stupidly questioned her resolve.

"What?"

"Well, I mean we've been here before, you're... you'll be naked!" I once more needlessly informed her and thankfully, she dismissed my concern.

"Oh Darling," she gave me a sympathetic smile. "I do have something on... well in!" She laughed. "Now, shall we go to the bedroom?" Mom continued, dismissing my unwarranted concerns, her eyes glancing down, skirting across the development in my pants as she led the way from the kitchen and down the hallway.

Mesmerized, I followed. Glued to her rear in the robe, now catching the almost imperceptible change in her gait as she accommodated the butt plug. I momentarily looked at teenage Me's bedroom door and shook my head as I trailed Mom into her own. If only to go back in time and tell Me what was in our future I thought, smiling at the idea only to have Mom catch my expression as she turned, preparing to speak when she hit the bed.

"What?" She questioned my appearance, interrupting herself, I noticed now doing a good job at not looking at my obvious hard-on.

"Nothing Mom," I answered, my cheeks beginning to hurt from my grin. "Everything's fine."

"Oh, ok," she threw me a sly look. "It's not how I look or anything, is it? I don't want to make a fool of myself."

"Not at all," I admitted as she climbed upon the bed, the robe parting to once more reveal her nudity, again slow to correct the malfunction. "You look perfect."

"Oh, go on!" She laughed. Allowing herself a glance at my cock, her face slowly blushing. "Now, as I was going to say. I don't mind being a little more daring this time. Let's do our best to win this thing."

"Alright," I agreed, taking a moment to stroke up the length of my erection, squeezing the underside of my shaft while she turned on the bed, her eyes diverted. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well," she began and I raised my phone as on her knees she again lowered the robe down her back. "I wouldn't say no to some close-ups."

"Ok, we can do that," I affirmed as I admired my naked mother through the screen of my iPhone, taking the first of many photos that I knew I'd be jerking off to for years to come.

"Just tell me what to do," she breathed as I dropped lower to concentrate on her ass and the focus of the photo shoot, noting the two diamante W's of the Wet Waves logo turned sideways.

"Well, you could start by straightening up the plug. You'd want their logo to be in the right position," I suggested and watched intently as she threw a hand back to take hold of the flared end.

"It does feel weird when you touch it!" She giggled as she turned the plug around only to have the letters appear upside down. "Is that better?" She looked over her shoulder at me hopefully, only to see me shake my head.

"Now they're totally the wrong way around," I laughed, and again she made to adjust the butt plug, spinning it in her sphincter.

"Now?" She questioned and I shook my head. "Oh, you do it then," she exhaled, turning away from me and dropping her chin to the mattress, the now abandoned robe falling the rest of the way off her body, her ass remaining raised upon the bed, pointed directly at me.

"Me?" I stammered.

"Yes Darling," she confirmed as she spread her knees upon the bed, her bald slit coming into view below the butt plug. "All that butter makes it quite easy to turn."

I could feel my face burning as I dropped a knee down onto the mattress, climbing up behind my naked mother. Abandoning my phone, I reached out a shaking hand and placed it upon her left buttock for support, spreading her cheek to give me greater access to the butt plug, pausing as I admired her sex.

"It's ok Honey," Mom whispered into the mattress. "You can touch me there," she added, obviously sensing my hesitance and misconstruing it as reluctance as I drew out the moment. "Here, I'll make it easier," she added.

With my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass, I watched as Mom pushed out upon the butt plug, the surrounding skin of her sphincter ballooning to emphasize the proportion of the plug within her body.

"Ok, do it now," she insisted, and breaking the spell I was under, I raised my other hand to take hold of the flared end of the plug, my fingers caressing the hot buttered greasiness of her asshole as I turned the Wet Waves logo to the correct position. "Mmm," Mom sighed at the action. "I admit, that does feel good!" She confessed laughing, and I released her buttock to grab at the front of my pants heightening the moment by squeezing my hard-on through the material as I reluctantly let go of the butt plug. "I suppose that's a bit naughty to say, isn't it!?"

"Ah... it's ok," I sighed, essentially jerking off behind her, feeling the slickness of precum seeping from my eye, my cock aching to be out of my track pants. "We're good to go I think," I quickly removed my hand as once more I bordered on premature ejaculation. Not again, I told myself!

"Thank you, Darling," Mom again rose on the bed as I stepped away, doing nothing to hide my erection, willing her to look. "Now," she turned comfortable in her nudity. "What do you want me to do?"

I could think of a million things, but the professional in me got down to business, taking up my phone as I openly stared at her breasts, her nipples hard in the warm bedroom. As I dropped my gaze to feast my eyes on her groin. That perfectly smooth patch of skin above the hint of labia. Surely waxed, with no visible sign of shaving. How I longed to investigate closer and of course, I could.

"I guess just turn around again," I offered. "That position before was fine."

"Like this?" She crawled onto all fours, knees together as she looked back hopefully.

"Almost," I enthusiastically nodded. "Now, just spread your legs."

She did exactly as told, sliding her knees out beneath herself to again fully expose the butt plug, and of course her pussy below. Without further pause, I lifted the phone and began taking photos.

"That's it, Mom," I encouraged as she threw back a hand to plant upon her buttock, digging her fingers into the flesh and spreading her cheek as I'd just done. "Nice. I was just about to tell you to do that," I admitted as I moved in closer, mounting the mattress to focus in on her ass. Inches from the butt plug, I took shot after shot of her plugged asshole and vulva below. Moisture began to glisten her labia, the scent of her sex becoming intoxicating.