Held Together with MombyHeyAll©
Oxford University. A place of prestige and higher education.
It was also where my mother had been teaching for the past few years. I've been to England a few times, but never to that campus, until she finally convinced me to come visit her there. It was my break from college, so I had the time.
She was eager to give me a grand tour of the university and show me all of the historical buildings. Sure, I was definitely interested. But I also wanted to see what kind of hot European women they had on campus too.
Once I got there I could easily see why mom was never really interested in coming back to America. Because in America, she was just another woman with a fancy degree and excess knowledge. But on the Oxford campus, she was quite the Renaissance Woman.
She did it all. She taught courses on European and Greek history, she helped with new student orientation, she gave tours, and she did various things with art. An intellectual Wonder Woman, she was.
The campus was extraordinary. It was filled with history and stunning design. It was like a museum unto itself.
Oh, and the best part of the tour, as it would later turn out, was when she took me to meet her mentor, an Italian woman named Giavanna. She was a senior lecturer and was a highly accomplished and respected member of the facility.
We had a brief introduction and she couldn't have been nicer. What made her special was her passion for history and her powerful intellect. I could see why mom was so fond of this lady.
Things became interesting in mom's apartment later that evening. She seemed elated after checking her phone and seeing a message from Giavanna.
"Interesting news," she said with the phone in her hand. "And I don't know how you'll take it."
Mom approached me while I was relaxing on her couch, enjoying the beautiful view she had of the city. She sat down next to me with her eyes still on the phone.
"What is it?"
She put the phone down and smiled at me. "Giavanna is a highly accomplished artist, as I've told you. Everything she paints is just gold. I mean, gosh, I can't put it into words. That woman is a goddess."
It was obvious that mom was at a loss for words over her admiration for Giavanna. As an art lover, mom was often left speechless over paintings and sculptures that were magnificent in her eyes.
Mom continued, "Anyway, after meeting us today, she was convinced that we'd be perfect for her next masterpiece."
"Hold on a minute," I interjected. "She wants me too? As in, I'd have to be part of the art."
"Yes, isn't it exciting?"
"Well, not really. I mean, art isn't my thing. I'd be fine if she wants to take a picture of us. She can do whatever she want with that."
Mom flashed a no-nonsense look. "Whatever Giavanna wants, Giavanna gets. The woman is a unique talent in this world. Plus I owe her so much for everything she's done for me. She recommended that Oxford give me a full time position after I had only been teaching there for two semesters."
There was no quit in my mother. Whenever she had her sights on something, she'd find a way to make it happen. That's an attractive quality about her. It's also the reason why she could do whatever she wanted in life. She was fearless.
"What do I have to do?" I sighed.
A radiant smile beamed on mom's face. "Here, let me show you the message from Giavanna."
Mom held the phone out so I could read the email:
It was so nice meeting your son today. He seems to be a charming fellow. I think you two have wonderful chemistry together. I would love to capture it if possible.
Would you two be interested?
The two of you seem to have a natural spark. I cannot begin to explain it. When I saw you together, I realized that the two of you be perfect for my rendition of Bernini's Pluto and Proserpina.
I've been interested in making a new version of that for years, but I could never find the right models for it. After meeting Stuart, I realized that I need both of you! A mother/son relationship would certainly add an interesting twist to this rendition, wouldn't you say?
If interested, I'll be free in my usual lecture hall at 3 pm. It will only take an hour for me to paint your bodies and expressions onto the canvas. This version will be raw and made to my usual taste. Then you two are free to leave.
When I finished reading the message, mom took her phone back.
"It's a famous sculpture," mom explained. "If Giavanna wants us to pose for her painting version of it, then we can't refuse. It's a big honor."
"Fine. But I have to warn you, I've never posed for anything before. I don't know if I can hold still for an hour. There could be a slight chance that I might ruin her work by moving too much."
"Don't be a wuss," she joked. "Believe me, time passes by easier than you think. Posing is easy."
"So you've done this before?"
"Several times with Giavanna. We paint or sculpt each other when we have spurts of inspiration."
"That's interesting," I said.
"Why? Don't you think that I have the body for that kind of art?"
There was a proud look on her face as she kind of misinterpreted my question. Did she really just say that?
"You've posed nude before?" I had to ask.
She shrugged off my lewd question. "Art is art. The human body is one of the highest forms of art there is."
"Okay, you've definitely spent too much time around the academic elite. You're starting to sound like a snob."
She sneered and I laughed.
"It's what I love," she said. "Being part of Giavanna's collection is going to be a wonderful experience. Frankly, I'm glad she wanted you for something. You'll get to experience one of my favorite hobbies."
"Sitting around for an hour without moving?" I quipped.
"You'll see tomorrow. I've really learned a lot from her this past year. We've taken turns painting each other and she's given me a lot of tips."
I just had to ask. "Nude?"
"Of course. Is there a better way?"
Suddenly, my mind rushed with lewd thoughts of them naked together. Two mature beauties, standing around bare as they took turns painting each other.
How truly European.
Mom sensed my thoughts and added, "It's actually quite liberating. You should try it sometime. Without me there, of course."
"Mom," I said, shaking my head. "I'm a guy. It's different."
"What's that supposed to mean? That you'll get an erection if you posed for a woman?"
"There are plenty of male models," she pointed out. "None of them have issues with their penises while posing."
"That's because they're professionals."
"Enough talk about penises for today. There'll be plenty of that for tomorrow."
Mom waved her hand. "Oh, relax. You won't be getting naked. But the pose that Giavanna wants to make is based on a nude art. Knowing her, she'll carefully describe all the nude parts of the original."
"The Pluto something-something?"
"That's the one. And it's called Pluto and Proserpina, by Bernini. You should look it up later. It's a beautiful piece of work. I've always been fascinated by how Bernini managed to make the marble look exactly like her flesh."
Later that night, I took mom's advice and checked out that sculpture on the internet. We'll be posing for that? I thought. Clearly it was going to be an interesting process if we had to pose like that. Neither of us realized how life changing it would actually become.
The next day. I walked to campus and met with my mother after she finished teaching a class. We made some small talk and she gave me a few pointers on how to be a good model. I wasn't thrilled about doing this, but it did sound like it would be a fun experience.
When the time came, we went to the long lecture hall. Giavanna chose that space because it had these massive windows which would provide a natural sunlight for the art.
We waited around while Giavanna meticulously prepared the posing area, her canvas, and her painting supplies. Then she quickly had us strike a few mock poses while she gazed at us intensely, figuring out the perfect position.
"Okay, I know what I want," Giavanna said with her thick and luscious Italian accent. "Now become bare. Everything off."
I turned to my mother so fast that I nearly had whiplash. Mom's facial expression was obviously that of shock. She was caught totally off guard by this.
"Nude?" mom asked. "I assumed we'd be clothed for this, since I'm with my son this time."
"Wasn't I clear in the email?" Giavanna asked. "I sincerely apologize for any confusion."
For the next few minutes, I stood there awkwardly as they went back and forth, apologizing over the confusion. Mom continuously apologized for misunderstanding the email. Giavanna apologized if her email was vague.
One thing I found noteworthy was that Giavanna never apologized for asking a mother & son to pose nude together. This was Europe alright. And she was as liberal as it got when it came to free expression and body parts.
A break in the awkwardness came when Giavanna's phone beeped. She checked her phone and sighed.
"I have to make an important call," Giavanna said. "This will be a few minutes. In the meantime, make your decision. It must be nude. If not, then I understand, and this session will come to an end."
She excused herself to talk outside the lecture hall, and mom and I were to make an important decision. Mom looked at me with a light expression and I already knew what her answer was.
"Just something to consider," mom said. "Giavanna's artwork is a big seller across England and Europe. She only makes art when she's truly inspired. And now, she has a creative burst with us."
I shrugged. "Lucky us."
"That's not all. When her work sells, it's typical for her to make thousands of dollars in profits, which she gives entirely to charity. Got that? She doesn't make a penny from this. She lives entirely off her teaching salary. To date, she's given over $100,000 US dollars to charity."
Now mom was just laying a guilt trip on me. If I refused, who knows which charity would lose out on an influx of cash.
"Are you serious?" I asked rhetorically. "I mean, really? You want us to get naked and recreate that Pluto and Perspoli sculpture pose by Bertonini?"
Mom gave a look of sympathy. "It's called Pluto and Proserpina by Bernini. And yes, I'm serious. We've already come this far. The last thing I want is to disappoint Giavanna, especially when she's so excited to work with us. Come to think of it, I have never seen her so excited before."
"Really? Her face is made of stone."
"That's how she looks when she's in her groove. She thinks hard and intensely before she crafts."
I sighed, "Mom, charity is great, and I'm glad she's a generous person. But we'll, you know, see each other naked. Doesn't that bother you?"
"You know my stance on nudity. I've explained it last night."
"Yeah, but it's me this time!"
There was a look in mom's eyes as she was silent for a moment. She was figuring out how to reposition her argument to persuade me. That's when I knew that this was inevitable; when mom wanted something, she always figured out a way to get it.
"Boobs," she said flippantly. "I have a great pair of them. Whenever I've modeled nude this past year, I can tell that even the most experienced artists can't stop staring at my tits. And I have a great ass too."
"If we do this together, then you can stare at them all you want. It's a one time offer. Take it or leave it."
What an offer it was.
I countered, "What makes you think I'm interested in that?"
"Mom or not, men like tits. You get a free viewing of my naked body. And believe me, I've studied enough literature to realize that men sometimes lusts after their mothers. You might be one of them."
"Really!? Jeez. You're really suggesting that about me?"
She gave a sharp expression. "You may, or may not, have had incestuous fantasies about me, at any point in your life. Honestly I don't mind. All I'm saying is that you can get a free viewing of my tits. I don't mind if you stare. The end result is that we'll have made great art that'll last forever. And lots of money goes to charity."
There was no way out. I was boxed in.
"Fine," I said in defeat. "But NOT because I'm some incestuous pervert. It's for charity."
"When was the last time you gave to charity?" she playfully questioned.
"I do. You just don't see it."
She smiled, "Whatever the reason, thank you. I'm glad you're agreeing. It'll be lots of fun, you'll see."
The door opened and Giavanna returned, locking the door behind her so that no one could enter and disturb us.
"Sorry about that," Giavanna said, approaching us. "Have you made your decision?"
"We have," mom smiled. "We'll do it."
There was a pleased look on Giavanna's face, then she explained what she wanted out of this. She had spent the night thinking of the specific aspects she wanted. She was certain this would work best as a more erotic piece, something I wished she would have told us earlier.
Finally, she told us to strip. Quickly. Time was of the essence and there was none to waste.
Mom flashed an apologetic look to me. "Being naked is totally harmless. The beginning is the hardest part. Then it's smooth sailing afterwards."
That's when we did it. We had already anticipated that we'd be undressing to some extent, so we had already dressed light. As we undressed, the awkward part was what to do with our eyes. Should we look? Should we look later? When should would we look? Because eventually we'd be seeing each other naked for the very first time, and it could never be unseen. The effects would be permanent.
Naturally, I was the first to get down to my underwear, since I wore less clothes than my mother. With nothing else to do, I took a glance at my mother, who was barefoot and almost down to her bra and panties. Like most women her age, she was slightly thin in some areas, and plump in other spots. She had the body of a mature woman who aged gracefully. And that turned me on.
When mom was fully down to bra and panties, with nothing else, she took a glance at me, noticing that I was gawking at her, then she instinctively covered up with her hands. I felt embarrassed and looked away, then she put her hands down, trying to relax.
"Let's get this over with, shall we?" she asked rhetorically. "We're going to see each other naked anyway. Might as well make it swift."
I tried not to look directly at her. Through the corner of my eye, I saw her reach back to unclasp her bra. She bent down and pulled her panties away.
When I looked at her directly, she was facing me, standing upright, proud of her naked figure. God, what a sight. What a beautiful sight. A vision of mature beauty. Her breasts were small and slightly sagged. Those large brown nipples were rock hard, and I wondered if they were hard from exposure to air, or from exhibitionism. Her pubic hairs were neatly trimmed too.
There wasn't a single tan line on her body, and I wondered if she went sunbathing regularly. She must have, because her skin looked slightly more tan than when she was back in America.
"Your turn," she said in a matter-of-fact manner.
So I pulled my underwear down and exposed myself to the ladies in the room. It felt bizarre, but if my mom could do it, so could I. My biggest fear was that I'd somehow become erect. But what are the odds of that happening with my mother here? I thought.
Giavanna looked indifferent as we both stood there naked. Nudity was nothing to her. She must have seen hundreds, maybe even thousands, of naked bodies throughout her life.
If things weren't awkward enough, things became weirder when Giavanna approached us and pulled us closer together, as if a mother/son duo being naked together was nothing to be ashamed of.
Even more striking, she pulled us together, skin-to-skin. Yes, thanks to Giavanna's carefree attitude about nudity, I was now touching my mother's bare skin. We saw each other's naked parts in close detail. My eyes quickly took in her naked body; seeing her skin up close, seeing the shape of her breast, and looking at her hard nipples in detail.
Then our eyes made contact. It was hard to tell what mom was thinking. But she looked conflicted as our bare bodies touched for this artwork. Truthfully, I didn't know what to think myself. Who would?
Giavanna stepped back and made a 'hmmm...' sound as she looked at us. She was in a state of deep thought over the pose.
"Something's missing," Giavanna said with a dead serious tone and sharp eyes. "We need more sexuality. Always more sexuality. I need cum. Helen, I need you to cum. Stuart, make your mother cum."
"Is that really necessary?" my mother asked, completely flabbergasted.
"This will be my masterpiece. I always like to see passion between both models to set the mood. Nothing we haven't done before."
My mother kind of blushed at that comment. Had these two ladies orgasmed before, during, or after their art sessions together? Now wasn't the time to ask.
Then mom gave me another apologetic look. "Well, mister, I'm sure a stud like you has had plenty of hot coeds in college. You know what to do."
I was shocked by my mother's words, and the ease in which she said it. Looking in her eyes, she seemed open to it.
"Huh? Are you sure?"
She nodded. "Reach below and touch me. I'll tell you how I like to be touched. It shouldn't take long."
Further talk was useless. I could tell by looking at her eyes that she wanted me to do this. Plus she was breathing heavier. It was a surefire way to tell that she was aroused.
I reached below and brushed my fingers past mom's trimmed pubic hairs. I fully expected her to slap me, but that never came. Instead, she gasped and her body tensed. Oh, she was definitely enjoying this. Her body had more reactions when I touched her labia and rubbed around her clitoris. Her pussy felt hot and I could feel trickles of fluid on my fingertips when I touched her labia again. She was dripping.
"Rub my clitoris in circles," she said. "Two fingers. That should make me cum. Press hard and do it fast. That's how I like it."
Way too much information for any son. And I could tell that she was slightly embarrassed for revealing such information. But, the show must go on. This had to be done. She had to cum before we could start.
I followed mom's instructions and pressed two fingers hard against her clitoris. She had an instant reaction to this. Her body tensed even harder and her mouth opened so she could breathe more air. When I rubbed her pussy, she started to squirm. God, how unbelievable. I was making mom so very aroused. She was being pushed to the brink. With every rub, she was a step closer to reaching an orgasm, by my very fingers!
Most surprising of all, mom didn't seem to mind one bit. She simply accepted the fact that her son was going to make her cum. All this time spent around liberal artists had really changed her. For the better? For the worse? Who knows. The fact was, she was enjoying this.
Then, right on schedule, mom came. Her body tensed hard and her eyes widened. Her mouth sucked in a deep breath as she stiffened. Several seconds later, her body relaxed and I felt my fingers become wet as I reached lower. Even though she didn't ask, I brought my finger lower and felt her outer pussy; it felt so wet and inviting.
"Perfect," Giavanna said. "Now you're prepped. So is Stuart, I can see."
Mom looked down and saw that my cock was rock hard. She glanced up at me with a smile, and I simply blushed. But hey, who was she to judge? She was the one who just had an orgasm from my fingers.