Michael

"I said they were for me, my private thoughts on paper, which you have now intruded upon and laid bare." He was a beetroot red, and could not look at his mother or the picture.

A young woman was depicted, sitting crossed legged on a stool. She was wearing a corset, which, as she was sitting, was pretty much forcing all of her breasts out of it. The hook and eye fastenings, ran all the way down the front and lead to a very lacy hem about the entire corset, which looked very much like an extremely short skirt. From beneath the lace, the suspender straps ran, and on one side, they currently held tightly onto a black silk stocking. The sheen on the stocking was beautifully rendered. And Leigh wondered how Michael could have injected that much detail, making the stocking look incredibly real. Everything in the drawing was perfect. The young lady held the other stocking in her hand as she smiled a rather sexy smile, obviously directed at Michael.

"This picture is very beautiful Michael. She is a very attractive woman and extremely sexy. It is like a story unfolding before my eyes. Has she just taken that stocking off, or is she putting it on? Is she disrobing, or is she dressing for her lover? Either way, it looks like those full breasts aren't going to be staying in that corset for long."

"Mother!"

"Oh really Michael. Isn't that what you want? People being so absorbed by your drawing that they get taken in by it, and want to know more? Is this Dominique too?"

"Yes it is, and you are right, yes I do want people viewing my pictures to find them stimulating."

"Has she seen this?"

"No, I don't think she would appreciate me manipulating the picture I had taken of her in this sitting."

"I think you might be surprised." Leigh responded, thinking of how she felt, when seeing the drawings he had done of her, based on her photographs. "How was she dressed then?"

"Oh, naked apart from a small pair of white panties I think."

"What, you added all that extra detail yourself?"

"Yes." He smiled, feeling less awkward when talking about his deep interest in drawing, and drawing lingerie at that. "It's what I like to do."

"Yes, I am beginning to understand it is. But unusual in one so young."

"Why so?"

"Well men of your young age, are usually trying to see women, very much out of their clothing, rather than putting them into it. Even if it is lingerie. And doing it without any real reference, I'm impressed. And I guess you get enough nakedness during your classes, anyway?"

"Yes, well it is strange, that a women will pose naked without a problem, but if you ask them to wear lingerie, they tend to look at me like I'm a pervert, or that I am trying to exploit them."

"Not all women feel like that Michael. Some women enjoy wearing lingerie for themselves."

"Well maybe I just haven't met these women."

"Have you no close girlfriends at the moment?"

"Yes, plenty, but I would never have the courage to ask them to pose naked for me, let alone in lingerie."

"And what about the lovely Dominique? She is used to posing for you naked, could you not ask her?"

"Well I might. But I would have to build up some courage first. She did say she would pose for me, privately."

"What here? You sure she was talking about that sort of posing Michael." She smiled at her son to let him know it was a joke.

"Mother, I hardly know her. Anyway, it is no real hardship, adding the lingerie after I have drawn the model naked."

"Umm," Leigh suddenly crossed her legs. In doing so, she appeared to be unaware that she had caught her dress in the process, putting extra strain on the buttons near the hem. They promptly gave way and popped open. Michael captured everything. From the swish of her stockings, to the strain on the dress, to the now visible stocking top, and a few millimetres of golden, bare flesh beyond. He gasped, quickly turning away, so that he did not give his mother a hint that she had exposed her stockings to him. He turned the next page of his pad.

"This is Dominique again isn't it? She has very beautiful breasts Michael, assuming there is no, artistic license here? But supposing there wasn't, it still amazes me, that you can stare at them for the length of time that you must have, and not be affected by it. I know I couldn't."

Michael did not answer, instead he just turned the page saying, "It was a short sitting."

The next picture was of an older man, pushing against an immovable object. Michael had not scrimped on an ounce of detail. Including the man's flaccid, but not small penis. The next few pages were working sketches of action poses, both male and female, but mostly of muscle-bound men.

Hoping that his mother was not paying attention, Michael skipped the next couple of drawings, but she was not fooled.

"Hey!" Leigh exclaimed, leaning forwards and uncrossing her legs. Show me all mister!"

"Mum, really? Haven't you seen enough for now?"

"Yes, really."

There were a number of reason why Michael was now struggling. The first was, that he obviously knew what he was about to reveal to his mother. The second, was what his mother was now revealing to him. In her last move, another button had come undone, and her dress had fallen away from her legs to reveal the most gorgeous set of thighs, tightly pressed together. Both stocking tops were fully visible along with the golden flesh of the tops of her thighs, bisected by the suspender straps, which currently were raised, as they were not under any tension at the moment. One more button, he thought, and her panties would be visible to him as well.

He was a young, virile man. And on seeing the very erotic, lingerie that his mother was wearing, he quickly found his body overcoming his embarrassment and awkwardness. Instead replacing it with a show of force, that at any moment, would be very evident to his mother. To distract her from seeing, he turned the page.

Dominique was resplendent on what looked like a goat-skin rug, on a hard wooden floor. She had on a black suspender belt and black stockings, which Leigh immediately recognised to be hers. But otherwise, Dominique was essentially naked. However, about her body, ropes were tied, fastened about her breasts, her arms, her thighs and waist. Criss-crossing her with intricate patterns. Some of the rope ran down between her legs, or more precisely between her vaginal lips, resting tightly upon her clitoris.

"Oh my God Michael! I don't know what to say?"

"Perhaps it would be better if you didn't then. I'm already wishing you hadn't forced me into showing you these drawings, it is like you are intruding into my private thoughts, seeing these."

"I can understand that. And you now have me wondering what other private thoughts you have in there, just waiting to be put to paper?"

"I'm not sure I know myself."

"It's....it's very erotic isn't it?"

"Yes. It is supposed to be."

"And the ropework?"

"It is called Shibari. It is Japanese rope bondage."

"Bondage." Leigh repeated as if to herself. "Have you done any of this in real life? I mean Dominique isn't actually....tied like this, with the ropes parting her...pushing on her cli..."

"Good God no mother. I have not shown her this or anyone, except now you. I have practised many knot techniques, but have never tied someone. A lot of the tying can be done to yourself, that is the art of this form of bondage."

"So have you tied up yourself then?"

"A little, yes."

"Oh..." Leigh turned over the next page. "Ooooh Michael!"

Michael saw the almost involuntary clamping together of his mother's thighs and saw her flush about the neck, upper chest and face. "Please just move on mum."

"But you have drawn this exquisitely. How have you done it without any real reference?" Leigh looked at the very detailed vagina before her. Her insides were churning, her genitals were on fire and she knew without looking that her nipples were rock hard once again, and would be very visible to Michael, through the light dress. She caught Michael surreptitiously dragging his robe into his lap. She wondered if the picture was having a similar effect on him too, but within her core, she was rather hoping he was reacting to the stimuli that she was inducing. For some reason, it made her smile.

Michael had drawn the woman's delicate fingers, lightly touching the hood of the swollen clitoris, whilst three fingers of her other hand, were knuckle deep in her vagina. The swirling labia, the puckered anus and the wetness of the flesh and the fingers of this woman were drawn superbly.

"It appears like you have drawn Dominique at her most vulnerable? It is very well done Michael. And although I am looking at a vagina, and a woman masturbating, I have to say, I don't feel like I am looking at pornography, it still feels like art to me. Perhaps that is because it is drawn, rather than a photograph or film? I find it very....stimulating. In the cerebral sense of course." Again she hoped that she had covered the lie. She knew very well, that Michael's reference for this picture was of course her. This was one of her erotic pictures. She had taken it and sent it to one of her lovers at the time.

They were both looking at her pussy, her fingers and her wetness. She remembered how excited she was when she took the picture and that she had come immediately after sending it. Now she was seeing herself again, but this time it was with her son. He had seen a picture of her masturbating, of her sexual juices, of her finger fucking. The effect on her was exponential. She released the pressure on her thighs, shuddering in what she knew to be a mini orgasm. She should have been ashamed. She should have been angry at Michael for taking her pictures, for looking at them, and for using them in his drawings. But instead she felt flattered, pleased that he found her attractive enough to want to draw, but she also felt other things. Things that a mother should not be feeling or thinking about. Not with her son. But to her, knowing that he had seen her fully naked and in certain acts of sexual play, it felt like only a small step forwards, rather than the giant leap it should have been. A leap that she should not be considering taking in the first place.

Michael himself was now fully flushed. Before him was a representation of Dominique, her legs open as she masturbated. Her black stockings, taut about her tight smooth thighs. Her breasts topped with large erections, rising about the flat plain of her stomach, had all been drawn with such fine detail. But this was not Dominique, it was his mother, he had just added Dominique's face in. He knew that at any time his mother would make the connection and he waited, dreading what she would say.

He looked sheepishly at her. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly. He could not fail to miss the swollen nubs of her nipples and how they poked at the material of her dress, he knew enough about the female anatomy to know this was not because she was cold. He was suddenly sure that she knew what, or rather who, she was looking at. Instead of his feeling of embarrassment and awkwardness, reducing his ardour though, his erection seemed to grow stronger than it had before. So much so, that he had to adjust himself again. His efforts however, were to no avail. With only a dressing gown and a pair of boxers to hide his embarrassment, he was on a hiding to nothing, his cock was too large and conspicuous, to want to be hidden away.

But it was not surprising really. His mother was evidently getting turned on by the fact that her vagina was on display, as drawn by him. They were both looking at it and they both knew. Along with that, was the fact that she was showing him her very attractive legs encapsulated in her sexy white stockings. Stockings that he had covertly undone her dress earlier to see, and that were now fully on display for him. And then there were her nipples, commanding his attention, something he was finding very difficult to disregard. And it was about to get worse.

"Have you actually seen a girl masturbating, Michael?"

"Mother!"

"Sorry darling, that question was a bit personal. Do you like to watch a girl masturbating, might be a better question?"

"No I have not seen a girl masturbating, not in real life."

"Ah, but you have whilst watching porn?"

"Mum, please."

"Look Michael, I only want to show you that I am in no way ashamed of you for doing these drawings. Shocked a little, yes. Offended, no. I mean, this picture has a certain beauty about it, don't you think?"

"I think the subject matter is very beautiful, very enticing and deeply sensual yes."

"Yes Dominique is beautiful." She found herself suddenly hoping that he was actually talking about her, after all, the picture this was taken from was her, all her.

"Yes," he said, watching his mother's reaction and seeing her face fall a little. "But she was not the main study for this piece...mother." She looked up at him, and they both understood in that moment what was being discussed, They both knew the picture was based on Leigh, they both knew that Michael's comment had been about her, or specifically her pussy.

"Ooh." She said with a knowing smile. "So just how much have you been studying this subject, and are there any other drawings I should see?" Leigh turned the page, distractedly, not now really interested in the lovely drawing of Dominique pulling up a stocking over her long lithe leg. "Which reminds me," she said, feeling that the time was now right. She slipped her pert bottom off of the stool and walked into the utility room. Coming back seconds later with a pair of black, silk stockings draped in her hands. "I was hoovering in your room and sucked these up. They must have been under your bed?" She left her question unasked.

Michael was already beetroot red, he could not blush any more if he tried, and it was evident that his mother was enjoying teasing him. "I'm sure I have a pair just like that somewhere, though have not seen them for a while?" She went on.

Michael found his voice. "Yes, they are yours. I saw them in the wash and...took them." He put his face in his hands and spoke through his fingers. "God this is all so embarrassing."

"No it isn't Michael. Honestly, if you want to wear my stockings, I'm fine with that. Wearing my underwear, well I might find that a little tougher to understand." She smiled sweetly at him.

"You looked in my box under the bed, didn't you?"

Leigh sat back down and swivelled the stool so that she faced Michael directly. Her dress fell away from her legs again only this time, she began to swing side to side on the chair, her knees rubbing along his thigh and rucking up his dressing gown, until her silken knees were actually rasping against the bare flesh of his thigh. What is more, as he looked down, at certain points of her swing, her legs were parting enough for him to see her little white panties. She appeared not to notice, but what she was doing, was having a very profound effect on him.

"Yes Michael, I'm afraid I did. I was rather shocked to find some of my panties, a suspender belt, some more of my stockings, and some new stockings. Do you like to dress in women's clothes, my clothes Michael? Look, I'm not angry as such. If you had wanted to have some of my stuff, you should have asked, I have private stuff as well you know?"

"Then we are both guilty of forcefully exposing those secrets aren't we mother?"

"Well, I suppose we are at that. However I just don't know how I feel about you putting on my lingerie. I take it the motive is sexual?"

"Look I'm sorry for breaking your trust. But although I am guilty of taking some of your lingerie, it was not for the purposes of wearing it. Though I have touched them to my face, I do find silk very erotic."

Leigh shivered almost imperceptibly, as another mini orgasm raided her senses, ransacking any sensible thinking. Her thoughts of Michael holding her panties to his face, getting the better of her. She crossed her legs, and in the tight confines she had created, this added pressure to her clitoris and vulva, at the same time making the pressure against Michael's thigh even greater. "Oohhh Michael." She groaned in what was intended as exasperation, but in reality was more of a groan of pleasure.

"I have put on one of your stockings, so that I can capture the light refraction. The way that the silk reacts, I find it to be very sexy."

"Yes," Leigh could not help herself from panting, "I can see that." It wasn't just her clothes that were unravelling.

"So I have been using your clothes for reference. The different styles of panties, the suspender belt and it's lacy patterns the straps, the clips, and of course the stockings, the stocking tops etc."

"I see.... Umm." Leigh was on the verge of coming again, only this one, was not going to slip by unnoticed and she knew it. Crossing her legs was causing her all sorts of problems, so she uncrossed them again, and in doing so, gave Michael a full flash of her panties, as with legs slightly splayed, she continued to rub the length of his thigh with her knees, and on each sweep, revealed more and more of her panties to him.

Michael was confused, she must be aware what she was showing him, surely? Yet she seemed to be unconcerned by it. What did that mean?

"Stockings are a very erotic form of lingerie, I would agree Michael."

"I love to watch a woman, putting them on. From start to finish, the whole process is such a turn on. Yet another thing I have watched on the internet, not having had the courage to ask a model to wear them for me."

"Yet they are willing enough to pose for you naked?" Leigh could hear the rasping of the silk upon her thighs as she moved, and was aware that her movements had once again unsettled Michael's robe, to the degree, that she could see in the most part what lay beneath. She was unaware, but her mouth had fallen open, as it was very apparent that Michael was not her little boy any more and he appeared to be growing bigger by the second, substantially so. His drawing that she had seen the day before, suddenly looked very lifelike. She tried to drag her eyes away, but at the last moment, she saw Michael's cock, pulse powerfully, she held her breath as she watched entranced. Not considering how inappropriate she was being. "I see," she said, having been wholly distracted, and losing the flow of the conversation. "It is nice to know that you are not a cross dresser, or that you are using them for the purposes of masturbation."

"Mother!"

"Why, you're not are you?"

"Mother, I don't ask you about that kind of stuff?" He turn over the page to distract her from the line of questioning. The poses were college based and nothing there of interest to Leigh, her mind and body were now elsewhere.

Leigh could not stop fidgeting. She had not had a proper orgasm for quite a few months; the two small ones she had had, merely wetted her appetite for more. The thought that her son might be the reason for this sudden need, she found, rather shocking. At the same time, she realised there was very little she could do about it, particularly when a part of his anatomy was pulsing vigorously before her, just inches from her stocking covered knees.

She knew that her dress buttons had opened, and understood she was displaying her stockings and much of her thighs to Michael. She also knew that those same stockings were currently rasping up and down on Michael's thigh and that they were both deriving pleasure from it. She looked down at her large, hard nipples and her panting chest. And knew that despite her son's inexperience with sex. He would absolutely know the state that she was in, a state that she had pretty much instigated, a state that deep down, she had no idea how she was going to deal with. She was just letting things unfold, and knew this was very dangerous territory.