My Love Affair with My Son Pt. 03

Although I knew what he was going to say, the words crashed into my mind as I felt his lips on my neck, he was kissing it as we held each other. I kissed the side of his face. One of his hands was on my hip, the other was still on my knee, but it had moved higher. One of my hands was on his neck stroking his hair the other was resting on his waist. Our knees and legs were pressed together.

"I am sorry, I am so, so sorry," he whispered.

I felt so sorry for him. I cuddled him more firmly and he squirmed his chest against my boobs. We moved our faces and looked into each other's eyes. We smiled and I mouthed.

"Don't worry, we'll work it out."

We sat there in each other's arms for some time not speaking, but just holding each other. It was a very tender and loving yet guilty few moments. His hands ran very slowly up and down my back and mine were mainly on his head, face and neck.

After what must have been five minutes Peter said.

"Mum er Jayne please let me take some more photos."

"Peter," I whispered. "That's not really very wise is it?"

"No it's not, but none of this is, is it?"

We pulled away a little and looked at each. We both had tears in our eyes. He whispered.

"Please let's just do this and then we delete the lot."

"We have already gone too far."

"But we both wanted to, didn't we? You did didn't you mum, you did want to?"

Putting my hand on his cheek I whispered back between sobs. "I can't say that, it's awful what I have done."

"No, it's wonderful, it's the most wonderful thing I have ever done."

"Peter don't say that. It's a terrible thing a mother posing for her son to take such photos."

He got the camera and started running through the images.

"Look they are fantastic as you are. Please let's do some more."

Foolishly I hesitated as I looked at the images of me topless and caressing my breasts. As usual, seeing myself in a photo doing such things got to me. I felt a charge of arousal.

"Come on mum, what harm can it do now? I have seen the other photos. I have seen all of you. I even know that you have a landing strip don't I?"

"Peter don't' say that."

"Oh come on," he said running his hand down my bare arm and holding my hand. "You can't be prudish with me now, can you?"

"No I suppose not," I smiled as I sobbed.

"Then come on mum, just let's do this," he went on taking hold of the lapel of my blouse.

We both looked down at his hand. Slowly he lifted the other one and took hold of the other lapel. He slid both down and inch or so and held a button between one finger and thumb and the buttonhole in the other. It was obvious what he was going to do and I had very opportunity to stop him but I froze and felt totally unable to do anything to stop him. It was as though it was happening to someone else as the cotton material slowly opened up over my chest and breasts. Slowly, almost agonisingly slowly as we now looked at each other he opened the blouse and peeled it over my shoulders and down my arms.

"Lift your arms up mum," he croaked as we both felt the tension and eroticism of the moment. As if mesmerised I did and he quickly slid it off them.

"Oh Jayne, they are so beautiful" he whispered staring at my breasts in the tight acutely cut bra. "Lean forward."

I did and he reached behind me and started to undo the clasp. As with most men he fumbled with it and that brought home to me what he was doing. I realised he was taking me back to how we had been when I stopped the last session earlier. Obviously the motherly, respectable, wifely side of me wanted him to stop, but that other side, the one that toyed with incest, the side that had given me many erotic thoughts about my son screamed for me to let him continue. It would have been so easy to simply straighten up, move out of his reach and stop him. That is exactly what I should have done, but I didn't. I stayed leaning forward, I arched my back a little to ease the pressure on the clasp making it easier for it to be undone. Then I felt the pressure drop and my bra strap was undone. It was then that I did straighten up causing him to pull the cups away from my breasts.

"Oh mum," he groaned. "They are so beautiful."

I thought for a moment that he was going to cup them. I half wanted him to, but equally I wanted him not to. He didn't.

"Can we go on now?"

"We shouldn't Peter," I replied my heart pounding.

"Please let's, please Jayne, they are so beautiful they deserve to be on film.

Rather stupidly I guess I sighed. "Thank you darling and stroked his thick hair."

"Can we go to the bedroom and take some shots on the bed?"

That worried me. "No, I think we should stay here."

"Actually, that might be better with the light in here."

"Good. How do you want me?"

We resumed the posing with me topless. Again, now I was 'performing' I relaxed and even agreed to cupping, squeezing and caressing them. He must have taken thirty or so shots of my breasts from different angles.

"Jayne," he said suddenly.

"Yes love?" I replied taking my hands from my breasts and looking at him.

"Would you take your skirt off?"

That shook me, but I guess I had half expected it.

"Peter, I think we are going too far now."

"Please mum. After all I have seen you before in your panties."

"Yes, I know, but you shouldn't have seen those photos."

"I've seen you round the house in them as well and in your bikini, so what's the difference?"

I couldn't fault his logic, but tried.

"Peter that is totally different."

"Not really, and I am only going to photograph you then we'll delete them. Come on let's finish properly, please?"

I gave in partly to get this over, but also because I wanted to. I wanted him to see me and photograph me. I wanted to pose and be an exhibitionist. Most of all, I suppose, I simply wanted to see what it would be like naked in front of my son.

"Ok," I whispered as my pulse raced and heart pounded.

"Great thanks mum, you're terrific," he gushed just he did when he was a kid and I bought him a toy or something.

I undid the button and then slid the zip down.

"Hold it there," he said shooting my fingers on my zip. "Now do that slowly."

I did as he asked until it was all the way down and he could see the front of the black thong that matched the bra that was lying on the floor. Sliding my black, pencil skirts down as he watched my every move through the lens of his camera ranked alongside anything I had ever done for sheer eroticism. That was quickly surpassed, however, when I stood before him and the camera in just that tiny black thong and lacy topped, hold up stockings.

"Fuck me," he gasped.

"Peter," I said without thinking rather incongruously admonishing him for swearing.

"Sorry mum, but you look so amazing," he said shooting away.

I could see that his erection had returned and was rearing right up his stomach inside his jeans. He took shots from all angles and had me turning and bending and placing my hands on my body, particularly on my boobs.

As they always did when I posed like this, the atmosphere and what we were doing were getting to me. A heat was spreading from the pit of my stomach, my breasts felt so heavy, my skin was tingling and my entire body was alive with the sensations of acute sexual arousal. This was so wrong. I was losing control. I was becoming obsessed with my hunger for sex, my desire for satisfaction and my need to cum. I was now lusting for my son and I hated myself for it.

"Lay on your back please Jayne," I heard him saying.

I had absolutely no hesitation in doing what he asked in fact I didn't even query it in my mind for I enjoyed it. He walked around me taking shots from different angles as, without being asked, I stroked and caressed my breasts.

"Bend your knees mum."

I did that.

"Open them for me?"

I did and he took shots between my legs.

"God you are so sexy Jayne."

He took more and more shots.

"Will you touch yourself there please Jayne."

I wanted to very much, but I knew that it might make me cum. I also knew that it was obviously going too far.

"No Peter, I can't do that."

"Why not mum? You did in the other photos."

"That was different."

"Why was it?" he asked.

"It was for your father."

"So I'm your son."

"He's my husband."

"Yes?"

"Peter please, you know what I mean."

"That you had sex with him."

"Yes."

"And that the posing and photographs were part of that."

"Yes," I said very softly.

"And that by posing you were turned on," he went on in a low voice as he continued taking shots of me.

Although I was refusing to touch myself between my legs, I was still, almost unconsciously, stroking my breasts and brushing my fingers across my nipples.

"Weren't you Jayne?"

"Yes Peter I was."

"And your body was alive wasn't it mum?"

"Yes."

"And the more you posed the more aroused you became, didn't you?"

As his words floated into my mind so he excited me more and more. It was almost as if he was hypnotising me. I could hardly speak, so I just nodded.

"And the more you wanted sex, the more you wanted dad or the boudoir guy to make love to you."

"Yes," I whimpered adding. "No. Stop Peter, please, please stop."

"And because of that you touched yourself down there," he said in a husky voice quite clearly ignoring my pleas. Very obviously focusing the lens on where the soaked lips of my pussy were probably quite evident through the thin material of my thong, he went on. "You rubbed yourself didn't you mum, I saw the pictures of you doing it, they are awesome."

"Yes I did" I breathed as similar feelings to those I had when Marcus had photographed me roared through me.

"You rubbed your pussy didn't you?"

"Peter don't say that, please," I groaned.

"Why not? That's what you did isn't it?" he asked as I closed my legs.

"Yes."

"And then he fucked you didn't he?"

"Peter no, stop please," I moaned.

"He did didn't he?"

I didn't reply.

"One of them got you so turned by photographing you and making you play with yourself that I bet you were near begging him to fuck you, weren't you?"

Squeezing my tits and pinching my nipples as my son's words crashed into my sex addled brain I simply moaned.

"Open them again please Jayne?"

I had no resistance whatsoever now so I slowly opened my legs again.

"You rubbed your clit didn't you mum?"

I nodded.

"You played with your cunt and then let him fuck you, didn't you?"

"Yes, yes I did," I moaned, those evocative words from my son arousing me even more.

Involuntarily, without thinking and without really being aware of what I was doing, my hands left my breasts and I started sliding them down my body.

"You rubbed your cunt lips for dad didn't you?" he went on as my fingers reached my waist.

"No," I groaned.

"No what?" he asked.

"It wasn't for your dad."

"Who was it?"

"The boudoir guy.

"Did he fuck you?"

"No, no he didn't."

"But you wanted him to didn't you mum?"

"No, no of course not, oh fuck Peter yes maybe," I admitted feeling both enormously excited and very guilty.

"And the other guy mum?"

"What? What about him?" I asked.

"Did you want him too?"

"Stop Peter, please, please stop."

"No come on mum tell me, tell me," he repeated speaking louder. "Come on, did he fuck you, is that what happened?"

I didn't reply, I couldn't. Despite all he'd seen and all we'd done I couldn't bring myself to tell him that the other guy had asked to fuck me and I had let him. Instead, I slid my hand further down my stomach.

"Do it for me mum, do it for your son. Rub your clit for me."

It was as if my mind and my hands had been taken over by another force. I was absolutely powerless to stop. My fingertips found the waist of my thong.

"You finger fucked yourself for him, didn't you?"

I didn't reply, there was no point for my fingers had reached my pubic mound, but I nodded.

"You rubbed your clit and put your fingers up your cunt didn't you mum?" Peter went on continually taking photos of my hands and body. "Rub it for me now mum. Rub your cunt for me."

"Oh Peter," I groaned in frustration and excitement as I pressed a fingertip right on my clit. My body jerked with the fantastic feelings it gave me.

"Is it good, is it wonderful? Go on do it, do more, love yourself mum as you did with him."

I was gone, I was totally lost now. I was like putty in my son's hands. He had got me so my mind was now as aroused as my body. I rubbed my clit through the material as he took shot after shot of my finger and my face.

"Inside Jayne," I heard as if from a distance.

"What?"

"Put your hand inside. Get your fingers in your panties,"

With what was similar to a feeling of gratitude that he had suggested it I slid my fingers into the thong and right on to my clit. It was lovely.

"Make yourself cum Jayne, do yourself, fuck yourself for me," he grunted still shooting away.

He didn't say anything for a few moments as I gave myself up to those delirious feelings of extreme arousal.

"Take them off for me."

"No, no I can't," I groaned as I slid my fingertips along my lips.

Despite the fact that I was lying on my conservatory floor in just a tiny, black thong masturbating myself as my son photographed me, removing that last bastion of cover seemed to be a bridge too far.

"Please, I want to see you."

"You have seen me in those photos."

"I want to see the real thing."

"No."

"Yes, I have to."

"I can't Peter."

"Come on do it. Show me your cunt."

That word again, he was asking to see my cunt.

I stopped rubbing my clit and just lay there for a moment.

"Let me see it, let me see your cunt Jayne," he said putting the camera down. He knelt right alongside me, his leg touching my knee. "Let me take your panties off mum and look at your cunt. Please?"

They were some of the most erotic words I had ever heard. My son was asking to take my panties off and look at my most intimate place; in fact, the place where he had come from. That took any slight resistance I had away from me.

"Can I mum?"

I nodded and watched him take hold of the slither of silk at each side and start to roll them down. I lifted my bottom up to help him and then revelled in the incredible sensation I gained as my son pulled my knickers down my legs and off.

"Open your legs mum."

I did, slowly.

"Now raise your knees."

I did as he asked and lay there holding my tits as my son gazed at my bare, wet and open cunt.

"God, you have a beautiful cunt."

He picked up the camera again and took shots from a variety of angles but mostly up between my legs at my pussy.

"Rub yourself again mum," he went on moving behind me and out of view.

"Oh baby," I groaned as I rekindled those sensational feeling of rubbing my clit.

"I want to make you cum, will you do that for me as you did with him, mum?" he asked getting up and walking past my head and out of my view.

Even in my advanced state I couldn't bring myself to say yes, although as I was rubbing my clit with the fingers on one hand and my boobs with those on the other, the answer was pretty obvious.

"No, oh God Peter," I cried out stopping rubbing myself as he came back into view. He was naked.

"What's the matter, don't you like my body?" He asked walking beside me.

"We mustn't," I groaned, assuming that he wanted to fuck me.

"It's ok"

"We can't have sex Peter, we just mustn't."

"Don't worry mum," he replied kneeling beside me his fully erect cock level with my breasts. "I am going to do what you are doing."

"What?"

"Masturbate, come on let's do it together."

He started stroking his cock as I continued rubbing my clit and the lips of my pussy. I looked from his cock to his eyes and back again as we masturbated.

"Do it for me mum."

"Oh God no," I groaned, although I desperately wanted to. I wanted to feel him, feel his heat and hardness. I wanted to feel my son's erect cock.

"Please?" He sighed reaching out and taking hold of my hand. He placed it right on his erection. I had no resistance left, I gave in.

"Go on mum, wank me, make me cum," he moaned leaning forward.

He felt gorgeous. He was so hard, so warm, so smooth and so throbbing. I started to pump my hand up and down as I had with Richard several times.

"Oh yes. Oh yes Jayne that's amazing," he moaned as I felt his hand on my stomach. I stroked him faster and longer. I could feel the blood pumping in his cock, I could feel it throbbing and stiffening even more. I used both hands on him.

"Oh yes, I am near, so near," he groaned as he started to surge in and out of my hands as though it was a pussy.

I sat up a little to make it easier to rub him just as his hand slid down my stomach and onto my landing strip of pubes.

I realised that he was going to finger me. I also realised how wrong that was, but I could do nothing to stop him and I revelled in the new sensations I got as my son rubbed my clit.

"Mum, I'm am so near to cumming, are you?"

"Yes Peter, yes I am very near," I groaned hating myself as my son brought me close to an orgasm.

I felt his fingers leave my clit and slip downwards. I knew what he wanted to do so I opened my legs a little wider. The sensation as his fingers slid into me was unbelievable. I started to cum immediately and pumped his cock even faster.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh" he groaned as leaning forward and thrusting himself deep into the surrogate cunt formed by my hands he exploded. So much spurted out of him as I writhed my body on his fingers dragging every last piece of pleasure from them.

It wasn't until he slumped on the floor alongside me and I came down from my high that I realised that he had cum on my tits and between them with a few spurts hitting my chin and face.