Slut Moms Model Pt. 01

Alex Jordan had to hold his mother's hand during the last forty-five minutes of the flight into Curaçao.

The extreme turbulence and threatening storm didn't bother him. At nineteen years old, Alex just assumed that he was immortal and that nothing could happen to him.

It was his mother, Kristen, who was pale as a ghost and clutching the arms of her seat in a death grip.

"There hasn't been a hurricane in this area in fifteen years," Alex reassured her after a quick online search. "And that one was a Level 2. We'll be fine."

Kristen nodded, staring fixedly at the animated map on the seatback in front of her.

"Maybe next time, we take the charter with the photography crews and the other models," Alex reminded her. "They got here yesterday. They've already gone on ahead to the other island."

"I know." Kristen gave her son a weak smile. "But Elena and I do so like to stay together, and she loathes what she calls the 'cattle car.'"

Across the wide aisle of the first-class cabin, Elena Kuchen and her son Justin took the airliner's shaking and shuddering in stride. Ignoring the flight attendant's announcement to return seats to their upright positions for landing, Elena napped unperturbed behind a night mask. Justin gazed out the window, occasionally tapping out a reply to a text on his phone, looking bored by it all.

But then, as a glamour model at the top of her profession for over twenty years now, the commonplace perils of international travel were old hat to Elena.

Justin, two years older than Alex, had been accompanying his mother as a personal assistant for around two years. "Glorified gofer and vassal," he'd sniffed when Alex had asked him exactly what his duties involved. Alex expected he'd be trying to fill a similar role for his mother, for the first time. "Haul luggage about. Run around trying to find the right brand of mineral water in the right flavor in cities where we don't speak the language. Massage m'lady's feet."

That fit well enough with Alex's overall impression of Elena, based on short acquaintance: a bit entitled and picky about details, demanding a certain amount of pampering from those who surrounded her. Alex didn't doubt that she got all the attention she wanted, from both men and women. At forty, the fiery redhead was still a stone fox.

And Alex was still weirded out every time she spoke to him. That was partly the glamor of her celebrity, he supposed. He'd have to get used to that, given his own mother's rapid ascendance as a top-tier fitness model. But the feeling of weirdness was mostly because he had jerked off to so many of Elena's swimsuit layouts in sports and fitness magazines in the days before she'd befriended his mom. Being close to that delectable MILF flesh in--well, in the flesh--overwhelmed him.

He did his best to hide his reactions from Elena, of course, and certainly from Justin whom he needed to get along with for at least the next two weeks. And most especially from his own mother.

"What was that?" Kristen clamped her fingers around Alex's hand like a vise at the sudden bump and change in the plane's behavior as the landing gear deployed.

"We're landing," Alex reassured her. "We'll be on the ground in five. Come on, Mom, you have flown for assignments a couple of times."

"Never hit weather like this before," Kristen's clear green eyes met her son's, and she smiled wanly and shook her head. "Don't worry about me, Alex. I'm overwrought, I guess. This is the first real big location shoot that I've worked. Everyone's expectations are sky-high. I've got a lot riding on this trip. And I'm so glad that you agreed to come along and help out. More than you can imagine."

"I know." Alex did know how invested his mother had become in her unexpected new career. She confided in him almost as if he were a friend rather than her son. He was sure that she was more open with him than with his father. And spending time alone with his mother, away from Dad, excited Alex in ways that he did his best not to dwell on.

After all, how many guys his age had super-hot mothers who looked young enough to be their sisters?

Kristen Jordan had been a fitness nut for as long as her son could remember. Having competed in tennis and swimming while in school, she'd thrown herself first into aerobics and running and, later, weight training and cardio to maintain her health and youthful figure. Kristen had the long, smooth legs and high girlish ass of a woman half her age. Her waist was small and her stomach flat. From head to toe, her body was far more toned and supple than he remembered her being when he was much younger.

Alex figured that his mom needed every bit of that strength to maintain her posture while supporting the weight of her tits. Kristen was a 36F. Alex knew that with precision because of the text accompanying her pictures in the lingerie catalogs she'd posed for last year.

Alex had been furtively jacking off to those photos since the day that Mom had proudly shown them to him and his father.

Alex's father had briefly perused one of the catalogs that the agency had sent over to Mom, said "It's very nice, Dear," and put it back on the stack.

Alex had taken one to keep, to take back to college with him. "Gonna brag to my friends about my gorgeous mom, the fashion model."

His father had scowled. Mom had given him a hug and kiss and blushingly thanked him for the compliment.

And that pamphlet had kept him warm in his dorm room on many a cold Boston evening. Image after image of his mother posing in bikini briefs and lacy bras that barely contained her bountiful breasts, making love to the camera with expressions that were modest, fetching, and provocative all at the same time. The camera loved her. Alex started following his mother's career on the Internet, as well, which provided even more prime jack-off fuel.

He'd pumped out more loads thinking about his sexy mother and looking at her online portfolio than to all the porn chicks and cam girls on the web.

Just one more weird thing about his life these days. But all the weirdness felt too good to worry about it.

Now, though, he had to get through two weeks of living in close quarters with his mom and watching her run around in skimpy swimwear striking sexy poses for a magazine, without having her notice the effect that it had on him. And given his unusual size, down there, it was pretty damned noticeable.

And then, of course, there were all the other models doing the island shoot.

The plane touched down with a bump and a shudder. Kristen let out a long breath.

They spent an hour and a half clearing customs. "Did you see the texts?" Elena asked Kristen. "The damn storm has a name now, and the regionals are grounding all their flights for a couple of days as a precaution. Until they see where it's headed. We're stuck here for at least two days."

"Stuck on a Caribbean resort island for two whole days and nights," Justin said to Alex in a mocking whisper. "Oh no, whatever shall we do?"

Alex smiled at him. For the first time, Justin seemed almost chummy.

In four-inch heels, Elena stood just over six feet tall and her son still towered over her. He had her features but had inherited his powerful physique as well as his midnight complexion from his father. Elena had never married. "Don't need anyone's money, don't need anybody's noise." Her son was the offspring of her long-ago relationship with a Nigerian who'd played in midfield for FC Bayern.

"Cheryl's on top of it," Kristen said, looking at a text from their travel coordinator. "She's got us a last-minute booking at a place three miles from the airport."

"Nice that someone in the agency office can find their ass with both hands." Elena pulled Kristen aside for what looked like quite a conspiratorial, whispered conversation. After a couple of minutes, she waved to Alex and Justin and said, "Kristen and I are totally wiped out. Would you fellas please do the baggage claim thing and then meet us at the hotel? We'll send the cab back for you and pay him to wait."

"Sure thing," Alex volunteered. Justin glowered at him as they traipsed off together to the carousels.

"Don't be so eager to carry hod for her. She already has me as an indentured servant, she doesn't need to be auditioning an entourage."

"Uh, your mom?" In fact, Alex had jumped at a chance to demonstrate to his own mother that he could look after her.

"Who else?" Justin snorted. "How long can baggage take, forty minutes? But no, run on ahead and pay a cabbie extra. If you have money, you don't need to have much patience."

"You're pretty down on her. Why do you agree to work for her like this?"

"Because there are compensations. The main advantage of proximity to my mother is the frequent opportunity to score some supermodel pussy."

Justin caught the astonished look on Alex's face and burst into laughter. "And all those models, they're already over on the other island at the shooting location while we're stranded here to wait hand and foot on our mothers."

"Oh! Yeah," Alex quickly agreed. For whatever reason, Justin was talking to him now as if the two of them were best buddies. "But like you said, at least we're stranded in Paradise. Right?"

"Right. You and me, we go clubbing tonight, yah? Champagne, girls--hookers, if that's what you like. We expense it all. The agency doesn't challenge Mother's receipts, and she doesn't question me."

"Um, all right." Alex hadn't expected this and wasn't sure he wanted any part of it. At the end of the day, he was a middle-class kid from Connecticut heading into his sophomore year studying pre-law at a New England school. He'd never even had a passport until two months ago.

An hour later, when Alex maneuvered the hotel baggage cart into the luxury room he'd share with his mother for the next couple of days, water was running loudly in the bathtub and steam billowing out of the open ensuite door. But his mother was in the bedroom, her back to him, fiddling with something on the back of the big-screen TV. She came over to hold the door for him.

"There you are, honey--thank you so much!" Kristen stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss her son on one cheek. She'd changed into a short, white terry bathrobe bearing the hotel's dark red embroidered monogram and, as far as Alex could tell, absolutely nothing else but a towel turbaned around her blonde hair.

She padded back over to the TV, the bright crimson toenails of her pedicured feet sinking deep into the lush carpet with every step. "I brought the extra Wi-Fi dongle from home," she explained. "To stream from my phone. Elena says there's never anything she can understand on local cable down here. And really, what are you and I going to do alone here for the next couple of nights except watch movies?"

The agency office had done a good job finding them emergency accommodations. The room, like the rest of the hotel, was pretty damn swank. Through the steam, he could see that the ensuite bathroom featured an oversized, sunken tub as well as a separate glass-enclosed rain shower and dual washbasins of thick green glass. It was all done up in pale, veined marble, bronze fixtures, and light, polished wood. The sitting and sleeping areas were similarly luxurious.

Alex saw one problem. There was only a single king-sized bed.

"I'll take the couch," he volunteered. "Or the floor, I can do that."

"Huh?"

"Or, a place like this must have a foldaway they can bring up."

"Honey, don't be silly. Cheryl did her best, but this was all she could manage. A lot of flights are grounded and everything near the airport is filling up fast." Kristen blushed like a schoolgirl. "I'm pretty sure we can keep to our own sides of the bed for two nights."

It'd help a lot if you'd sleep in a burlap sack that reached to your ankles, Alex thought ruefully as his mother used her phone's flashlight to search for an HDMI socket on the back of the TV. The hotel robe rode all the way up her thighs to just barely cover her ass when she bent over the television table. The silky-smooth, evenly tanned flesh of her perfect legs rippled as her sculpted calves and thighs flexed. Do they make burlap sacks with padlocks?

Alex's cock hardened, stretching his jeans' front. Mortified that his mother might turn and see him, he busied himself unloading the hotel cart, doing his best to keep the suitcases low in front of his crotch as he lined them up in the foyer. He willed his body to behave, for his cock to go down. It didn't work. It never did.

"Ooo--damn it!" Kristen fumbled with the dongle and dropped it on the carpet. When she bent way over to retrieve it, the hem of her robe slid halfway up her ass. For a long, shocking second, Alex was in heaven.

There, nestled between two pert round butt cheeks that looked as if they belonged on a teenager's body, was his mother's pussy. Her mound was completely shaved, and the plump lips of her slit parted just the tiniest bit to reveal her moist, pink inner depths.

Alex's cock surged, and for a moment he thought he'd ejaculate without touching himself, just from the pressure of his shaft against his jeans and the vision of that perfect, beckoning fuck-hole.

"Christ!" He couldn't entirely suppress a lustful groan. Kristen straightened up and turned to him, errant gadget in hand.

"Are you okay, honey?"

"I-I'm fine!" Alex darted forward to snatch the dongle from his mother. "I-I'll take care of this," he stammered. "Y-you, you go ahead and take your bath. Relax."

"You are taking such good care of me." She peered at him closely, an expression of motherly concern on her lovely, finely-sculpted features. "Are you sure--"

"Yeah! Yes, I mean--totally. Totally fine. Just uh...you go."

Instead, his mother sat down and patted a space on the bed next to her for Alex. "Let's talk for a minute."

"Uh..." Alex sat down next to Kristen. She slid a slender arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Baby, I want to tell you how much I appreciate you. Not just agreeing to come along on this job, but, well, everything else."

"It's very generous of me. I'm getting to spend two weeks of my summer vacation on a Caribbean island surrounded by bikini models."

"Be serious. You know what I mean...when I first took that job as a photographer's assistant, you encouraged me all the way."

"You stayed home with me for ages," Alex pointed out. "I'm grown up and out of the house. What are you gonna do all alone in that big empty place?"

"Very much grown up." Kristen gazed deeply up into Alex's eyes. She patted and squeezed his muscular leg, a little high on the thigh for his comfort. He concentrated on slowing his breathing and not...getting...too...excited. If his mother noticed the effect that her closeness, the fragrance of her perfume, and her heat were having on him, he'd be mortified beyond belief.

"And when I met Elena on that one assignment and she convinced me to go in front of the cameras together with her, you were actually excited for me. Your father has had...a little more trouble with it all. With my absences and my independence."

"Dad'll come around. Anyone can see how good this is for you."

"It really, really is. I would never in a million years have thought of this as something I could do. Or even would want to do. But it's...I don't know, empowering. Energizing. It's woken me up to things about myself that I even can't describe." His mother's eyes grew misty, as if lost in a treasured memory. She glanced shyly down at the carpet, then back at him. "It's been the best thing in my life, ever. Except for you."

She stood up and leaned down kiss to Alex on the tip of his nose. "I really need a good, long soak to calm my nerves after that awful flight. You must feel even worse--settling me down, all that running around after my baggage. If it had been up to me I'd have waited for you at the airport, you know. I love Elena but she has all the patience of a show poodle."

"Those with money don't need patience," Alex quoted Justin.

"Nonsense. You and I know better, right? All the best things come to people who wait, or something like that." Kristen sorted through her luggage. "Did you see my make-up case, honey?"

"Um...black padded box with a strap? About the size of a toaster oven?"

"Yes!"

"Justin thought it was Elena's, and I didn't know any different."

"Damn." Kristen bit her lower lip. "It's got all my soaps and lotion and stuff. Look, could you run to their room real fast and grab it for me? I hate to ask you to do one more thing, but--"

"No problem, Mom. Where are they?"

"Two floors up. 523. There weren't any rooms closer together. I'll text Elena you're coming." Kristen sauntered toward the bathroom. "And I am going to indulge myself while you're gone. I'm so awful."

The last sight Alex had of his mother as he left was of her toned, bare shoulders and waist as she shucked off her robe at the rim of the tub. He swallowed hard and almost ran from the room, stopping just outside in the hallway to lean on a wall and catch his breath.

He knew what his plans were for the next two days, whenever his mother was out of the room. He'd be whacking off until his dick was raw, just to keep it under control.

No other outlet for his horniness for two whole days. Christ. Jesus Christ! And on top of everything else, there were moments when he almost thought that Mom was flirting with him. Teasing him with her nearness and availability. Which was...just not possible.

Was it?

He found Elena and Justin's room and knocked.

"Alex? Just a moment."

Elena flung the door wide open.

She stood there utterly, gloriously naked.

"Don't stand gawking in the hall, darling. Get in here and lock the damned door."

Elena Kuchen had reigned atop the modeling world since her late teens. Whether on the runway, glamour layouts, or, most recently, lingerie and swimsuit, she had the look that millions adored. The look that sold products.

Nearing forty, Elena could have retired long since and lived lavishly off the profits from her cosmetics line and fees for use of her name and image. But it had happened that as she had matured, so had the advertising industry's demand for more mature models.

Elena chose to work. She still liked the travel and adventure. She enjoyed the attention and the excitement.

She liked the constant easy access to young cock and fresh pussy.

She'd planned and looked forward to taking young Alex for some time. These two unexpected days of isolation together were fortuitous. She would make the most of them. Elena hated to wait.

He stood unmoving in the open doorway, staring dumbstruck at her. She pulled him into the room and threw the deadbolt.

"That's better. I really don't want every man who passes by that door barging in here, too. Not this minute, anyway." She waved her hand in front of Alex's face. "Hello? My God, please tell me that I'm not the first naked woman you've seen."

Elena spun on her heel and walked to the chest of drawers at the far end of the bedroom, smiling secretly to herself. She knew exactly how she looked crossing a room. She'd trod runways in Paris, Milan and Tokyo wearing little more than this, and displayed herself onstage in private performances exactly as she was now. She knew how her high, round ass rolled with each step forward, how her long gazelle's legs flexed and opened the gap that she still had between the tops of her slender thighs. When she retrieved Kristen's make-up bag from the dresser top and swiveled on the ball of her foot to face Alex, she pulled her shoulders back and thrust out her chest so that her huge tits swayed enticingly.

"This is what you want?" she teased.

"Yes! Uh, yes, ma'am."

"I had Justin pilfer it for me, at the airport. I figured your mom would send you up to get it. And then...I sent my son off on a little errand which I know will take an hour. Or two."