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Subject: Title story: "A Model Son" Author: INCEST MAN 59402381
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Date: Sun, 13 Nov 2005 17:06:53 +0000
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A Model Son It's strange how an incestuous relationship, like one between a
mother and a son, could get started. Mine happened, not because I jumped in bed
with my son, but it progressed, all at once, from a quite innocent thought to a
full-blown realization. It started when my son, Jimmy, decided that he needed a
hobby. Jimmy had always been interested in all kinds of artistic things. One
day, he decided that he would become an artist, and he went out and bought all
kinds of supplies, like drawing pencils, pads of art paper, and even an easel.
He followed me around all day, pad in hand, drawing me washing the dishes,
knitting, ironing, and even vacuuming the floor. He drew rapidly, and he was
actually pretty good at it. He had taken a few art classes in school, and used
to sketch people in the park once in a while. Toward late afternoon, I took a
shower, and wouldn't have been surprised to find him sitting on the toilet as I
got out, drawing me as I dried off. The idea kind of aroused me on some level,
and I started to play with myself a little bit, thinking about him drawing me
naked. Of course, he wasn't sitting on the toilet as I got out of the shower. I
actually felt a little disappointed! I had been widowed for five years, and
hadn't even had a date in all that time. Jimmy's father had been quite a stud,
and I often fantasized about sexual things. I dried and put on a robe, and went
into the kitchen to make us both a glass of tea. He sat there at the table,
finishing his drawing. I wondered what he was drawing, and I noticed that he
covered the page with his hand as I passed by. As I put his glass of tea on the
table, he covered his drawing with another pad. "Well, you mean I can't see,
Jimmy?" I asked. He shook his head. I could see his face turning red. "Not this
one," he said, his voice choked a little, sounding thick and distant. "Why not?
You let me see all the others." "It's not for you to see." I reached down and
pulled his hand away, then moved the pad out of the way. The picture was of me,
all right, but I was nude. He had drawn me standing, fixing tea, at the stove,
totally naked. I liked it. "I don't quite look like that, Jimmy," I said with a
laugh. "I think my breasts sag a little more than that." His eyes widened, and
his gaze went to the contours of my tits beneath my robe. He shook his head and
said, "I don't think so." I backed about a foot away from him. Looking into his
earnest, pleading eyes, I reached down and undid my robe. I spread the robe
outward, standing there, looking like and feeling like a flasher. I giggled, and
pulled the robe all the way off. I stood there naked, letting my son see every
inch of my naked body. His mouth fell open, and his tongue darted out and licked
his lips. His hands didn't move he didn't pick up the pencil to draw. He stood
and came closer to me, so close in fact that I could feel his hot breath on my
nipples. That turned me on more than anything else ever had. The feeling of his
breath on my nipples could have made me orgasm, right then and there, if he had
kept it up. He backed away and picked up his pencil, glancing at my pussy. He
sat back down squirming in his seat a little. I could see the bulge growing in
his crotch, and I knew that he was getting a hard on. He began drawing me again,
his hands visibly shaking. He tried to sketch in my nipples, but he simply kept
erasing. His hands shook, and his breathing was in breathless, little, red-faced
gasps. He tried to act professional as I stood in the same pose, but it didn't
do his much good. He gave up and just looked at me. He stood before me again.
This time, his lips brushed my nipple gently, moving sideways across it. The
sensation of his lips against my nipple sent thrills of passion through me,
feelings I hadn't had in a long time. I knew that I should stop this but I
wanted him to touch me, I needed him to. He moved his mouth away from that
nipple and ran his tongue around the areola, then traveled between my tits, over
to the next one. He wrapped his lips around that nipple, moving his tongue
across it. He sucked it into his mouth, and the more he sucked on it, the more
erect it became. I could feel his hand on my other tit as I closed my eyes. He
moved his hand down my stomach to my pussy, and his hand was shaking as he moved
his fingers across my virtual forest of hair. His touch was gentle, exploratory,
almost fearful. I moaned lightly in his ear, and he backed up. "Do you like
that, Mom?" I nodded. I pulled him by the hand a led him to my bedroom. I helped
him off with his clothes. When I pulled his shorts down, his strong young dick
sprang straight up into the air and hit his belly making a slapping sound, then
settled down to a slightly different angle, curving toward his navel, and
slightly to the right. I bent and kissed his nipples, then got on my knees ...
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