I****tuous Glamour Photography free porn video

I remembered it so well. It was as clear as if it was just yesterday. Each moment, every move and gesture even the words we used flooded into my mind.

"Undo the buttons on the cardigan Cat."

I did and he took several shots as I moved around showing increasing amounts of my breasts.

"Take it off now."

I did. More clicks as he took photos of me removing the dark blue, cashmere cardigan.

"Turn round."

Click, click, click was all I heard as I turned my back to the camera.

"Bend forward, let me get that bum."

I was wearing a black, pencil skirt that ended just above my knee. It was very tight indeed round my hips and buttocks.

"Further, bend more hold your ankle, look round to me."

I leaned forward my champagne blonde, shoulder length hair tumbling over my face. My bum, which some say is my best feature was being digitally immortalised.

"Ok Cat, now the bra."

I straightened up and turned to look at him. Fixing my gaze on the camera lens I removed the black lace, see-through acutely cut bra very slowly knowing he would photograph every movement. My coral pink, medium sized nipples were, naturally, erect and as hard as acorns

"Fuck me that looks so good" he said as I stood there in the tiny, net shorts, which formed a slim band of black round my hips and the black, lacy top holdups.

"Lie on the floor" he said indicating the cream, thick pile carpet of his bedroom.

I lay on my back.

"Spread your arms." I did. "No wider, like as if you are being crucified. I want to see all of your tits."

He took several shots in gradually greater close up of my breasts. He knelt beside me his knee almost touching my hip. I was extremely worked up and could see the bulge in his jeans that indicated that he felt the same. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but it was too soon for that.

"God your tits look great."

I smiled. "Maybe that's because they are great."

"Mmmmm probably the reason" he said rubbing the end of the lens across my nipple.

"Lie on your front, spread your legs, raise yourself up, kneel" he ordered taking shot after shot as I moved around. "Ok on your back again. Now hold your tits and push them together. Imagine my cock is between them as it will be very shortly."

*

I do have quite large tits. 'An ample handful' as my husband describes them or 'D going on DD' as the seamstress at Janet Reger advised me as I had them measured when I was buying some hugely expensive bras.

My breasts looked even larger in the photo. I was lying on my back on the floor wearing just a pair of black net shorts and black, lacy top holdups. My hands were holding my bare breasts pushing them together and pinching the nipples at the same time. My eyes were half-closed, my mouth was slightly open and I looked as if I was about to cum. Remembering the shot I recalled that indeed I was about to cum and did so very shortly after.

I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I had no comprehension how it had got there. I couldn't work out why this photo of me was on my son's memory stick. I had booted up the PC that I shared with the k**s and clicked on a folder believing it to be the last I had used. Wrong. It was the last my eighteen year old son had been looking at. And there was me in nearly all my glory!

I clicked a few more times, then more and more quickly as my panic increased. He had loads of photos of me. It could well be that he had my entire collection.

There were some where I was fully clothed, loads where I was undressing, even more of me in underwear. Many were of me naked, there were numerous shots with me holding my breasts and some where I was masturbating. There were shots of me with my fingers on my clit and inside me and shots of me cumming. There was even shots of me sunbathing in the garden and swimming in our pool. I didn't remember those and assumed that Peter had taken them without me knowing. He was, like his father quite interested in photography.

My husband Richard and I used photography as part of our sex life. After twenty years of marriage one's desire for the other often reduces. In my case it wasn't a reduction in desire for sex, I wanted that as much as I always had, it was deterioration in my sexual fancying of my husband. He's a lawyer and very conservative. He rarely tries anything new in life in general and sex in particular. In addition he works murderous hours when in London, rarely getting home before nine and he travels a lot, at least seven nights away every month, usually in New York.

I had contemplated an affair numerous times. I had also thought of trying to find a toy boy. I didn't want to part from Richard and mess up my son and daughter, but I needed more than the cursory one or two fucks a month in our marital bed that he now provided.

To an extent, his suggestion of him photographing me overcame, well at least temporarily, the problem. After being very reluctant when he first promoted the idea three or so years ago, I quickly got used to it and began to enjoy it. It played to a latent exhibitionist tendency in me and it got both of us very worked up; the camera became my lover, the lens my own personal cock. We rarely finished a session without writhing around on the floor fucking each other's brains out. It certainly helped our sex life, well for a while.

The portfolio we had built up over the years also became a valuable aid to masturbation, certainly for me and so he explained for him when he was overseas in his hotel rooms.

But now my eighteen year old son had all the photos.

'Fuck' I thought what can I do now?'

*

Peter was waiting to go to university. As was the fashion with many young people he was taking a gap year. He'd travelled throughout India and South East Asia and had been at home for a couple of months before leaving for Peru, Chile, Argentina and Brazil in the next few days.

Richard was, as fucking usual, in New York and my daughter was at a friend's parent's house in Southern Spain for a couple of weeks. I knew Peter would be home soon and I felt terrible.

'What the fuck should I do?'

Should I ignore it? Should I confront him now or later, tell Richard, maybe phone him right now and ask his advice? Maybe it was best to ignore it, but how could I?

How had he got them? Well he is amazing with IT so I guess it wouldn't be that difficult and neither Richard nor I are that IT literate other than with Word and Excel. The key questions were: Why did he have them and what did he do with them?

Maybe he sells them I thought smiling as I visualised the headline 'Public schoolboy sells porn pics of his mum.'

As I was increasingly doing when I felt under pressure or the loneliness of a long distance traveller of a husband got to me, I poured a drink; vodka and tap water with a squeeze of lemon. I felt so nervous. I wasn't sure that I had the guts and fortitude to do anything. On the other hand I knew that I had to.

Peter was very much a man's man. Good at most sports he was just over six feet tall with a lean, muscular body. His longish blonde hair, blue eyes and angular featured face, even if I say it myself, made him very good looking. He also had a strong personality, being fairly outgoing with a fair amount of charisma; well that at least is what the 'girls' at the tennis and golf club told me.

When I had my fantasies, usually in bed alone when Richard was away, of having sex with a toy boy, it was usually my son's face and body that came into my mind first. When that first started a couple of years ago I thought nothing of it. However, when I masturbated thinking of being fucked by a young guy, I had to work hard to push Peter from my mind. I didn't always succeed.

Like many mothers I had feelings about my son that I knew were wrong and would never happen, but I couldn't stop them and they wouldn't simply go away. Maybe it's completely normal to imagine having sex with your son, I often wondered.

I had to confront him I concluded as I finished the first vodka and poured another. But how? What can you say? I couldn't reprimand him for having them for, from his perspective they shouldn't exist. It was Richard and I who were really in the wrong. If there were no photos then Peter would be in the clear.

I flicked through the photos. God there was so many. They brought back such memories. And even with the prospect of having to talk to my son about such a difficult situation I found myself becoming turned on as I looked at myself. That also worried me. That I could look at photos of myself a forty something year old woman in various stages of undress and become aroused, is weird, isn't it? But that is what happened as I looked at my bare breasts, my bum in slithers of black lace, my landing strip of pubic hairs, my hands on my 'quite big tits,' wearing the variety of underwear that I bought specially for those sessions and at my fingers between my legs. I felt so wanton, but also immoral for it was wrong wasn't it? Mothers and women my age shouldn't behave like that should they?

I won't say anything I was thinking. I'll just ignore it, let sleeping dogs lie. I'll tell Richard and see what he says. I knew, though, that he would confront Peter and have it out with him. How he would do that I had no idea, but I knew he would. I equally knew that I couldn't let that happen. That was unthinkable, it was impossible and it would be disastrous for the shots of me in those tiny, black lace boyshorts and lacy top holdups had not been taken by Richard.

*

Shit there he is, I thought hearing the buzz as he opened the electronic gates to the driveway. I was in the family room on the front of the big, horrible six-bedroom Victorian pile Richard had inherited from his grandparents. I hated it. There was only one room that I liked and that was the conservatory I'd had put on the back. It looked out over the grounds down to the pond. It was where I worked doing my part time editing for the publishing firm my family once owned, writing erotic stories for Literotica and reading and composing emails with people who sent feedback to my Lit submissions. It was also where I most frequently masturbated lying back in the green leather, office chair or flat out on the Chesterfield.

Peter got out of the Mini we had bought him for gaining great A level results. I looked at him, my heart almost missing a beat at how good he looked and at what I had to do. I won't be able to, I told myself. You have to another part of me insisted.

I heard his key in the lock and he walked in. He was wearing blue jeans and a white Abercrombie polo shirt, which was not tucked in. Both were fashionably tight.

"Hello mum."

"Hi darling, how are you?"

"Good, what's for dinner, it's just you and me isn't it?"

"I haven't decided yet" I replied, dinner being the furthest thing from my mind. "Yes it's just us."

"Good."

"Why good?"

"Because I like it when we're on our own and we can chat" he replied looking deep into my eyes, something I had noticed he did more frequently recently.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" I asked him

"Yes please"

"Go into the conservatory, I'll bring it through."

*

"Oh sorry mum" he'd said a few months ago, when he walked out of his room to go to the airing cupboard to get a towel. He was naked.

"Oh yes, oh yes" I heard from his room a few weeks later. That was followed by a deep groan. He's masturbating I realised smiling. I had no idea then what he was masturbating over. Now I had my suspicions.

It was the start of summer and Peter had just finished his exams. I heard, or thought I did, the click of the camera on his phone. I was lying on my front on a sunbed by the pool. I was wearing a bikini and I'd undone the bra. "Is that you Peter?" I called out lifting up a bit, holding the bra against me and turning.

"Yes, home earlier than I expected" he explained.

I sat up holding the bikini top against my boobs. He was staring at me and sat down on a chair by the table. I couldn't put the bra on without exposing my boobs so I just sat there hoping he would go away. He didn't. After a few minutes I got up still holding the white bra against my breasts and went inside. Once in the kitchen I quickly put the bra on. He followed me in.

"Sorry if I disturbed your little topless sunbathing" he said pointedly staring at my breasts. That gave me a rush of embarrassment tinged with arousal and I may have blushed.

Just a few days later I was sitting at the breakfast table in my dressing gown leaning forward reading The Guardian. I hadn't heard Peter come downstairs until he coughed. I looked up at him smiled and said. "Good morning Peter."

"Hi mum," he replied staring at the neck of my dressing gown.

I looked down and of course it had gaped and my left boob was uncovered almost to my nipple. We stared at each other for a moment or two until I adjusted it.

It was only a few weeks later when I came home early from tennis. I let myself in and walked to the conservatory where the PC was that I shared with Peter and my daughter. He hadn't heard me and I saw from where I approached him side on that he was staring intently at the screen. As I got nearer he heard me and quickly clicked the mouse changing from whatever he had been looking at.

"Hi mum, you ok" he asked sounding nervous.

"Yes darling having fun?" I asked for some reason looking at his waist.

He was wearing shorts and he had a very obvious erection. I gulped and walked out into the kitchen.

Now, as I left that kitchen with his glass of wine and my vodka I wondered if he had been looking then at what I had left open on the PC now?

*

I had decided what to do. I had to broach it. I didn't dare get Richard involved so it was all down to me.

I went and stood by the desk with the PC. I was wearing white, pedal-pushers that were cropped just beneath my knee and a black, lowish cut, short sleeved silky top. It wasn't very tight but did show the outline of my breasts quite clearly. Peter was sitting on the green leather Chesterfield facing me. He was looking at me.

Plucking up all my courage I said, very tentatively. "Peter we have to talk."

"Sure, what about?"

"This" I said clicking the mouse so a photo of me in a white bra and panties with my hands behind my head came up on the screen.

"Oh shit" he said. "Have you er.......?"

"Yes I have looked through the whole file."

"Bugger it."

"Why have you got them?" I rather inanely asked.

"I just have."

"How did you get them?"

"I was checking some other photos and the PC referred to another set of photo folders. I clicked on it and there you were."

"Oh God. What have you done with them?"

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Just that."

"I don't understand" he said quietly keeping his face down and not meeting my eyes.

"Have you shown them to anyone?" I asked nervously as I sipped my vodka.

"No of course not, why would I?"

"I don't know. I don't know why you copied them do I?"

"Well I could ask you the same couldn't I mum?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well why have you got them?"

"Never mind."

"And I could ask who took them?"

"Your father."

"All of them?"

"Look Peter, this is not for you to interrogate me you know."

Like me, my son has a sharpish wit and a quickish, but not violent temper. He hit back.

"But you can me."

"Yes you have something that belongs to me. In fact in a way you have stolen it, haven't you?"

He looked a little deflated and tried to cover that by finishing his wine. "May I have another?"

"Of course" I said finishing my second vodka.

"I'll get it" he said getting up as I leaned forward to take his glass.

"It's ok I'll do it" I replied as we paused in those positions for a moment or two. Naturally my top gaped and I knew that most of my breasts and bra would be on show to him. Our gazes caught as he dragged his away from the gaping sweater.

"Sorry"

"What?"

"I was staring"

"Yes I know." Feeling a little more relaxed and slightly more in control now that the subject had been broached I smiled and added. "But then you have seen it all before haven't you?"

He smiled back as we walked to the kitchen together. "You mean the photographs?"

"Yes of course, what else?"

"Nothing and yes I guess I have."

We got to the kitchen. I took the wine and vodka from the fridge and filled his glass and poured a healthy measure into mine that I topped up with water. We stood close together alongside a work surface.

"So do I get an answer Peter?" I asked my head swimming a little from the alcohol and lack of food for I hadn't been able to eat lunch after finding the photos.

"To what?" He replied quite coolly.

"Why you have them and what have you done with them?"

"Look I didn't go looking for them, there were just there so I copied them and I have done nothing with them."

"Nothing, so why keep them?"

"Mum it's awful."

"What do you mean?"*

"It's complicated and awkward."

"Well nobody said having personal and intimate photos of your mother would be easy."

"No of course not, but you won't understand."

"Darling I am just about the most understanding mum in the world. Try me."

He sipped his wine as quite clearly he contemplated what to say. He looked up and our eyes locked, but he couldn't hold my gaze.

"I just like looking at them."

"But they're of me, don't you look at photos of younger girls?"

"Sometimes yes. We all do. Most blokes look at porn now and then."

"So are my pictures porn?"

"No. No not at all" he said quickly. "They are gorgeous. They are erotic art. I love them."

"How often do you look at them?"

"Most days. I have some on my phone too."

"Jesus Christ Peter, this gets worse."

"No it doesn't, not a bit."

"What then."

"I love your photos, you are so beautiful and you have a great body. Now does that tell you what you want to know?"

I didn't know what he meant. "No it doesn't, I don't understand."

"How" the hell can I say this?" He asked, almost to himself.

"They excite me, now does that tell you?"

"Photos of your mother excite you?"

"Yes."

"Oh my god."

"Don't be annoyed mum" he said putting his hand on mine, which was resting on the work surface.

"Peter, I am not annoyed, just confused."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be it's not your fault. How long have you had them?"

"About a year or so."

"But some are newer than that."

"Yes I know. You can find out when they were taken and......." He paused before adding. "What camera was used."

"Really?" I said realising that he would know some were taken by a camera other than Richard's.

"Some of the more recent ones were taken by a different camera."

"Were they, I didn't know?" I said lightly, now feeling guilty.

"Yes and actually they are raunchier."

"Oh" I blurted out not enjoying the way the conversation was going, but adding ridiculously. "Do you like those more?"

"Mum I like all of them, every single one" he whispered squeezing my hand.

"Oh Peter."

"Yes, because they are of you" he whispered back. "Do you like being photographed?" He suddenly asked.

Before thinking I blurted out. "Yes."

"And you get aroused don't you?" He asked.

'How the hell can I be having a discussion like this with my son' I asked myself realising that I was becoming aroused right now.

"Peter you shouldn't ask such things of me."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm your mother."

"You're also a woman, mum. A beautiful and sexy woman" he responded quickly.

"Peter no. Stop don't go there."

"Go where?" He asked gripping my hand and moving forward so we were closer to each other.

"Asking about being aroused."

"I know, but I want to know. You did get aroused didn't you?"

"Yes Peter I did. Of course I did."
"And is that why you and he took them?"

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"And so do I. I get aroused too."

"At your mother?" I said sounding incredulous, but feeling elated.

"Yes mum, I get aroused looking at you."

"At me or my photos."

He moved even closer, gripping my hand more firmly and said quietly as he stared into my eyes.

"Both. At you and your photos."

"Are you now?" I rather limply asked.

"Yes mum, very much so."

"I'm sorry Peter."

We were silent for a moment or two.

"Cat" he said quietly still holding my hand. "Let me take some of you?"

"Some what?" I asked knowing full well that he meant photos.

"Some shots."

"No don't be silly" I replied feeling a touch of arousal at the idea.

"Why not? You say you like posing and being photographed."

"That's different."

"How is it and why?"

I was feeling flustered and hugely embarrassed at what he was suggesting.

"It just is, those photos are different."

"What, different to me taking some?"

"Yes."

"Because of what you were wearing or..............." he said pausing and looking into my eyes before adding with a slight smile. "What you weren't wearing?"

Despite the gravity of the situation I couldn't help smiling and rather confused I replied.

"Yes, er no. No just different."

"Well let's take some photos and not be different."

"What do you mean?"

He moved a little closer and rubbed my wrist with his fingers as he said quietly.

"If we don't take different photos then we would take similar ones wouldn't we?"

I thought for a moment and then realised what he meant.

"You mean with me undressed."

"Yes then they wouldn't be different."

"Peter, don't be silly" I replied pulling my hand away. "Let's go back to my room."

Glasses in our hands we went into the conservatory.

"Let me get my camera?"

"No, it's ridiculous."

"Mum it isn't ridiculous. I like taking photos, you like being photographed, we have the opportunity, we're alone and I have the means with my new Canon."

"But I'm your mother Peter, not a young girl or a model."

"Yes a mother you may be, but you are also a stunningly attractive woman who I would love to photograph...................." he paused as he walked to the PC, clicked the mouse, filled the screen with a close up of my naked breasts with erect nipples. "Like this."

I jumped when I saw my photo and as he then flicked through several more saying. "Like this" to shots of me from behind bending over, lying on the floor, kneeling and on a bed. Shots of me in thongs, see through bras, basques, French knickers and a waspie. Photos of me in lingerie, topless and naked.

"Peter stop it."

"Don't you like them?"

"No I don't."

"Really Cat?" He asked holding on the screen a photo of me pinching my nipples. My eyes were half closed and my mouth was slightly open as I projected the look of a woman about to cum. "That is about the most erotic photo I have ever seen. I would love to have taken that shot"

"Well for sure you won't photograph me like that."

"How can I photograph you then?"

"You can't."

He walked over and stood close to me.

"Please mum, let me take some, nothing risqué."

"Why do you want to?"

"Having you pose for me would be the most exciting thing I can imagine. Please."

I was now in a quandary. He had sort of backed me into a corner.

"Just dressed as you are Cat. You know you will like it."

He walked out and I knew he was getting his camera.

I felt very warm and I was extremely torn. The idea of being photographed was exciting enough by itself, but the prospect of my son taking them made it even more so. At the same time, though, I knew I had to resist, but I also knew it was what a part of me wanted. There had been this sexual tension between us for some time now and the fact that he had the photographs partially explained that. I worked out that it was around the time he first got them, or when he said he had, that the atmosphere between us had become quite steamy at times.

"Just sit there like that Cat and look over your shoulder at the camera" I heard him say from behind me.

I looked round and as I did he clicked button and shot me.

"Peter stop" I resisted as I saw him turning the lens presumably moving in close. He ignored and shot a few more of me like that. He moved so that he was side on to me, firing away all the time.

"Come on mum, give me something."

"What do you mean?"

"Pose for me, smoulder, love the camera" he went on moving around and taking shots from all angles "As you did when you posed for dad."

That hit home, but despite my extreme reservations I found myself responding. I patted my hair in place and beamed a smile at the camera.

"Mmmm fantastic, you have such a great smile mum. Tip your head back" he went on moving closer to where I was seated on the arm of the settee.

I did as he asked.

"Hurry up Peter" I said not really wanting him to hurry, but felt it prudent to say so.

"Just a few Cat. Would you arch your back a bit please?"

I realised of course that by doing that my breasts would push out and be emphasised. It was then that I should have once and for all stopped him. But I didn't and I did as he asked.

"Oh my god they look fantastic Cat" he said softly clearly focusing on my chest.

That made a little shudder run through me, although I hated myself for being turned on by my son talking about my breasts.

"Stop it" I said probably totally unconvincingly.

"Stand up please mum."

Almost mesmerised now by the heavy sexual atmosphere I obeyed.

"Turn round."

I did as I said. "Why?"

"I want some of you rear."

"My rear."

"I mean your bum mum, you have a great ass."

"Peter don't" I admonished.

"But you do Cat you have a great ass" he retorted adopting a slight American accent to say ass.

"Thank you" Peter I found myself saying as I turned round with him clicking away as I did. He gave me a series of instructions in quick succession.

"Look over your shoulder at me."

"Turn at the waist. To your right and now your left.Hold that and put your left hand in your hair, ruffle it up a bit.Put your hands as far above you as you can get them.Mmmmmm lovely" he breathed. "Bare skin at last."

I realised that my top would have ridden up a bit and that my back and side would be on view to him and the camera.

"Pull it up further Cat."

"What my top?"

"Yes. As if you are about to take it off."

"Now Peter, don't go too far."

"I only said as if you were going to take it off, not take it off, so don't worry."

"Ok, but this is as far as I am going."

I wrapped my arms around my front and reached down and gripped the hem of my top.

"Lift it up a bit mum."

"Just a little then" I muttered now feeling hugely turned on.

I pulled it up so there were a few inches between the waist of my pedal pushers and the hem of the top.

"Oh yes, more bare flesh" he sighed clicking away. "Just a bit further and arch your back a little."

I lifted it further enjoying the sensation of exposing my back to the camera or, I suddenly thought, to my son.

"Ok?" I asked looking over my shoulder at him. He was standing upright and as clear as anything I saw his erection in his tight jeans. It made me gulp, but I wasn't quite sure why. Concern, guilt, worry, want, desire hope? I wasn't sure, possibly all of them.

Our eyes met.

"Sorry" he whispered.

"That's ok" I said secretly pleased that I could turn him on so much.

"Just a bit more."

"What the top?"

"Yes will you pull it up further."

I couldn't see much of a problem with that so I eased it up a little more so that it was nine inches or so up from my waist.

"Pull it up Cat so the camera sees your bra strap."

"Peter this is going too far."

"It's only us mum, no one will see them apart from us."

"You promise."

"Of course you can help me delete them when we've done. Ok?"

"I suppose so."

"Then up to your bra strap Cat."

I lifted it up until the quite thin for the weight it had to support, black bra strap was visible to the camera.

"Oh boy yes" keep turning and looking at me with that bra strap on show, it's awesome."

He clicked away as I turned from side to side and put on a bit of a show by tossing my head back and running my spare hand through my hair.

"Gee that's fantastic. Now keep the top up above the bra strap mum and bend forward so I get more of that lovely bum. How about pulling the top up so it's round your neck?"

"That will mean I show all of my bra."

"Yes mum spot on, come on what's the problem?"

"Me doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Posing like this."

"You've done it loads of times."

"Yes I know, but not with you, my son" I mumbled.

"But you know what I have seen don't you Cat?" He said going to the PC and rapidly bringing shot after shot of me in varying degrees of undress onto the screen. "See I have seen everything mum haven't I?" He went on leaving a shot on the screen of my lying on a bed, just dressed in holdups with my hands wedged between my thighs, which were clamped round them.

"Yes" I said softly, the sheer enormity of him finding the photos again hitting me.

"So really showing me again doesn't matter does it for I will always have them won't I?"

"Yes."

"Lift it up then mum."

I pulled the silky top up so that it was bunched round my shoulder. He took photos of my back then said huskily.

"Will you turn round now please?"

I turned slowly knowing that we were going into very uncharted territory. I was showing my son my breasts in a gossamer thin, near diaphanous bra. I was acutely aware that my nipples were as hard as they could be and that they would be clearly visible to Peter and his camera.

He was shooting fast now, fiddling with the lens presumably zooming in and out on my breasts and nipples.

"Just pose naturally Cat as you did when you posed for dad or........." he paused before adding. "Whoever."

I didn't respond, but felt terrible that he knew I had posed for someone other than his father, which was bad enough in itself. I struck a number of poses, turning this way then the other, putting my hands on my hips then in my hair. Peter ooohed and ahhed as I did that.

"Smashing mum. I can see that I am working with a real pro."

"Now, now I'm not that."

"Ok a gifted amateur then."

"Yes that's better" I replied smiling feeling slightly more relaxed as the mood lightened. He soon changed that though.

He was peering into the camera and not even looking at me when he said very huskily, quite softly and in an almost matter of fact tone.

"Take it off Cat."

I didn't say anything. Equally I didn't do anything, but I just stood there.

"Come on please, take your bra off. We have come this far and I have seen your breasts on the shots haven't I?"

"Yes, but this is going too far."

"Why is it? We'll delete them after" he said holding the camera by his side and standing up straight.

I couldn't stop my gaze running down my son's boy. It locked on his full erection. He didn't flinch or look away when he saw where I was looking.

"See what you do to me mum?"

"Yes" I whimpered.

"So please take the top and the bra off."

Without further ado and hardly any thought I slipped the top off and dropped it on the floor. He took more shots.

"Jesus you look fantastic" he told me as I reached behind me. "Hold it there and turn round I want to get some shots of you taking it off. Thanks Cat."

He snapped away from the back, side and front as I removed my bra and stood before him topless.

"Oh god Cat your tits are awesome, touch them for me."

"Peter this really is going too far. We have to stop"

"No mum it's not, it's perfect. This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me Please, please touch them. You did it for dad and you know you enjoy it."

His words and, I have to admit the outline of his hard on in his jeans got me going.

I lifted a hand and gently touched my breast. I stroked it, caressed it. That felt so good.

He asked. "Is that nice mum?"

"Mmmmm yes" I sighed cupping the other breast with my other hand.

"Is it?"

"Yes Peter it is."

"Pinch your nipples for me."

I didn't even think of objecting. They needed to be treated like that. I pinched and pulled them. That felt great.

"Oh Cat this so fantastic."

"Yes maybe it is, but we have to stop now and I mean it" I said picking up my top and bra."

"Ok, but it really has been amazing he said walking over to where I was standing covering my breasts with my top. "Not much point doing that really is there?" He said smiling and gently taking the top from me. Thank you so much mum, you really are an amazing woman.

"And you are a great son" I whispered putting my hand up to stroke his face. Possibly thinking I was going to put my arm round his neck or was giving him an invitation, he slid his arm round my waist, pulled me to him and kissed me, full on the mouth. I fell against him as his arms pulled me to him.

'Jesus his cock is awesome' I was thinking as, momentarily I revelled in the feelings of my son's fully erect, stunningly hard cock pushing into the softness of my stomach. It seemed so big for he was pressed against me from my pubic bone to my navel. Somehow I managed to control myself and I came to my senses.

"Peter no, stop" I grunted slipping away from him.

"Mum sorry, but I couldn't help it. I am so worked up."

"Oh darling" I groaned looking at the outline of his erection in his very tight jeans.

It was so appealing, indeed he was so appealing. I wanted him, but I didn't. I wanted his arms round me, my body against his and his cock squashing into my tummy, but I didn't. I wanted to see my son's swollen cock and hold it and, no I couldn't even think that. I was torn, the conflict was enormous. For months, maybe years I had fantasised about my son and had dreamed of being in this position. I had imagined this happening, but had not thought about my feelings if it did, other than my sexual arousal. I had savoured the physical aspect of my son and me, but not the emotional one and that was getting at me right now. I should have the resolve, the self-control and the fortitude to resist, but I hadn't got it and that filled me with guilt and shame.

We stood close together not catching the other's eyes. We didn't speak for some time.

My sensible, motherly, wifely and respectable side said 'Stop it, move away, do nothing else.' The woman in me argued 'Let him have you, make love to him, have sex with your son.

"We need to talk Peter."

"Yes."

"Very seriously."

"I know."

"How about I call up Chinese and we have that and chat."

"Sure."

We agreed our meal and I phoned and it was on its way. I went to my room, put my bra and top back on, did my hair and rather ridiculously, yet practically changed my panties after washing my pussy. I had become quite wet with the posing, our talk and the kiss.

The food arrived twenty or so minutes later and we ate in my conservatory sitting side by side on the Chesterfield with the Chinese food on a low coffee table in front of us. The PC in a hibernation mode was opposite us and I was very aware that a light nudge would bring those photos of me up onto my very new thirty inch screen. That kept me on tenterhooks throughout the meal.

As it happened we didn't talk about 'it' as we ate. We cleared up and I filled our glasses with red wine.

"So we have to talk Peter" I opened up as we sat back on the couch. I sat at one end my back against the arm looking at him. He was sitting in the middle of the couch leaning forward his arms resting on his knees.

"Yes, what do you want to talk about first?"

"How do you mean?" I asked feeling a little confused.

"The photos or the kiss."

Both options hit me hard. How the hell could I talk to my son about either? What a fucking mess I thought. I knew I had to though.

"Let's leave the photos" I suggested cunningly hoping we could avoid him questioning me on the different camera that had been used recently and the more raunchy look he had seen in them. "I guess they are really part of each other aren't they?"

"Mum I have a really big confession to make" he said hesitantly.

"Go on."

"I don't know where to start" he said quietly turning towards me, his ankle touching my leg as I leaned forward and rested my fingers on his bare arm, just beneath his elbow.

"We have to clear this up love" I said softly. Peter rested his fingers on my hand and quite obviously again looked right down the front of my top.

"I know mum, but it is so difficult."

"Take your time" I told him leaning back.

"You're right" he started hesitantly. "The photos and kissing you are related, they are all part of the same thing."

"I guessed that Peter. I know what you mean."

"Do you, do you really know?"

"Well suspect, but you have to tell me."

He was near to tears. My heart went out to him, I wanted to hold him and console him. I moved closer and put my arm round his shoulders.

"You have to get it off your chest Peter then we can work it out together."

"Together just us?"

"Yes."

"Not dad?"

"No darling" I whispered feeling relieved. I kissed his head as he started to cry.

"Mum, please don't be annoyed" he sobbed his hand falling onto my leg just above my knee. It was like an electric shock, but it felt good.

"You know what I do with the photos don't you?" He stammered not waiting for an answer, but adding. "I masturbate to them."

Of course I knew that. Hearing him say it though was enormously arousing. I cuddled him tighter and whispered. "That's fine darling I understand."

"Oh Cat" he sighed. "Do you really?" He asked turning and putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Yes baby I do. I told you I was the world's most understanding mum didn't I?"

"Yes" he smiled. "And you are, but it gets worse."

"How?"

"Much worse."

"Tell me."

"I fantasise about you. Well about us really."

I knew what was coming next and in addition to my heart seeming to be in my mouth with nervousness, my excitement level rose enormously. I didn't say anything, but we held each other.

"You know what I imagine don't you Cat?"

"I think so" I replied as I too started to cry, my voice husky with emotion and arousal as his hand slid down my back and pulled me towards him. I know I should have resisted. I know I should have stopped him. I know I should have wriggled away. But I didn't and the top half of my body was pressed against his, my breasts squashed against him. It was so wrong, but it felt so good. It got even better, well more arousing when he mumbled.

"I imagine us having sex Cat. I want to make love to you."

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 my neck as we held each other. I kissed the side of his face. One of his hands was round 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 and neck.

After what must have been five minutes Peter said.

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

"Peter" I whispered. "That's not really a very wise thing 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.

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

We both looked down at his hand. Slowly he pulled it upwards bringing the hem with it. I froze and felt totally unable to do anything to stop him. It was as though it was happening to someone else as the silky material slid over my chest and onto my breasts. Slowly, almost agonisingly slowly as we now looked at each other my son lifted the hem of my top over my breasts and bunched it round my neck.

"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 up them and off.

"Oh Cat 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 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 i****t, 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 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?"

"Yes" I replied my heart pounding.

"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.

"Cat" he said suddenly.

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

"Would you take your trousers 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 partly 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.

"Ok" I whispered.

"Great thanks mum, you're terrific" he gushed just he did when he was a k** 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 white, pedal pusher trousers down as my son watched me 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.

"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, I knew, now lusting for my son.

"Lay on your back please Cat" 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 I, without being asked or even thinking 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 mum."

He took more and more shots.

"Will you touch yourself there please Cat."

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 with 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 stroking my breasts and brushing my fingers across my nipples.

"Weren't you Cat?"

"Yes Peter I was."

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

"Yes."

"And the more you posed the more aroused you became wasn't it?"

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 to make love to you."

"Yes" I whimpered.

"And because of that you touched yourself down there" he said huskily, very obviously focusing the lens on where the soaked lips of my pussy were probably quite evident through the thin silk of my thong. "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 Richard had photographed 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.

"Dad 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 Cat?"

I had no resistance whatsoever now so I slowly opened them again.

"You rubbed your clit for him 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.

"Come on mum, come on Cat do it. Do it for me."

"No" I groaned.

"Yes Cat, do it for me, 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.

"You rubbed your clit and put your fingers up your cunt didn't you?" 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 dad."

I was gone, I was totally lost now. I was like putty in my son's hands. He had got me and 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 Cat" 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 Cat, do yourself, fuck yourself" 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 and this time 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 Cat" 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. Yes?"

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.

"May 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.

"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" Peter 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 dad, mum?"

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 hands and my lips 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 Cat 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 cunt.

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 moaned 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 my son had cum on my tits.