Incest/Taboo Suspicious Mom

Mother of Christ. Did he think I was stupid that he would leave my panties halfway down my legs and take my bra right off? Was he trying to send me a message? Did he want to get caught? I'd heard about people doing that, or becoming careless when they repeatedly got away with things. Or maybe he had just gotten carried away after all my teasing and forgotten to cover his tracks?

Wait. Wait a minute. How had I fallen asleep? I wasn't tired last night. Quite the contrary. I was excited about trapping Jeff. I had dumped the tea, got new stuff. How... oh jeez... he must have doped the whole pot, made his earlier and hidden it.

To hell with the tea. I just wouldn't drink it anymore. Nor would I tease him. I'd just let this get behind us and pretend it never happened.

Lord, what had he done last night? He must have taken my dress off, maybe everything. He could have taken pictures of me completely naked. Would he post pictures of me like that, without panties, my pussy bare for all to see?

I jumped up, awkwardly pulling my panties up as I half ran to Jeff's room. I checked for new messages from Jeff but there weren't any, nor could I find new pictures on his computer. I searched for his camera but couldn't find that either. If he hadn't uploaded them yet, I had to get them before he did.

Thankfully, Stefan would be away for another night. I had one more chance to confront my son with his illicit late night deeds and, this time, I would have my own stash of fake tea.
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"What's that?"

"What's what?" I replied.

"The bag on the couch."

"Oh, I went shopping again." I continued casually scrubbing the potatoes in the sink, belying the tingling jump in my blood pressure sparked by Jeff's query.

"Oh yeah. What did you buy?"

"Nothing." I was coy.

"Nothing? There's something in the bag."

"Well, it's not for you."

"There's no need to get testy. I was just curious."

"Well if you must know, it's for your father."

"From a lingerie store?"

"Yes," I responded in a lowered voice, as if suddenly shy.

"Oh. So Dad's going to get lucky tomorrow night." Jeff whistled.

Despite myself, I blushed.

"That's enough of that. Why don't you go do something useful until dinner's ready?"

Jeff left. Rustling a moment later confirmed my prediction that he was looking in the bag. I rushed into the living room just as he pulled the filmy negligee out and dangled it from one hand.

"Hey, mister. Put that back."

Jeff whistled, holding the nightie out for inspection. He shook it out and turned to line it up with me, whistling again.

"Whew, Mama Mia."

"Stop that," I feigned anger but my laughter gave me away. I grabbed for the negligee but Jeff pulled it away.

My laughter died.

"Put it back in the bag," I pleaded, trying my best to look embarrassed.

Seeing my face, Jeff did as I asked.

"I was just teasing, Mom. Dad's a lucky guy."

I relieved Jeff of the bag. "I'm not so sure he thinks so."

Now, why did I drop a hint about his father's wandering attention?

Jeff let it pass. "Any guy would love to see you wearing that," he countered.

Now who was betraying their thoughts? I was already walking back to the kitchen, a smile on my face. Now the hook was set. I knew that in his mind Jeff was replacing my shirt and jeans with the negligee. Tonight I'll catch him with camera in hand and demand every picture he's ever taken.

We sat kitty corner from each other at the kitchen table during dinner rather than end-to-end as we normally did. We talked quietly and I managed to put my hand on his forearm twice while I told him about my day. We cleaned up the kitchen together and then retreated to the living room to read. I played with my leg again, even though I was wearing jeans. I had the sense that Jeff found it just as sensual despite the lack of bare skin. I know I did and I had to reprimand myself to keep focused on the task ahead. It wasn't going to be a pleasant confrontation but it was necessary.

Jeff got up and made tea without asking and I simply thanked him when he set a mug down beside me on the coffee table. He sank into the loveseat, immersing himself in his book except for the odd sip from his mug and a glance at me.

"Aren't you going to drink your tea?"

"Oh. I forgot all about it. It's probably cold now."

"I'll warm it up for you."

"No, you stay." I picked up the mug and headed for the kitchen. "I need to stretch my legs anyway."

In the kitchen, I turned the microwave on without putting anything in it. Covered by its noise, I emptied the tea down the sink and refilled the mug from the juice container I'd hidden in the cupboard earlier. When the microwave stopped, I returned to read my book. During the next ten minutes I savored several long sips. Eventually, I put my book down and did a full body stretch, pointing my toes down, curling my feet, and arching my back to emphasis my bosom.

"I'm feeling a little tired tonight," I said, relaxing. I swung my feet to the floor and made a point of gulping the rest of my 'tea' before setting the empty mug on the table. "I think I'll try my new nightie on and go to bed early."

I stopped in the kitchen to get my shopping bag and sauntered wearily up the stairs. How long, I wondered, would he wait?

I asked myself that several more times over the next hour. I was dozing when I woke with a start. I gazed about, listening intently. The house was quiet, and dark. It must have been the lights going out that startled me. I could hear Jeff's footsteps treading lightly down the hallway, past my room and on to his. Two minutes later, they retraced their steps to my door, and entered my room. He must have gone to get his camera.

"Mom?" Jeff whispered.

I remained still, breathing lightly, feigning sleep.

"Mom?" he repeated several more times.

The light switched on. Not the bedside lamp, but the main ceiling light. Why...

"Mom?"

Of course. He needed the light to take pictures. It was all I could do not to smile. You silly boy. He was walking stealthily toward me, into the spider's trap.

"Mom?" a louder whisper.

A hand pressed down on the pillow beside my bed. It shook me gently.

"Mom?"

Satisfied, Jeff's fingers grasped the blankets which I had pulled up to my neck and carefully peeled them down, slowly exposing my sleeping form, clad only in the new pink negligee with matching panties underneath. He didn't stop when it was fully revealed. Instead, he pulled the covers down until they fell over the end of the bed, baring my feet. I felt goosebumps running up my legs and arms but they were more in reaction from Jeff's appreciative survey than from the slight chill.

"Ahhh, gorgeous," he whispered.

Pride and joy at the worship in his voice launched a warm wave throughout my body. There was no bra with the negligee and I knew Jeff could see my unencumbered breasts through the filmy, see-through material. Modesty almost moved my hands over my breasts but the best I could do was will away the first trace of tingling sparks forming in my nipples. Stay focused. Wait for the first click, then pounce and stay on him in his shock until he admits having taken pictures before.

Jeff's fingers touched my shoulder, then traced a line back and forth several times to my neck and out to my upper arm. I prided myself on the control I exerted not to flinch. His fingers pulled the negligee's strap over my shoulder and then trailed down my arm and back several times before dipping from my shoulder to trace a line across my chest, above my breasts. Slowly, slowly, they ventured lower until they were sliding over the initial rises and down into the valley between. At some point, I felt Jeff's other hand reach across to push the strap off my other shoulder.

Back and forth, to and fro. His fingers were crossing lower now, on my breasts proper, the negligee somehow being pulled away, probably by his free hand. I could no longer suppress the tingling in my nipples. I guess I'm going to have to let him see my bare breasts, even touch them, if I'm going to catch him with the camera in his hand. He must have done this before, I reasoned. In fact, he probably did it every time so they looked good in the pictures, all swollen and aroused. I would just have to let it happen.

A gentle tug pulled the negligee over my straining nips. My breasts were completely exposed, swollen, trembling and proud. Jeff's fingertips continued crossing from one to the other, pausing in the valley between before climbing the next mountain. They were scraping over my aureole, just shy of my stiff, excited nipples. Jeff was breathing in short breaths now. His excitement heightened my own. How often had he done this, standing next to me, playing with my breasts?

Oh God. His fingers were brushing over my nipples now, each one dragging across in its turn, the slight bend followed by the sudden release and snap back until the next finger caught it. Back and forth, back and forth, so gently. He didn't stop to pinch, squeeze or hold. Just back and forth, again and again and again. Jeff's other hand was holding the underside of my breasts now, propping them up, thrusting my nipples up in stark refrain, stiffening their resistance to the mowing advance of his partners in crime. Oh, Jesus, it felt fantastic.

When was the last time a man had fondled my breasts so lovingly?

Never. That's when.

Certainly not Stefan. A few grabs, almost painful tweaks, a rough bite, and then he was between my legs. That bitch up there could have him as far as I was concerned.

Will he kiss them? Does my son lick my tits, suck my nipples into his mouth?

Yes, of course he does. His saliva would make them glisten in the pictures, helping to prove his daring. I resigned myself to let him do it. I have to wait for the pictures, the first one anyway. And then, after that first click, I'd move.

Shit. His hands were gone. My breasts strained upward, post partum, seeking their attacker. He wasn't going to kiss them. I recognized my disappointment but did my best not to acknowledge its depth. Maybe he did it just before the first snap so they were still wet.

There was a soft thud. Seconds passed before my brain interpreted the sound. It was his housecoat hitting the floor. Was he now wearing only his shorts? How guilty he would look when I finally opened my eyes to catch him with camera in hand, dressed in undershorts bulging with his incriminating lust. My ears strained for the faintest sign that my son was fumbling with a camera.

I heard nothing.

Jeff's fingers abruptly returned to my breasts, this time encircling them, squeezing gently, prodding my nipples up high. He was going to kiss them.

Even so, I was surprised when his mouth enveloped my left nipple and sucked, a long, slurping siphon. His mouth moved to my other tit and treated it to a similarly strong caress, neither gentle nor harsh. It was wonderful. Jeff's mouth passed back and forth between my tits, each suck growing longer and more intense and then, as quickly as it arrived, his mouth departed.

Again, the pain of separation. He was ready for the pictures. Oh, but couldn't his preparation have lasted a little longer. I groaned inside. It had been so fine and I could have done with a little more. Briefly, I entertained the thought of not confronting my son. I could just lie here, pretending to be out. Who would ever know? I could let him take pictures of my panties and my tits, then let him suck them some more. I was sure he'd return for more once the pictures were done. What harm would it do if he never knew? God, the very thought made my nipples agonize for his lips and tongue.

NO. Erica, get hold of yourself. As soon as he takes that first picture, you're going to jump up and give him what for. I nodded to myself so firmly my head might have even moved. Alright. I steeled myself for the imminent battle.

There was no click, no picture. Jeff was pulling the negligee up my legs, over my hips, exposing the panties and bunching it on my tummy. Of course, I thought. He's a panty lover. He wants to take pictures of my pretty pink panties. Was I moist? Would my excitement show?

Jeff's hand slipped under my knees and lifted my legs. Holding my bent knees off the bed, he began to stroke my thighs, parting my legs to slip his hand between, reaching underneath to tease the soft underside as I had done in front of him on the couch. Oh yes, the feel of his palms brushing up and down my inner thigh. That was so great. The warmth that pulsed through me each time the edge of his hand neared the gusset of my panties was awesome. I must be radiating extreme heat.

He took his time, caressing my legs in the same unhurried manner he had fondled my breasts. Oh, they ached for his touch and his not so tender kiss but this, this felt incredibly good too. What a lover he was going to make. No, I corrected myself, what a lover he already was.

Could he do this with a woman that was awake and aware, I wondered, or would he feel compelled to move faster? Would he be self conscious of his enjoyment and thus ruin it for himself and his lover? The word jolted me. Lover.

My son wasn't just readying me for a few pictures. He was making love to me, making love to his mother.

That thought sent a jangle of electricity rocketing around my pubic walls.

Jeff's hand under my knees suddenly pulled up, way up, lifting my legs and pushing them back until my thighs were pressing over the sides of my breasts, lewdly exposing my panty covered genitals.

Okay. He's getting ready for the picture, preparing for the panty shot. Listen now. Listen for the camera.

But Jeff didn't let go to fetch the camera which must be somewhere nearby. Instead, he pressed on my calves, keeping my knees against my breasts, while his free hand began to lightly brush up and down the length of my thighs, tickling their undersides with his feathery touch. His fingers ranged over their entire length and, though he approached my panties, he never ventured onto their terrain, choosing instead to trace their edges. Wonderful minutes slipped by and I confess I forgot all about the camera.

Jeff was using his head and neck to hold my feet up. His right hand had slipped under my legs to grasp my breast which he was kneading gently, forcing the nipple into a taut peak. I was just allowing my legs to part, implicitly urging his fingers deeper into their inner sanctuary, when his tickling suddenly stopped and he pulled my thighs tightly together.

Was he shocked by my wanton display? Had I somehow given my awareness away?

As I searched for some betraying sign, Jeff's mouth suddenly arrived on the back of my thighs. He rained tiny kisses up and down the path his fingers had blazed for ten minutes before. Nibbling, almost sucking. I couldn't repress the sigh that escaped my lips when his tongue dug between my tightly pressed legs and forced a furrow toward my panties.

Like his fingers, his tongue stopped just short of violating that sacred terrain, but it wiggled and waggled, digging a damp hole between my closed legs. Jeff's left hand slid down the outside of my leg, over my hips and onto my bottom. Yes, onto my panties. As his head moved his tongue up the crease between my legs, his hand gently rubbed the panties covering my bottom.

Now his head was moving back, dragging his tongue behind. Oh, yeah. Oh, God. Wiggling, waggling, digging his slippery hole. My pussy pulsed upward, desperately trying to contact that sexy little snake, to no avail. Behind, on my bottom, Jeff's fingers snagged the waistband of my silky pink panties and dragged them up, toward his head and over my buttocks. My ass was bare!

Jeff kept his head still, swirling his tongue in place, just shy of my yearning pussy while his hand rubbed and rubbed over my bare cheeks. Each time he crossed my crack, he pressed harder on the forward cheek, pushing into it, dragging it away from its sister, exposing my little hole and putting pressure on my pussy lips, urging them to spread them apart.

The bedroom air was filled with my musky scent. I was lost. I can't do anything now, I rationalized my inaction. How could I justify waiting through this, letting my son do this? I couldn't. I'd have to let him take his pictures and catch him another night, next time Stefan went out of town.

There. He was pulling his head away, dragging my panties higher. He was getting ready to take the pictures. This time I was sure. My maternal virtue was saved.

Jeff had stood. His hand left my breast and held my legs up and together to make it easier to drag my panties up near my knees. Clearly, he wanted me maximally exposed for his pictures. I was surprised since in all the ones I had seen I was still wearing my panties. But then I remembered the night I wore the new skimpy ones and had awoken pantiless. So my son was advancing in his lechery, I just hadn't witnessed the evidence yet, in pictures that is.

Jeff still wasn't moving away to retrieve the camera. He stood, one hand circling my legs to hold them up, the other lightly running up and down my legs. What was he up to now? The hand circling my legs moved up to my feet, bending them to curl over my soles. Then his mouth fit into the bowl of my cupped feet and his tongue slid out to tickle their soft wrinkles.

Wow! That was so different, so unexpected. Sparkly tingles trickled down my legs, sprinkling over my quivering thighs and onto my pussy. My bare pussy, I remembered with a start, just as Jeff's hand slid down over my bare bottom and renewed its gentle rubbing there. Meanwhile, his tongue continued its swirling licking of my tender soles, flicking and dragging wetly around my feet, following the path blazened by his nose. I was just getting used to this when a new sensation struck me.

Jeff leaned in to ease his access to my feet but it was the molten hot rod burning across my stomach that grabbed every neuron I had to spare. My son was naked, had been naked all along, ever since I'd heard the soft thud of his robe hitting the floor. His cock was scraping across my tummy, moving gently to and fro as his tongue stabbed and poked my soles while his fingers teased my bottom.

OMG. I can't stand this. If it doesn't end soon, I'll be begging him for it, craving release. Jeff's hand holding my feet slid down the front of my legs and onto my tits. His cock dug underneath my breasts and his hand pressed them gently down onto his hard member. Thrusting. He was shoving himself under my tits, fucking them, squeezed between my navel and their swollen pressure.

I realized I was panting. How long had I been breathing like that? I sounded like a bitch in heat, hornier than I had ever been before. I was holding my feet up to his mouth of my own accord, no need for him to hold me. My hips were rocking my bottom against his teasing fingers, so close to nirvana, now circling my pussy. God. How long had he been doing that? Did he start when he first slid his cock across my tummy? Is that why I didn't notice?

Jesus! He was chewing my feet, gnawing on my soles and somehow sucking at the same time. Fantastic. What a feeling! Who would ever think that would feel so good, so sexy? Oh, holy mother of God, he was in me. His biting distraction had covered his initial entry, at least, the first one I was conscious of. Just one finger. It must be the long one, it was going in and out so deep, deliciously slow, in time with his tummy thrusting cock. Two, he must be pushing two into me; his fingering felt thicker now. When was the last time I'd been fingered? High school? After we started fucking, how soon we forgot about the joys of a good finger fuck.

Wonderful, incredible. Jeff stopped chewing and simply thrust his tongue into the bowl of my feet, his cock and fingers moving in concert with his slick, lively snake. Suddenly, he increased his pace, jamming his fingers into my cunt with authority, creating loud squishing sounds while his tongue flicked feverishly and his cock burned my tummy and tits. Abruptly, he stopped, pressing my tits on his stilled rod, chewing my foot, and burying his fingers deep while his thumb languidly strummed my clit.​