Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)

"Just like that for the first couple of pictures," I said.

Mom sat still, facing forward with her hands in her lap. I snapped a picture, making sure to capture all of her. I couldn't see her nipples through the thickness of her shirt, but I imagined them to be puckered tightly and as hard as diamonds. I took another picture, zooming in on the exposed side of her ass, cropping her upper body out of the picture. I could show my friends that picture one day, and they'd never know....

The thought of bragging about my mother to my friends without them knowing who I was talking about sent a chill through my cock and a buzzing through the soles of my feet that curled my toes. I liked it when my friends checked out Jenna. I liked knowing I had someone they could never have. Another chill went through me, turning my nipples sensitive, and I scratched my chest, the prickling sensations causing me to shiver.

I looked up from my phone's viewer and looked at my mother. "Mom," I said, "can you turn on the couch and face me, like last night." My heart sped up. Not as hard as it would have before last night's finger session, but hard enough to make my body tingle and my blood rush. "You can keep your legs together... for the first few pictures."

Mom looked at me. I saw defiance in her eyes, but she wore an expression of bratty sullenness that I found adorable. She did as I told her to do, lifting her feet and turning toward me, keeping her knees and feet together, so her shins created a wall that hid her pussy from me. I snapped several pictures, and though Mom dropped her eyes from me and looked toward the back of the couch, I didn't think that she was mad at me. Her eyes appeared to be looking inward as if contemplating some inner turmoil that was too terrible to ignore. (That may have sounded dramatic, but I needed to believe that Mom's desire for me was as strong as my desire for her.)

Fight your conscience, Mom. Fight it.

I snapped more pictures, saying, "Turn your eyes toward me," as I did.

Mom did as I told her to do. Her eyes looked big, with an accusing light that made my cock harder as the pressure in my balls grew stronger. My sack constricted. Was this turning Mom on as well? Was her conscience fighting the sexiness of this moment? Was it easier for me because I had been a child growing up and adoring a grown woman while Mom had been a grown woman adoring a child who had become a man, with manly desires? The weight of that on her conscious would have crushed most people, but here was my mother, who had let me jerk off on her yesterday morning and who had let me finger her last night--I doubt there was anyone in the world who could have understood her mind at that moment.

"You're beautiful," I said in a near whisper. "Thank you for this."

I snapped a picture, then another, smiling, and a small, soft smile appeared on my mother's lips as I looked down at my phone's screen. When I raised my eyes, her smile vanished, replaced by a sullen, resentful half-glare. "Spread your knees for me, Mom," I said, moving closer to her. "The way Jenna wants to spread her thighs for me, but I'm resisting her because I have you to look at."

Mom tilted her head, her eyes widening and her mouth tightening.

"Where's my tablet?" I asked, looking around the living room. "I still need to delete her pictures."

"It's in my room," Mom said. "I was going to remind you to do that."

"Spreading your legs for me is reminder enough," I said, my voice wavering as my breathing deepened. A harsh, swirling tingle circled my knob and glans, and I shuddered as precum escaped the tip of my cock. "Can you lift your shirt above your panties for me, too?"

Mom's cheeks sucked inward, and she narrowed her eyes. After a deep breath, her face softened, and she slowly spread her knees open, followed by moving her feet apart. A sun-golden hallway of smooth, semi-muscled thighs pointed the way down to the V of her crotch. She was wearing snow-white panties that seemed extra bright against her tan skin. As her shirt continued to her waistlines, Mom's straw-light pubes came into view, and I drooled at the smallness of her panties. They barely covered her outer pussy lips, but they were also transparent, allowing me to see everything between my mother's thighs: mound, clitoral hood, her little jewel, and her tight slit.

I swallowed, saying, "Thank you, Mom, for dressing this way for me." I licked my lips, not because I didn't know what to say, but because my cock was near to bursting, and my mouth wanted to dive between my mother's legs without asking for permission. "I don't know any other mom who cares this much about their son."

Mom stared at me, looking me in the eyes. Her lips trembled, then they spread into a soft, almost pleased, smile before returning to the straight-lined pout that they had held a second ago.

The transparency of my mother's panties ended at her perineum, turning into a string that I could have used for dental floss. I could see the rim of her asshole on either side of that string. Fuck, I wanted to rim her forbidden pucker. Mom's left knee hit the back of the couch while her right knee hovered over the floor beyond the edge of the cushion. She turned her feet onto their outer edges, bringing them together, and she sat with her legs resembling a wide-open bear trap that needed springing.

The urge to rush between my mother's thighs rumbled through my body. I wanted to lunge forward. I needed to. For a moment, the world swooned, and it seemed as if nothing could stop me from moving between my mother's legs and taking what I wanted. My vision narrowed, focusing on the visible flesh beneath my mother's panties, and as the primal desire to take what I wanted settled over me, my mother's voice cut through my near loss of control, bringing me back to reality.

"Take the picture," Mom whispered, her voice thick and husky. "I need to get to work."

I raised my camera, pointing it right between my mother's legs. I looked at her muff, the meat of her pussy squished and contained beneath her too-tight panties, then I looked at the viewscreen, then back at my mother. Snap. I lowered my phone, stared between my mother's legs, then raised the camera again and snapped several more pictures. I took my time, looking, not looking, listening as my mother's breathing grew deeper, and the mesh fabric centered over her slit dampened to a darker color against her pussyhole.

A deep groan escaped my lips when the first of Mom's juices became visible to my eyes.

"Mark," Mom whispered. "Don't be vulgar."

"I can't help it," I whispered. "Yours is the"--I paused, trying to will my mental bravado to the surface--"your"--I swallowed--"your pussy is the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

"Mark" Mom said in a gentle tone, "thank you."

I snapped another picture, then zoomed in between her legs and snapped another. My cock hurt, the shaft aching, and the tip alive with an energy that kept my precum flowing. I reached out with my left hand, holding my phone with my right hand.

"Mark," Mom sighed, warning me with her tone. "Mark, Mark... Mark." She closed her lips when I placed my hand on the inside of her right knee, the sound of my name fading away to nothing.

My fingers made the journey down Mom's thigh, stopping to absorb their outer softness and inner firmness. The further down my mother's leg I went, the warmer my hand grew. When my fingertips brushed the softest meat of her inner thigh, right before the dip leading into the hollow between her leg and outer labia, Mom shivered and placed a hand over mine. She stopped my fingertips an inch away from her panties. As I held my hand against her, I swear I saw her pussy pulse as if swelled by the excitement or the desire coursing through her in the same way I could flex my cock whenever I chose. Whether it was my imagination or not, I believed that I had just seen her cunny reaching outward for my touch.