Another Mom , Son , Camera Story Ch. 02

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Yes, there are many Mom & Son camera stories on Literotica. Yes they are often similar, this one is mine. If you do not enjoy this subject matter do not read it.

This episode is the second chapter of my story.

I took a few more photographs of mom, her face & tits looked great, she was almost glowing. I could see her tongue moving around inside her mouth cleaning cum she had not swallowed moments ago from her teeth.

Even though she had okayed my request to take more photos, I could tell the fun was over. Her face reflected concern & distress that she had just sucked her son’s penis to orgasm, swallowing my cum in the process.

She was sitting in her bath tub, beautifully naked to my eyes but obviously conflicted.

“Mom, let’s get you out of the bath, warmed & dried. Take my hand.” I held her towel out with open arms and engulfed her shinny, wet, very hot body, hugging her as I wrapped the towel.

“Thank you sweetie, I’m not sure we should have done that, I feel funny, you are not my husband, you are my son.” She was starting to babble.

“Mom, I am sorry you do not feel good, I love looking at your beautiful body, gorgeous breasts and being touched by you.” If mom was having doubts, touching, sounded better than sucking my cock until I came in your mouth. I was rubbing the towel over her non erogenous zones careful not to remind her about our blow job, trying to get her dry as fast as possible.

Mom allowed me to lead her into the bedroom, I grabbed the dressing gown she had worn at breakfast and helped her put it on ensuring she could not see me peaking at her excellent naked body.

“Why don’t you lie down and nap mom.” She climbed into bed and lay down on her back, eyes closing as soon as her head touched the pillow. I started to leave as quickly as possible because I did not want mom making any drastic statements about what we did was wrong and we must never …

“Honey, what we did was wrong, I don’t know what came over me, your father & I used to enjoy taking… I must never touch you sexually again, you are my son.” Motherfucker, I said in my head, noting I was not yet.

“Mom,” I interrupted

“If you are sorry, I am sorry, you are a beautiful woman, I don’t know what you have been doing for the last 3 years without a man around, you are amazing, I love you.” It seemed smart to say little & shut up.

“Sweetie, thanks for the kind words, we are family, what we did was wrong. It can never happen again.” Her eyes were open she was glaring at me, head lifted off the pillow. I started talking before she could.

“Mom, we should not do what we just did again, I promise. With your permission I will take photographs of you only when you say it’s okay. I love you I’ll see you later.”

I almost ran out of her bedroom to ensure I could not hear anymore about not doing anything ever again, even no more photos. My cock was semi hard with the thought of her warm wet mouth wrapped around it as I ejaculated down her throat 20 minutes earlier.

Real sex tends to replace masturbation once you’ve had a taste. So it was with me. Lying in bed for 20 minutes, knowing mom was asleep in her room less than 20 feet away nearly naked and with bits of my cum still in her mouth should have led to 2 hours of cock abuse. No more, I had a taste of the real thing I was planning how to experience real sex again. Trouble was I had no idea how to go about it especially as mom seemed pretty sure what we did was a mistake. I masturbated for 15 minutes and fell asleep.

Those of you following the timeline will know mom & I had gone to bed at the latest mid-morning Sunday. My excuse was mom had sucked my cock with me standing beside her bath tub, her kneeling in the tub naked, she had swallowed my load, I had jacked off to the memory, ‘worth a nap.

Mom’s excuse? Read above although I doubt she pleasured herself before she fell asleep. She may not have slept at all with the guilt, doubt, concern & obvious confusion caused by her giving her only son a blow job.

I woke up at noon, checked that my digital camera was charging, jumped in the shower, played with my boner and dressed in running shorts & muscle shirt. Seemed a good time to show as much skin as possible & allow my unfettered cock to flop around.

“Morning mom,” I started as I descended our stairs & glimpsed her body moving about the kitchen. I walked in the room, she had not spoken.

“Hello mom, nice day.” Master of the obvious, the sun was streaming through the kitchen window, sky blue, it was gonna be a warm day. Mom was facing the stove, stirring the contents of a mid size saucepan, silence.

“‘Think I’m going to catch some rays in the back yard, you want to join me later?”

Wow, she was ignoring me. Not that some readers would blame her but there was only her & I in the house, this was going to be weird. I used what little smarts I had.

“Mom, if you are sorry, if you have regrets I understand. What is done is done; maybe we Casibom never speak of it again. I love you.” Thinking I had actually said very little, I moved behind her and hugged with both arms.

“Love you mom,” my hands met over her smooth tummy. She was wearing pajamas under a full length robe. My face nestled in her neck behind an ear. I breathed deeply.

Silence. This was getting silly.

“Mom you’ve got to say something.”

“Son, I don’t want to talk about it, what we did was wrong, we must never do anything like it again.”

“Mom, you’re the boss, I respect your words and understand your feelings.” I was not giving anything away, yet.

“No more naughty pics, no more photographs.” Whooa just hold on there little lady, I thought to myself.

“Mom, we can’t go the rest of our lives without photographs, without me taking your picture.” She straightened her posture and moved her arms away from her body to disengage my still hugging arms.

“Son, I do not want to see your camera again, ever again.” She turned her body, I retreated back from her. Seemed like mom was putting all the blame for her sucking my cock on the camera. Worked for me, I could buy a new camera (ha ha) or use the power of the camera… I choose B.

“Mom, you are being silly, you can’t ban cameras from this house, what if uncle George & aunt May come over & he brings his camera?” Calling mom silly was probably not the smartest move.

“Son I am not going to argue with you, this is my house….” I interrupted fast, because she was right, this was her house I was old enough to be thrown out.

“Mom, I’m sorry I did not mean to call you silly, I am only saying there are a lot of cameras out there,” I gestured out of our kitchen window.

“I will stop asking you before I take a photograph, we will continue like normal human beings, I will not carry the camera everywhere, we will take Christmas pics & birthday photos like everyone else.” Would she notice my sneaky attempt to stop asking prior to taking?

“Sweetie, I was not born yesterday, this is my house, I make the rules, you will not…” Ah Oh, I needed to stop the flow of words, so I interrupted again.

“Mom, I love you I would never do anything to hurt you, I’m going to hit the patio & catch some rays, see you later.” It was risky walking out of the room after interrupting mom half way through a “discussion” although I knew she was not a hugely argumentative lady, if she thought she had made her point she would quit.

I laid the towel I had brought downstairs with me on a lounger (after moving it into the sun) and laid on my back to sunbathe.

About 30 minutes later, our patio door opened and mom appeared wrapped in a silky, down-to-the-knee house coat.

“Hello sweetie, do you want any lunch?” huge internal sigh of relieve things were better between us & I answered.

“I’m okay mom, I was going to make myself a drink, do you want one?”

“Sweetie, you need to eat especially if we are drinking.” Did she say we?

“I’m good, I’ll be back.” A little Arnold in the voice always made mom smile.

I am no bartender, I know what I like and I knew what I wanted to achieve so I improvised.

I placed ice cubes in the blender & ran it until the ice was “frozen” consistency like a Frozen Margarita, slush with tiny ice pieces in it. Added vodka, the extra proof (higher alcohol content with the blue label), raspberry liquor, another strong liquor(yellow in a tall bottle) & some sparkling lemon/lime soda to bubble it up. A straw and miniature umbrella completed the look. The first batch filled two 12 ounce glasses. The drink looked dangerous, a dark redish, orangish almost purple glow. Mom was not stupid. I grabbed frozen strawberries & raspberries out of the freezer, shoved them in the blender, only blending long enough to allow pieces of the fruit to be visible and added it to both glasses. It didn’t do much for the color but allowed me to make fruit claims which I would.

“Here you go mom, my own ‘summer breeze’, one for you one for me.”

“Thank you honey, what is it?”

“A lot of fruit, vodka, couple of Tropical drinks, taste it.” I realized I had not even tried it before bringing it to mom. Fingers crossed.

“Hmmmm, that is tasty sweetie, it’s not too strong is it?” Define too strong I mused.

“No mom, there’s fruit & Sprite in it.”

“Okay, it’s delicious, thanks Sweetie.”

“Did you eat mom?” I had not eaten since breakfast, I was not sure mom had eaten today.

“No sweetie, I’ll eat soon.” No she would not.

“That’s a nice bathing suit,” I started as mom removed her gown and laid down her towel on the lounger I had placed beside me in the sun. Fact was it was a bathing suit not a 2 piece bikini which mom usually wore. One piece, white, covering as much skin as it could. Basically no cleavage showed and it almost had legs at the bottom. An inch or so of fabric started down her thighs ensuring there was less visible skin than most underwear.

“Thank Casibom Giriş you sweetie, I just bought it to wear at the Jones’ garden party next week.” That actually made sense, Mr Jones was a huge pervert, he’d just put in a swimming pool, I was pretty sure solely to oogle his daughter’s friends and any adults who visited. I had seen the party invitation; it stated “swim suits required”. Mom was not giving away any more skin than she had to next week; big problem was she was wearing it for me.

“You look very grown up mom, suits you, you look great.” I was pretty sure telling a 39 year old woman, even a beautiful, sexy woman she looked grown up was border line insulting.

“What do you mean sweetie? This suit cost over three hundred, it’s made of a modern wicking fabric.”

“Mom don’t get me wrong, you look great, it’s just not the best suit to get a suntan in, have another drink.”

“Oh sweetie, I see what you mean.” She looked over at me, shirt off, thin running short’s waist band low on the hips, legs pulled up to my thighs to get as much sun on as much skin as possible. Mom took a long pull on the straw in her drink, so long my cock started to thicken at the memory of yesterday. Same face, same look, smaller tube (haha).

I finished my drink without the straw, once finished, ‘sucked on the straw to make the gurgling sound we all know & hate.

“Another drink mom?” I asked as innocently as I could. I had been trying to calculate in my head, how much alcohol was in our drinks, how many equivalent units we were drinking. Best I could guess was each 12oz glass we were drinking contained 4-5 standard drinks. That was 5 shots, 5 glasses of wine or 5 beers. I deliberately lay back on the lounger, eyes closed to catch more sun and tease mom.

“Well are you going to make us another drink, or do I have to get up?” she sounded louder than usual, her face had been flushed, her challenging speech answered my own question as to whether she was feeling the drink.

“No mom, I’ll make one, you lie down & get some sun, at least on the skin that we can see.” Man, I was witty & on target.

“Sweetie, that’s not nice, I…” the patio door closed behind me as I grabbed ice from the freezer on my way to the drinks cabinet. I ran upstairs grabbed my fully charged camera and returned in time to turn off the blender.

As I opened the patio door mom was laying on her front, arms mostly above her head eyes closed.

“Hi mom, would you care for another fruity drink?” I had both glasses on a tray and my camera sitting upright, lens cap off next to the drinks. I placed the tray on the small table between our loungers. Mom turned to look at me.

“I’d love another drink honey, are you sure these drinks are mostly fruit & Sprite?” We’ll let that question go. Then her eyes zeroed in on the camera.

“Son, I thought we had agreed that…” time to interrupt.

“Mom, you are wearing your pervert Mr Jones swimsuit, you KNOW he will be standing by his new pool with his super-duper very expensive high definition digital camera shooting every teenage girl and nearly naked women within 20 feet at 50 million megapixels, zooming in on boobs & booty.”

I knew I was babbling & risking erogenous specifics, I also knew mom could not argue the technical aspects and my accusations were correct, the booby-booty detail would just piss her off. Especially if she had been drinking, oh yeah she had.

“Damn it dear, you are right. The only reason I bought this outfit was because Jones will be roaming around the party snapping shots of everyone.”

“And mom,” I paused, she drug her eyes away from the camera to look at me.

“He is not going to ask you or anyone if it is okay to take a photo before he hits the button.” I finished the sentence triumphant in tone and handed mom her new drink, fresh, cold & potent.

“That’s true sweetie, he sneaks up on everyone, last year I swear he was about to walk into his guest bathroom, camera at the ready as I was walking out. He did not look very happy.”

“He’s a perv mom.” I pronounced loudly as my brain registered something about a pot, a kettle & calling things black. Mom sucked on the straw, the drink level dropped fast.

I stopped talking and took a slug of my drink. It was important she saw I was drinking as fast as she, at least I had eaten something today. She appeared to be holding up well, for a woman who usually stopped at 3 glasses of wine.

“Sweetie you are getting sun burnt, look at your chest.” She was correct, although probably partly alcohol induced my chest, actually my body was pink. I peeled my shorts waist band down to show much paler skin. Mom squealed.

“Sweetie, look at you, you are going to get burned.”

“I’m fine mom, at least I have skin showing to burn.” Bam I was the king of funny comments.

“Let me get a pic of you before you burn.” Mom looked at me with a very strange expression. I had no idea what it meant but given events of the Casibom Güncel Giriş last 12 hours and our most recent exchange about Mr Jones, I presumed it was confusion. How could she deny me tame photos of her in a new swimsuit when in less than a week, a pervert neighbor would be snapping shots of her and her neighbors & local teenage neighbors (female), many in much more revealing costumes. She couldn’t.

“Okay sweetie, just a couple of pics, how shall I sit?” Camera in hand, switched on, I was up and prowling our rear deck looking like I was trying to get a good angle.

“Lie back mom, look down the garden, you look great.” She looked good but the costume covered most of her breasts and crotch. I started concentrating on her legs which were lean and smooth.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong with my face?

“Nothing mom, your legs look great do you want me to put some lotion on them?” I put my finger under the bottom of the suit to highlight the length it was below her butt.

She realized what I was motioning, I could almost hear her brain balancing a costume change to get a more complete tan vs what had happened in the last 8 hours and statements she had made. I switched my camera shots back to her face.

“Mom you are beautiful, the white costume works so well with your skin tone, you look fantastic.” She sucked on the straw some more. We had each ingested over 6 alcohol units in 60 minutes.

“Mom can you put some lotion on me, I’ll put on you.” Then I had an idea.

“Mom why don’t you take a photo of me, look at how white I am below my shorts.”

I folded down the waistband on my running shorts to highlight the difference between my stomach & white skin below. Pubic hair poked up, only one or two strands, partly because I kept everything neatly trimmed and partly because my already low riding shorts were now very close to being an inch above my cock root.

“Ohh yes sweetie, look at the white.” I noted a slight slur of her words as she reached for the camera. Immediately obvious was the fact mom had handled a camera before. One look and she saw the auto-focus digital display on the back, the photo push button and was ready to snap her son posing in thin running shorts. The shorts were shorter than usual because I had folded the legs into my crotch to get better sun coverage on my upper thighs. I folded down the waistband nearly to my cock which was slowly filling with blood.

“Ohh sweetie, strike a pose,” said mom in a strangely sing song voice. The front of my shorts was starting to tent as my cock slowly hardened. The camera clicked.

“You look good dear, show some muscle,” I could see the camera lens pointing down as I lifted my arms into the classic strongman pose. My shorts were the star of this show, or what was inside. Unless mom meant, show her my muscle, maybe my pose was wrong? Surely not?

I realized both of our bodies were swaying as we stood, posed & shot. A good sign for the other, there is always comfort in the other person being at the same level of sobriety as you.

“Mom, are you going to change, do you want me to put lotion on your legs, can you put lotion on my front please, how do you like the camera?” That’s a lot of questions for a pretty lady on her sixth or so drink on an empty stomach at 1:30 in the afternoon.

“Yes sweetie, I think I will,” she hesitated before her first step towards the house. I suspected the adult part of her brain was saying what the hell happened, we can barely stand. Did I answer all those questions?

“Let me help you mom, did you eat?” I put my arm around her shoulders; she put one around my waist.

“I don’t think so, I probably should eat now, let’s stop in the kitchen and make a sandwich.” No way mom, let’s get you upstairs said my brain.

“Mom we’ll make one after you change, you don’t want to get any mess on your new swimsuit, do you?”

“Good point sweetie, you are a good son. Let’s go. Where are we going?”

“To change mom, and put on lotion and take some photographs…”

I held mom and propelled her upstairs into her room, sat her on the side of the bed and grabbed my camera. Strap was hanging on my shoulder.

‘Mom, you look fantastic, look away, pull your hair back, sit up straight.” She followed my instructions.

“Why don’t you lie back, put your head on your hand and look at me.” She moved back onto the bed lying across the mattress and fluttered her eye brows at me. She looked very hot even with the granny swim costume on. I snapped 10 or so pics.

“Mom take some of me.” She looked momentarily dazed then sat up to take the camera from me. I walked around her & climbed onto the bed where the pillows were. My shorts looked very small, I had readjusted the legs into my crotch and pulled the waistband lower. My hardening penis was tenting straight out pointing at mom’s face. Mom was in a groove. She started snapping photos, some of my face then she noticed my cock looking at her. I lowered the waist further as she concentrated on taking photos of my erection. Soon the trimmed pubic hair above my cock was visible and the waistband was trying hard to pop off my cock. A wet patch/stain was visible through the light fabric as the head of my cock moved down the material.

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