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By Anonymous Author (PIXNIX)

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