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 it as we held each other. I kissed the side of his face. One of his hands was on 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, face and neck.
After what must have been five minutes Peter said.
"Mum er Jayne please let me take some more photos."
"Peter," I whispered. "That's not really very wise 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 as I sobbed.
"Then come on mum, just let's do this," he went on taking hold of the lapel of my blouse.
We both looked down at his hand. Slowly he lifted the other one and took hold of the other lapel. He slid both down and inch or so and held a button between one finger and thumb and the buttonhole in the other. It was obvious what he was going to do and I had very opportunity to stop him but I froze and felt totally unable to do anything to stop him. It was as though it was happening to someone else as the cotton material slowly opened up over my chest and breasts. Slowly, almost agonisingly slowly as we now looked at each other he opened the blouse and peeled it over my shoulders and down my arms.
"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 off them.
"Oh Jayne, 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 me 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 incest, 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 my 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?"
"We shouldn't Peter," I replied my heart pounding.
"Please let's, please Jayne, they are so beautiful they deserve to be on film.
Rather stupidly I guess I sighed. "Thank you darling and stroked his thick hair."
"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.
"Jayne," he said suddenly.
"Yes love?" I replied taking my hands from my breasts and looking at him.
"Would you take your skirt 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 also 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 naked in front of my son.
"Ok," I whispered as my pulse raced and heart pounded.
"Great thanks mum, you're terrific," he gushed just he did when he was a kid 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 black, pencil skirts down as he watched my every move 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 and lacy topped, hold up stockings.
"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 now lusting for my son and I hated myself for it.
"Lay on your back please Jayne," 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, without being asked, I stroked and caressed my breasts.
"Bend your knees mum."
