Nudify

Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat, and the ass is a bum or arse.

I apologise for any typo errors in my story - I edit these myself, and I'm not perfect..

I was doing the laundry this morning; Steve my husband was at work and Paul our son was out at college and would be back for lunch. I knew that Paul would not have put all his washing in the laundry, he can't even manage to get it in the vicinity of. I went up to his room to retrieve what I could.

The inevitable sticky sock, yucky to say the least. Obviously better in the sock that all over his sheets, but my goodness, I never find them fresh, always hours old, and spunk has an unpleasant odour as it ages. I wondered what I would do if one day I found a fresh one? Would I scoop up my son's fresh spunk? Would I? I didn't know.

Dirty underpants used rather than actually dirty, but definitely in need of a wash. I wasn't sure what was the worst thing to handle, smelly pants or a sticky sock, both tested my love for him to be honest.

I looked around and there was a polo top, I grabbed that as well, as I picked it up his iPad slipped out of it. The screen lit up and there was a nude on it. I picked the iPad up for a closer look, and I gasped. It was me, only it wasn't me. It was my face, and I remembered the photo from the background, we had taken it at a visit to the park. My face was right and the background was right, but the naked body just wasn't.

The boobs were a bit too round, and the fanny hair, well, I don't have any fanny hair, I started getting rid of that as a teenager and never let it grow, hated it. The photo had a sort of landing strip. No, not me. But why did Paul have a fake naked me on his iPad? I would have to ask him. I didn't know if he had anymore, his iPad was locked and would only unlock with his thumb print.

I tried my thumb and obviously it didn't work, and it prompted me for the passcode. I tried his date of birth, and the screen opened up. I went to the photos app and there were tens of dozens of fake nude photos of me. No one else that I could see, just me. Most of the photos I recognised, but when they were taken I was wearing clothes. I was a bit shocked to see that he had somehow managed to get a couple of real nudes of me in my bedroom.

I sat on the edge of the bed and looked through the photos, although they were not my breasts or fanny, they did look good and I smiled as I looked at them, and then reality stepped in. Why did he have photos of me nude? Why? I could only imagine, and I wasn't sure I liked what I imagined. He should be fixating on girls his own age, not me, not his mum.

I selected some of the photos and uploaded them to my own phone, and then put the iPad down on his bed, gathered his dirty washing and went down to get the laundry on. I didn't leave him a clean sock, he could sort that out for himself. I will go so far, but only so far. The first wash on, the coloureds, the quicker of the two washes, I made a coffee and sat in the conservatory with my phone.

I looked through the photos again, they really were quite good and I guessed that if someone didn't know what I actually looked like nude, then they could easily believe that was me. What did he do with them? Did he share them with friends? God, that would be bad, I shuddered at the thought. I tried to remember how his friends had been when they came round, had they given me funny looks, or smirks? If they had, I hadn't noticed and not having an eidetic memory I couldn't replay their actual visits and check.

I was looking through the photos and trying to get my head around what I actually thought. The photos weren't the real me, but only someone who had seen me naked, Steve my husband and apparently Paul my son, would know that. Other people seeing them would think that they were actually me, that my boobs looked like that, my fanny looked like that.

Looking again at the groins I was so convinced that shaving was the right thing, I really didn't like the look of my pretend fake fanny with hair, even if it were short and hardly there, it was still there and more than anything, that meant the photos were fake and were not me. But if he did show them to his friends, they wouldn't know that, and what would they do, would they ogle?

And then the penny dropped. Of course. They were for when Paul used his sock, he was masturbating to fake naked images of me. I supposed, in my mind, that was natural, he was a teenager after all, hormones must be rampant in his body, but why me, his mum? Surely he would be lusting, I could think of no more appropriate word, lusting after girls his own age, not an older woman like me, I was more than twice his age for God's sake.

I had a little twinge in my groin, the thought of someone masturbating over nude pictures of me, the thought of my son with his dick in one hand and a nude photo of me in the other, made me feel all squidgy. Goodness Pauline, get a grip, I told myself, I should not be getting 'those' feelings, after all, he actually might not be masturbating, it may just be for a project.

I laughed, who was I kidding, he was looking at me and getting hard and shooting his load into a sock, and judging by how sticky his sock had been, it wasn't just the once. I found my hand was pressing my crotch, pushing down in reaction to the feelings and the heat that the photos and my imagination had evoked.

I imagined him lying on his bed, his shorts around his ankle, I had walked past once and seen him masturbating, his hand flying up and down his dick, and that was the image glued in my mind, shorts round his ankles. I had hurried away, that was a private moment for Paul and I didn't need to see it.

I had seen Steve masturbating on many an occasion, usually finishing off what I had started for him when I was on my period. I found it hard going, I tired and Steve would take over, going faster than I ever could, and then I watched as his dick spurted. It never really turned me on, I was just happy to give Steve some relief when my fanny was bleeding and out of commission, except occasionally in the shower, but that was rare.

My mind was working overtime, images of Paul on the bed, his hand on his dick his purple glans flashing in and out of view, his eyes focussing on the iPad, a naked image of me, his tongue sliding over his lips, his buttocks clenching and then his dick spurting. Jesus Pauline, God's sake. I put my phone down.

I almost went to my bedroom and got my Battery Operated Boy out of my bedside table, I was so close, I had 'those' feelings in my fanny, the internal twinges, the wetness, the hunger. But no, no I couldn't do that, not because of this.

"Hi Mum," Paul called and the front door slammed behind him.

"In here," I called.

I heard his bag drop onto the hall floor and he came through to the conservatory. He walked over and sort of hugged me and sort of kissed my forehead and flopped into the chair opposite.

"How's your morning been Mum?" He asked.

"Enlightening."

"Oh Mum, why enlightening?"

"It is laundry day so I went to get the washing that you fail to put into the laundry basket."

He shrugged, there was no changing him.

"Your sock for one."

He just shrugged again, he had no shame.

"Your iPad was on the bed with a screensaver."

That got his attention. "Oh, ah."

"Me. Only not me."

"No, well, yes, sort of."

"Why?"

"It was an experiment Mum, there is this AI programme called nudify, it takes a photo and removes the clothes."

"I can see that. But why?"

He was silent and I could almost see the cogs whirring in his brain. "Sorry Mum."

"But it wasn't just one was it?"

"Er."

"And you sneaked photos of me in my bedroom, God knows how you did that."

"I wanted to see how accurate the AI was."

"And when you saw that it wasn't evenly remotely accurate, why didn't you delete them."

He sat there silently looking at the floor.

"Right mister, show me."

"Show you what Mum?"

"You have seen me naked, fairs fair, if I am not to tell your Dad, who will go apeshit if I do, you can show me you naked."

"What?" He looked genuinely worried. And to be honest, I didn't know where that came from, why did I ask to see him naked?

"You have seen me nude, I need to see you nude in exchange for not telling your father."

"But why do you want to see me nude?"

"Just do it. Come on, you can come upstairs if that makes you more comfortable, come on, I am not joking."

"No Mum."

I turned my iPhone screen to him and showed him one of the photos from his iPad. "I have evidence that I will show your father. What do you think he will say?"

I stood up and headed out of the conservatory and up to my bedroom, no way I wanted to be in his bedroom, no matter how much I cleaned and opened windows, it just had that aroma.

In my room I sat on my bed and waited, I could hear him coming slowly up the stairs. He entered my bedroom looking very nervous.

"I don't want to show you my dick Mum."

"Well, you should have thought of that before you started making false pictures of me. Strip."

My intention was to make him feel uncomfortable, no way I would ever have told Steve what I had discovered, he really would have been mad, and it would have harmed their relationship and I didn't want to do that. Paul didn't need to know that, I just wanted to embarrass him and show him that actions have consequences.

Paul pulled his polo top off and dropped it onto the edge of my bed, and then he pulled his shorts down, standing in front of the bed in just his underpants.

"And your pants, come on, I don't have all day, I have another load of washing to get on."

He hesitated and then put his hands into the waist of his underpants and pushed them down, his dick hanging just in front of his balls.

"Step out of your pants and add them to the pile." I was being perhaps a little cruel.

"Not nice is it, being looked at? How do you think I feel?"

"Sorry Mum, can I get dressed now?"

"No. What do you think when you look at the picture of nude me?"

"God Mum, just how pretty you are, okay?"

I pulled up a nude of me, one of his of course, and faced it to him, "a nude like this, of me? What do you think?"

"Oh God."

I saw his dick stir and start to get hard, 'oh my God Pauline you are making your son hard,' I thought. Had I gone too far? In moments it was fully hard and sticking up, Steves only sticks forwards these days, an age thing.

"Mum, God Mum."

"So, when you look at me like that," I said stabbing a finger at the screen, "you get hard."

"Sorry Mum."

His dick was still hard. I looked at it, about the same size as his Dad, around seven inches or a palm and a half if I were holding it, and a good inch and three quarters perhaps two inches side to side. A good handful.

"And then what? You use your sock?"

He looked at the floor but his dick jerked by itself giving me my answer.

"And what do you imagine when you masturbate to naked images of me?"

"I don't know."

"Well, there is one way to find out, do it."

"What?"

"Get your dick in your hand and do it, here is a picture for you to look at and you tell me what you are imagining."

"Oh fuck Mum."

"Do it."

He took his dick in his right hand and pushed his foreskin back, his purple glans popping out, his foreskin flowing over his rim, a rim somewhat bigger than his Dad I noticed. I had that squidgy feeling back in my groin.

He pulled his foreskin back up and then he got into a rhythm going faster and faster and his breathing changing. I realised that if he went all the way and spurted then it would go everywhere and I didn't want it to land on my dress.

"Stop a minute." I got off the bed. "I don't want to get it on my dress." I undid the zipper and stepped out of my dress and sat back on the bed in my knickers and bra. "Carry on." I knew that my fanny was wet and I just hoped that it didn't show in my knickers, I wanted to mortify him, not me.

"Shit Mum you are fucking gorgeous," Paul said. I just waved my hand.

He started again, this time I noticed he was focussing on my crotch rather than the image on my phone, I hadn't checked, I had just assumed that I was properly covered up down there, it was too late to check, I just hoped I was.

"God Mum, Jesus, I wish I was looking at all of your fanny, not just the bit sticking out of your pants."

Oh my God, so I was showing.

"What are you imagining, come on, that is the point of this, you telling me what goes through your brain when you masturbate to fake images of me?"

"You naked mum, and me licking you."

"Licking me?" That surprised me, I had expected him to say shagging me.

"Yes Mum, tasting your nectar, feeling your fanny lips on my tongue, your aroma, your taste Mum."

I don't know why, I could not help myself, I put my hands to my waist and I pulled my knickers down, exposing myself fully to my son.

"Oh fuck." His dick shot spunk, he spurted twice, three times, and the distance astounded me, it landed on my belly, across my fanny and on my legs, and still his dick was hard.

I had never seen anything like it, and if I had, it was lost in the mists of time. Paul was standing there panting.

"Go into the ensuite and get some tissue, you need to clean me up." I said, his spunk cool on my skin. He rushed into the ensuite and came back with a toilet roll and started wiping my legs and then he got to my fanny and began wiping and at that point the orgasm I didn't know I was building erupted and exploded through my body.

I shrieked, my back arched and I lurched up off the bed, my breath gone, my muscles spasming before I collapsed back onto the bed.

"Oh my God," Paul said, "your cunt opened and closed."

I was lost for words; I was gasping for breath just staring at him. He leant forward and his nose was at my crease, I could hear him inhale and sigh and then his tongue slipped between my lips, a slippery feeling as my labia folded around his tongue.

I couldn't say anything, my pleasures were coursing through me, every fibre of my being was aroused and on edge. I felt him at my entrance, fingers pushing inside me, opening my fanny walls, and then moving, shagging my fanny with his fingers as his tongue found my clitoris and my back stiffened again, my pressures ready to blow again, electrics fizzing and popping my brain unable to process the pleasure.

Paul moved his head away, his fingers till inside me as he moved up to my face and lay on me, I could feel his hard dick at my crease. His fingers eased out of me and his dick moved up and down my valley and then rested at my entrance and he pushed.

"Oh fuck," I gasped as his dick pressed in, slowly filling me, going in where he once came out. I knew I should stop him, but I couldn't, I wanted him to fuck me, I needed him to fuck me and he was pushing and pushing, his belly sliding across mine, smearing the spunk he had spread earlier. 'At least I am not naked,' I thought, 'I still have my bra on.'

He pulled back, his dick leaving me, his foreskin rolling inside me, a pulse, ticking, moving within me, and then he pushed, hard fast, his belly slapping on mine, the sound echoing around the room and he pulled back, almost too far, his dick right at my entrance and he slammed back in, another slap and a grunt from me, the crude sounds of sex reverberating around my bedroom.

He was going faster and faster, harder and deeper than Steve did, I was being truly fucked, this was primal, we had both lost senses and control. My fingers were digging hard into his back, my legs came up and wrapped around him, urging him on, faster, harder, deeper.

My fanny was a blur of sensations, the slide of his dick within me, the pressure as he hit the bottom of my fanny, pressing at my cervix, his dick trying to go deeper, my fanny clamping and squeezing his dick and then he slammed in harder than ever, his dick pressing hard within me and he gasped and grunted as his dick ejaculated, filling me with his cool spunk.

My orgasm, my second, erupted, pleasures overwhelming me, pressures releasing though a scream that bounced around the walls of my bedroom, my fingers digging deeper into his back, my back stiff and my fanny squeezing his dick, draining every drop from him. I collapsed back onto the bed and closed my eyes, trying to make sense of what had happened.

Paul lay on me, his dick inside my fanny, his spunk dribbling out and slipping down towards my arse. I didn't move, I had no words, what could I say? I had encouraged my son to masturbate in front of me in an effort to shame him for making nude photos of me, and he ended up shaming me into two orgasms, and fucking me almost senseless.

He just lay there, unmoving apart from his chest which I could feel as it heaved against my breasts. He put his hand beneath me and managed to unclip my bra and pulled it from between us, now I was naked. His dick stirred and I had that incredible feeling as his dick hardened inside my fanny, such an erotic sensation, my pleasures began flowing, 'God, again?' I thought.

He began pushing, pressing in hard and then sliding back to my entrance, my fanny flooded with his sperms, his dick moved easier, and he was fucking me again, faster, easier, harder. He leant back onto his arms and looked down at my breasts.

"God your tits are fantastic, the AI is rubbish," he gasped as he fucked into me again and again. "If I was married to you I would be fucking you every night," he said as his dick drove hard into my abused fanny. I had news for him, his Dad did, very night, expect when I was on, then it was usually a handjob or a blow job, occasionally a shower shag, but Steve got his every night, I wanted to ensure he didn't stray.

"Oh God, Oh fuck," Paul gasped and I felt his spurts inside me, topping up my already full fanny and womb. I groaned with pleasure and then gasped as Paul moved and his dick fell from my fanny, leaving me feeling empty.

"Fuck mum," he said, his eyes staring at my breasts and then his gaze moved down to my fanny.

"Your fanny is all red and puffy," he said and he moved down and kissed my puffy lips, I gasped, I hadn't expected that, not that I had expected much of what had happened this afternoon.

I felt his tongue in my valley and heard him sucking, he was licking up all his spunk, cleaning my fanny, sucking away his cum, stimulating my clitoris as he moved, his nose pressing against it, my breath gasping, my fingers clutching at the bed. He moved back up and pressed his mouth against mine, and as my lips opened he poured all the spunk he had gathered into my mouth, metallic and salty and a hint of me.

He lay down beside me. "I never imagined that" he said, "I dreamt but never expected I ever would."

"Well now you have," I said, "now you can remember rather than dream."

"There is one more thing I want," he said.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Roll over Mum, your arse is mine."

I gasped, anal? He wanted anal? I rarely did that, Steve was not a fan and to be honest neither was I. Paul had his hands at my side and he rolled me over and then pulled me to my knees so my bum was jutting upwards. I felt his breath at my pucker and then his tongue, he was licking my crinkle and pressing with his tongue. It felt unbelievable, no one had tongued my bum before, I had no idea of the pleasures it released.

He licked and pressed his tongue, pushing harder until there was just a tip inside me, my sphincter having conceded, but I knew there was a big difference between a tongue and a dick, that would not enter so easily.

He pulled back and I tensed with anticipation. He was between my legs, his dick in the crack of my arse, his dick pushed at my sphincter, unrelenting, I tried to relax, but my body refused. There was a moment, a pop, and his dick made its way inside, just a short way, my arse felt tight, not quite sore, the way it feels with a really big crap.