Unsettled

Over recent years she had begun to think of the Thompsons as friends rather than acquaintances of hers; an association with them that had slowly formed because of Nancy Thomson's only child, her son Matt, being a prodigiously artistic young man of eighteen and whom she had taught in High School. He now attended many of the art classes that she organised for the town's art society.

Nancy would often come over to the venue to collect him and they would spend a few moments chattering about his skills and how to use them in the advertising agency where he had been offered an internship, rather than go to an accredited art school straightaway. He had yet to decide whether to follow that route into a career.

"I learn, I work, and I get paid for what I do," had been his stock answer when asked why he had chosen this career path.

The art society's reputation had been founded on figure drawing, along with the imaginative use of sketching materials and colours, all of it in pursuit of creativity and fun. The society always met on a Thursday evening when a piece of work was started and those attending had the weekend, and the early days of the following week, to complete their work before it was assessed at the next meeting by all who attended.

At such meetings compliments and criticism flew around the room like bees around a honey pot; no one held anything back and, as the leader of the society on such nights, she had to arbitrate and, on occasion, soothe frayed nerves and tempers.

Now, late in the evening and with everyone gathering up what had been brought for a session where Matt had posed for them, she caught him looking her way. She sensed that what had happened and been said, during the session, had taken a toll on him and there was a week before they all met again to consider what had been created, or in some cases simply produced by those less skilled in their craft.

"You did fine, Matt," she smiled as he was seen buttoning up his checkered shirt and cinching the belt in his chino shorts tight around his slender waist. Being almost six foot tall, he was a head above her, but Matt possessed an athletic grace when he moved. It was a cliché to use the phrase, but the young man before her had a 'washboard' stomach and taut abs, his biceps nicely toned and all of it a sign of being a sportsman too.

"I didn't want to let you or the class down, Connie, seeing...seeing as Tom Lennard didn't show up. I posed as you wanted, but I heard some say I hadn't gone far enough."

She saw him push back his mop of unruly sandy-blonde hair and met the enquiring gaze of his eyes upon her and paused, wondering just what to say in reply.

Like the others, she had held her sketch pad in hand and had drawn what she saw of him as he stood in various poses or was asked to sit casually on a bar stool and staying still, for a few minutes, before he was told to move into a new position, on her instructions. The whole idea was that various poses would test the drawing skills of those present.

What neither she nor those women present had expected was the sight of him in his pouch briefs. Some male models, whom they paid to attend, were unashamed to expose themselves. However, Matt was not to be persuaded as the session went on, and she felt no need to encourage him to change his mind. She had seen more than enough, shaped in those briefs, and had felt an uncommon thrill course through her belly, given her age and the circumstances. One of the women had even been heard to remark that he was

'monstrously well-hung

', and she had agreed with that quietly and only to herself.

"You've let no one down, Matt," she said and smiled to reassure him, but the sight of that bulge, the length and thickness of what was shaped under a thin cover of cotton cloth had not been missed. "You did what we asked of you...and even I had time to draw."

She kept from showing him what she had drawn; it would be for her eyes only and when she was at home and alone with the memory of what she had seen.

"Yeah, that's something I guess," he sighed, yet wondering what she had made of what he had. "Well, I'll head off home or my mom will wonder where I've got to."

She nodded as he gazed at her, a drawing pad still clutched and held against the swell of her breasts, an artist's smock managing, somehow, to flatter a fulsome figure. The young man before her was both talented and precocious, and she had wondered who the lucky young woman might be to be in his life.

"Until next week, then, Matt, and put what was said tonight about you from your mind. Some people reckon you can just say what you want."

"I noticed."

She wondered how she would do the same, and put everything from her mind, after what she had seen of him and was sketched out in her drawing pad. The precociously talented young man had other attributes that she had sketched with a trembling hand.

♥

Nancy listened attentively as her son told her of his day that had ended with the art club meeting and his decision to pose for those in attendance, more women than men.

"Connie was let down by the guy who agreed to pose, so I took his place. It got to be embarrassing because of...because of you know what. Some of the women there couldn't stop saying things..."

"About what you have, darling?"

"Yeah, that!" he answered sharply. "Connie was discreet, but I knew that she was surprised too. At least...at least she understood that I'd only agree to do it if I kept my briefs on and not have my dick swinging around every time that I had to change the pose that she wanted."

He remembered the classes when one of the younger women posed and he'd sure been glad to be in jeans and a T-shirt that he wore to his work. No one knew that Becky Williams, and the sight of her in a diaphanous shawl and wearing nothing more than a thong, had made him so hard that it ached without any chance of relief.

"But they still saw what you packed in your briefs?"

"Yeah, Mom, they did, and it was enough. Please don't go on about it, or I'll think you're wondering too, why I've been given what I have down there. The guys at college and on the basketball team don't have it like I do. It makes me feel like a freak. Have I got that louse of a father to blame for this? Did he have a length like mine too?"

She went to stand in front of him and stroked his cheek. Admitting that she was glad to have him still living with her went unsaid. It was good to have a man about the house that made her pay continuing attention to her appearance and what she wore. At times she'd meet his look upon her and know what lay behind it.

"No darling, he didn't, and what he did have I sure don't miss...where he's concerned at least."

She had her moments of frustration and eased them away whenever they threatened to overwhelm her. As Matt grew through his teens, she was always curious if there was any girlfriend who knew just what he had been blessed with and what she had seen when he had been much younger.

Curiosity had gotten the better of her, one morning, and when he'd been in the shower getting ready for college. She had found his iPhone in his bedroom and opened it. Scrolling through pictures in their folder, she had soon seen one of him posing naked in front of a mirror, his penis like a thick snake and dangling against his thigh, flaccid and long. She'd felt a little unsteady on seeing it; that pole of six or seven inches of flesh that was her handsome son's penis. She realised then, as she did now, and he told her of the art class, that not every girl he went with could take him when fully aroused.

"Well, it's late. I think I'll turn in," he said in a subdued voice, casting an unmistakable and admiring glance her way.

"Don't take it to heart, darling." She moved to embrace him and felt Matt's arms go around her waist. Was she mistaken that she could feel his erection against her tummy? He was not a pubescent youngster, but a young adult man, and she wondered if something should be said as she had once done about relationships and sex. They were open about these matters. She had fulfilled the role of mother and father for way too long to go and be reticent about such things now. "Are you feeling frustrated?"

Matt laughed sharply out of embarrassment.

"Yeah, I guess I am, seeing as...seeing as I've broken up with Susie Connors. She said she couldn't take what I have and that I hurt her when..." he shrugged and left the rest unsaid.

"I'm sorry if that happened, darling, but that's not your fault. Susie still has to grow some more," she said in a reassuring voice, aware that they were standing in a loosened embrace. "She's petite, rather like me, but I'm a woman and Susie's still a girl."

Matt eased out of her embrace and sighed. "Well, that's all over and I'm left wondering, after tonight, and what Susie said, if there's something wrong with me."

Nancy grabbed his arm and spoke sternly.

"You've got nothing to apologise for or to be ashamed of, do you hear me? You're growing into a real man, and you'll meet someone who can take you...and if you allow her time to open for you. Slow and loving is always best."

"Mom...don't go no," he smiled in some embarrassment at her direct ways of saying it.

"Mom nothing, it's only the truth. "She kissed him on the cheek and lingered as if to reassure him, yet thinking that her son and his monster cock were perfect specimens. "If you're so worried about how you're made, perhaps I should see you and tell you what I think?"

"Now I

really

am going to bed!" he laughed with a disbelieving shake of the head. "Goodnight Mom!"

"Goodnight darling. Don't worry, you're perfect and it's not just your mom who's telling you that."

Yes, she was his mother but also a woman with feelings and needs that went unrequited. She lived in the hope that the right man would again enter her life, but did not dwell on that too often. She had her son and work to think of, in that order.

♥

He lay in bed and thought through the evening's events and what had been said, both by Connie and his mom, Nancy. Each, in their way, had gotten to him and he wondered just where relationships with each of them were now headed.

Nancy often looked 'hot' in her homely ways of it, dressed in fleecy sleep pants and a loose-fitting long-sleeved T-shirt, her tits shaped and often swaying as she moved. He'd often seen the nightdresses in the washing basket, along with her panties and bras, and had sniffed them, or taken a pair into his room where he worked his length to thoughts of her and after the relationship with Susie was beginning to hit the skids. His Mom was right, as usual. Susie was younger than him by two years and she wasn't ready for a guy hung like him and what he did with it.

On the other hand, Connie had given him the eye when she had told him that she too had sketched him as he posed almost naked on the podium and in front of everyone. She would certainly be able to take him in and thoughts of her would be a distraction from Nancy who fed his unrequited and destructive appetite now that he had no one to get lost in.

"Jeez, Mom, how can you go on living here and only with me?" he muttered as his hand began to work his length furiously and the nagging pressure in his penis became stronger. There had only been two lovers in her life through the years after divorce, twelve in all since his father ran out on them.

He grabbed a wad of tissues from the box on the bedside table, just in time as the images of two curvy women merged into one and he was fucking her to a wasting conclusion.

"I must be getting depraved and a little crazy to behave like this, after what happened at an art class, goddammit!"

♥

Nancy brushed out her silken blonde hair before she turned off the bedside light. It was a nightly routine that she followed.

Lying in her darkened bedroom, she listened for any sounds that might inform her that Matt was still awake. The things that had been said, at the art club, had affected him and she was dismayed to feel that way too.

Feelings of longing, fed by frustration, were churning her up inside. She felt both disgust from knowing that she fantasised about him as he must be doing about her, the washing in the laundry basket often disturbed and one of her most intimate garments was often found to be missing when she knew that she had put it there.

Matt was no pubescent kid, not anymore, but it had become clear from their conversation this evening that events had been getting to him long before the night's art class and his volunteering to pose.

Matt had not said it, that even Connie, his former art teacher and an organiser at the art society meeting, had seen what he packed in his briefs. If he had sometimes said that his mom looked 'hot' when she was dressed to go out on what turned out to be a wasted date, then the same might be thought, not said, of Connie.

Jeez! Her boy must be getting frustrated if girlfriends ditched him because of that wonderful tool that she knew he packed away, that he might even be working it off, from time to time, with her panties. That depraved idea suggested that he fantasized about her and what a turn-on that was!

She'd have to get off and use her dildo before she went to sleep. No! She would see if he was still awake, and they would have to talk. What had happened at the art club meeting, what had been said, had gotten to her too.

Feelings of both lust and absolute shame possessed her as she stumbled from her bed, smoothing her nightdress down over her thighs, and made her way slowly along the landing and tapped on Matt's bedroom door.

"Matt, darling...are you still awake?"

♥

Matt met his lovely mother's wistful look as the bedroom door was pushed but not shut. A familiar nightdress that he had seen in the washing basket, countless times, now flattered her figure. She brushed back her silken blonde hair as he noted the pendant necklace, that he had seen her wearing when he had arrived home with her, remained at her throat, the bauble nestling neatly in her cleavage.

"You look worried," he said, impulsively putting a hand on her shoulder and feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric. She hadn't called in on him, in his room, for a long time. "Are you still bothered by what I told you?"

"Yes, and you are too if you're still up. What are you doing if not thinking about that?" She glanced over his shoulder and saw the rumpled covers on his bed. "Did you get up and do some work?"

"Sort of. I was just checking that I have my work schedule for tomorrow all sorted out." He felt her closeness as his laptop was put away. Now he turned to look at her. "What's on your mind?"

"I...I..." She couldn't control the tremble in her voice as she saw how his pyjamas had a noticeable bulge in them that had not been there before. Were her breasts shaped by her nightdress? Was the fabric so thin that he would think that she was naked to his sight? "I just wanted to see that you're really okay and wondered what I could do to reassure you that it's no deformity that you have...down there."

He followed her gaze as they stood awkwardly close. "Hey, Mom!"

Her touch on him had sent a shock wave through his belly and he felt his prick harden some more. Fingering it was of no use, and she now held his wrist to stop him from touching it.

"I...I want to see it...what you have that scares off your latest girlfriend and has everyone talking as if there's something wrong. I can't stop thinking of what it's doing to you...for no believable reason. You're made the way that you are, and I'll always be glad of that and proud of you."

He laughed in disbelief. "It's just weird what you're asking me to do...to expose myself."

"Yes, but not to just anyone!" she snapped, her motions running high and in conflict with a sense of propriety. "Come on, please Matt! Do it for me!"

Matt paused and gave her a challenging stare before he turned away for a moment. Sighing audibly, he shoved down his lounge pants until they pooled around his ankles, and after he had tugged the waistband free of his erection. He then kicked them away and was left wearing only his T-shirt that he slept in.

"Take a good look at what makes other people say what they do!"

"Oh, son!"

She had gasped in dismay to see it and now she swallowed hard as she continued to stare at his enormous cock. In the picture, on his phone that she had secretly seen, it had been flaccid and had hung down over his left thigh. Now, it twitched and pointed out from his belly and jerked when he took a step away.

She reached for it.

"Don't, I don't think that's such a good idea." What he asked of her was at odds with how he felt. There was a surge of longing for her and a woman's body that was now pressing against him.

Nancy pushed her hands under his T-shirt and dragged it up and over his head, her lips soon pressing against the toned skin of his chest as her hands clamped on his twitching prick. She was acting as a horny and seducing lover, not the mother of the young man in her arms; a son with a length of meat that she wanted to keep on touching, stroking, and caressing with agile fingers. She wanted to see if being so close to him would make it grow even longer. It felt enormous and she shuddered.

Matt slowly raised his hands and stroked her back, then moved them to caress the sides of her breasts before she eased away, just enough, to allow him to put them on her breasts and to squeeze them.

"Go on, but it'll feel better for us if you undress me." She clung to him even as Matt awkwardly slid the thin cotton nightie over her body. She groped for him once more, her hands searching and claiming him like a magnet drawn to metal.

She murmured and sucked suggestively on his earlobe as he palmed her buttocks, shoving his hands under the waistband of her panties. She ached with longing for him now and gushed. He'd soon find out what had made the panties, that he'd taken from the washing basket, damp and smell the way that they did.

"We shouldn't be doing this, Mom..."

"Yes, we should. I know, now, how you'd hurt someone young and not ready for you. You're big, darling...bigger than anyone I've seen or been with."

She knelt before him and slicked her tongue up and down the sides of his trembling prick, swirled over the domed tip and only took some of it in her gaping mouth. Matt stood quite still as he took in the craziness of the moment. Her breasts felt wonderful, her body warm, and what she did with her hands and mouth on his tool was unlike anything the girls had done for him.

"Mom! We'll never undo what is happening if we go on!"

"I know that darling," she replied, trailing kisses over his body as she stood up and then pressing her lips to his chest as she kept on stroking and tugging on him, but not intending to bring him on so far that he'd lose it. "You know better than anyone how it's been for me. I'm alone and wanted it to be that way until the right guy came along, but that's not happened. Now I need moments with you...call it giving and taking comfort to each other."

For the first time that night, and before that, she pressed her mouth against his parted lips and kissed him as a lover would. She felt Matt hesitate before they kissed and groped each other in a frenzy of concessions to their needs.

"Go on and touch me wherever you want!" she demanded with a deep gasp of breath as she realised that there was no turning back from this moment. She wanted her boy inside her and for them to fuck; for her to discover what it felt like to have a man's penis, so long and thick, in her body.

He looked down at the tumble of her breasts and slowly bent to kiss them, to suck on each nipple, and to tug on it as she slowly guided them in slow steps to his bed. He had begun to squeeze gently, but her tugs on his penis and the urgency of their kisses made him close his lips on one and drag it over her skin until he tugged on a hard nipple, rolling it between his lips.