All characters engaged in sex acts are eighteen or older.
Quinn couldn't stop fidgeting. Now matter how he turned, he was either in the shot or Mom didn't like his angle of the camera he held. She stood there in front of her full-length bedroom mirror in her workout clothes: gray and green yoga pants with a green sports bra. You could damn near see everything and Quinn was embarrassed to be doing this. Her fit belly was exposed and you could see a hint of her hard nipples poking through her bra. Mom had her leg up on the ottoman and was sticking her butt out.
"No, Quinn, you can't see enough from there. You have to get behind me and in the mirror. And don't get the pile of clothes on the bed." Their house wasn't that messy, but Mom liked to keep up appearances. They were in Mom's small bedroom.
"There's not any way to get this perfect. And do you really think this is good for a dating profile? Isn't it a little risqué?" He was beet red, seeing his mom's big butt straining against her pants. Her curves overwhelmed him. Try as she might, she couldn't get her butt down to a size she liked, though she was fit otherwise. "You look good enough without this."
She side-eyed him over her shoulder. "Thanks, Babe, but you don't know what it's like. I have women ten years younger than me to compete with. Guys set their age range so low." She huffed. Sofia, of Sofie as she preferred, was in great shape for her forty seven years. She was mostly happy with the way she looked with clothes on, other than the size of her butt. But her breasts hung too low for her liking, ever since she had nursed Quinn twenty years earlier. The kind of crap men said to her on dating apps had made her as insecure as she had ever been. Her hair was brown and in a pixie cut, shot through with a few veins of silver. It complimented her thin face and made her pointy nose look a little more delicate. Her large, round glasses lay on her bedside table.
"Don't you think it's better to give guys an honest look at you?" Quinn grumbled.
She turned to face him, and had that
look,
the one she had when Quinn said something wrong. "Excuse me, young man. There's nothing dishonest about what I'm doing. I don't like your attitude. All you're doing is holding a phone and taking pictures. It's not something I can do on my own, they come out looking awful." That seemed impossible to Quinn. His mom was a pretty lady in his mind, she had been since he was little, and age had done nothing to tarnish her looks. It just bothered him how she acted sometimes. Like a lady and a mom shouldn't take pictures like this. "It won't be much longer," she said.
After a few shots in this pose, Sofie looked over the pictures with Quinn and was reluctantly satisfied. He was uncomfortably aware of her body as she looked over his shoulder. "Ok now I have a couple more poses," she said.
"Shit, Mom," Quinn whined.
"You watch your language with me. Why can't you just support your mom? I'm just trying to find someone to be happy with. Just because I'm forty seven doesn't mean I have to be a nun."
Quinn held his tongue, preferring not to opine on what kind of man this would attract or what kind of assumptions they would make about his mom. He had never said the word "slut" to his mom, not to her directly. He had called a girl on TV a slut once and Mom was wrathful God pissed. But in his deepest darkest thoughts he was afraid that his mom was too loose, too open. It was too distressing to even form a coherent thought on this. But it bothered him that she wanted to show off to men like this. The thought of her having sex with a guy on her dating apps was like a pebble in his shoe he couldn't quite seem to get out. It wouldn't be the first time, though. Mom had made him promise to behave if she brought a guy home, but it was hard.
"Now help me put these clothes away," she said. Quinn obeyed without complaint, relieved for a mundane task. It was just the two of them in the small house, and she needed his help. They had to move out of his dad's old house when they got divorced. He was old enough to choose where to go, and though he was pissed at her, he went with Mom. He told himself that she needed his help more than dad did, even though the divorce was her fault.
Red faced, Quinn hung up a blouse, a bra, and folded a pair of panties. He imagined Mom dropping these to the floor as some balding old goat leered at her, ready to rut. It made him supremely uncomfortable. After they finished he turned to leave.
"Hold on," Mom said.
Quinn turned around, a scowl on his face. "Mom, no more. Please."
"Quinn, you're the only one I have." Her voice was sharp. "Now get your butt over here and I don't want to hear any more complaining."
He trudged over to her and took the phone. Sofia got up on the bed and got on her hands and knees. Quinn squirmed as she turned her butt toward the camera. She stopped right there, her big butt right in his face. "Now be sure to get my face," Mom looked around the side, and put the sweetest smile on her face. How she would fake smile this good escaped Quinn.
Choking back every complaint and mean comment that shot through his head, he took the pictures, making sure his face told his mom how he felt about this. Sofia even put her hand on the side of her butt, like she was going to spread it open. He seethed.
He snapped pictures for what seemed like an eternity and breathed a sigh of relief when Mom came over to look at them. Mom breathed a heavy sigh. "Ok, Quinn. Thank you. So there's one more pose I want to do." He shot her a dirty look. "You have to turn around for a minute."
As he turned around the horrors multiplied in his head. What the fuck was Mom doing that he couldn't see? Then he heard the rustle of clothes and wondered what she was taking off or putting on. To compound his horror, he felt the familiar thump in his dick, like a generator turning on. His cock started to puff up like a clown's balloon animal.
"Ok, Babe. I really appreciate you doing this," it was amazing how sweet Mom could make her voice sound. It did nothing to calm his erection. "Come on now, turn around."
Quinn's motion was painfully slow as he turned to face his Mom. To his further distress she had taken her sports bra off. Her naked boobs were in her hands, and this time her smile was embarrassed and she was blushing. The phone trembled in Quinn's hand.
"This is the last one," Mom said. "You're almost done, Babe. I really appreciate this." There was nothing he could say. Quinn snapped a few pictures of his topless mom. He was so hard he felt like his cock would explode, furious that she was making him feel this way. His Mom turned this way and that, each look on her face more sultry than the last. She made kissy-face, a wink, and even, to Quinn's further horror, fuck-me eyes.
When he was done his mom had him turn around one more time and soon he felt her next to him, her arm around his shoulder. To his relief her top was back on. Her breast pushed into him and his face burned. "Sugar Lump, thank you so much!" She kissed his head, then his cheek. "You've really helped your mommy out, Babe."
He turned to face her, and seeing her shining, happy eyes helped him a bit. She kissed him on the lips. "What a good boy. The best boy."
—
Quinn felt weird for the rest of the day. He had never been comfortable with his mom acting sexual in any way, and it had always been a sore point between them. It was supremely awkward for him to be around. It was his job that day to rake the leaves, and he was out sweating and jerking the old rake. It was November, and he was home from college, missing this semester. Mom couldn't afford to send him this term and his dad considered him a traitor for siding with Mom. The hope was that he could go back the next year. The guilt over being a burden like this ate him up, and he hated that Mom had to work so hard for him. It made him feel all the more guilty when he got angry at his mom for dating and bringing guys home.
This time, though, he couldn't get her out of his head. He imagined he was taking Mom's picture again, with her holding her boobs. In his fantasy her hands slipped and exposed the entirety of her naked tits. She occasionally walked around the house without a bra, and the image of her tits throbbed in Quinn's mind. They were on the small size of medium and were pendulous. He thought back to the way they moved when she walked.
Quinn's cock was starting to get hard again and it slapped against the inside of his thigh as he worked. His hands trembled as he held the rake. They had been moved out for a little less than a year, and the divorce just recently finalized. Mom had cheated on Dad, and her boyfriend, Jared, had been around even after the divorce. He was at least ten years younger than Mom, and Quinn was so hostile to him that he stopped coming around and eventually they broke up. He and Mom had some nasty fights over it. He hated what she had done to the family, but at the same time felt like she was taken advantage of, like he had to protect her. After breaking up with Jared, it was like she was seeing a new guy every week. She was a pretty lady, hot as hell in fact for a woman her age. She was all natural, and had crow's feet, smile lines, and graying hair. The photoshoot earlier that day reminded Quinn of her thin waist and big butt. He squirmed with discomfort.
After dumping the leaves, he came inside, heading to the kitchen to get a cold drink. Sweat dripped down his face, and he couldn't get his mom's body out of his mind. When he got to the refrigerator, there was a note.
Quinn- I'm out running some errands and getting food for dinner tonight. Be back in an hour. Love, Mom.
He took the note down and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator.
As horny as he was, he was about to go off to his room and jerk off, surely cumming swiftly. As he headed out the kitchen down the hall, he heard something. It sounded like music. He followed the source, coming into the living room and seeing Mom's laptop on the coffee table. He started to turn around, but then a thought struck him. Mom's computer was on and hadn't locked from being idle. Quinn guessed it was because of the music.
He had wondered for a while what her dating profile looked like. Putting the pictures up that they had taken would surely attract the wrong kind of guy, and he needed to see just how bad it was. He came toward the computer and saw that Mom had her browser minimized. Hopefully she had it so that it remembered her and she didn't have to log in every time. She was on a couple of them, and he knew
Eros
was one.
Sitting down on the new couch and putting down his beer, he brought up the browser. There were a few tabs open, and the one she was looking at was a pork loin recipe for dinner tonight. He checked the other tabs. One was her music and the other... Why the hell was she on
SmutShrine
? Quinn had been on before, and subscribed to some of the free girls, but he thought it was ridiculous to pay a monthly subscription just to see a single naked girl. Plenty of them made bank, though.
What could Mom possibly be looking at on
SmutShrine
? He opened the tab. For a second he scanned the profile. There were a few pics, apparently Mom was subscribed. One of them was completely naked with her back turned, with short hair and a big butt. He moved forward in the photo series and saw her bending over, her pussy and asshole visible. Her screen name was
RomanianPixie_xo
and she was pretty hot. Mom had good taste, but Quinn had never heard anything from Mom about being attracted to girls. She had moved here from Romania when she was a teenager, and somewhere inside him he hoped against hope that she was just trying to meet people from the old country. His blood pumped hot, this was doing nothing to calm his boner. He reached down the front of his pants and started rubbing his cock, already slick with precum.
He flipped to the next picture and his blood ran cold. She was still bent over, and this time she was spreading her ass open with one hand. She was looking back, her face peeking around the curve of her ass with an easy smile. The glasses, the short hair, her smiling face. It was Mom.
Quinn gasped and quickly shut the laptop, pushing it so hard it almost fell of the coffee table onto the floor. His beer spilled and he scrambled to set the can right. The image of Mom spreading her ass was burned into his eyes. She had made the same pose earlier that day when he had taken her picture, but with her pants on. It was bad enough at the time, he had no idea that there was a version a thousand times more lewd.
—
The cold water ran down Quinn's body as he tried to shake the image of his mom's naked ass from his mind. How could she? Wasn't it enough for her to betray her family? Now she had to parade her body around online like some kind of slut. Quinn's stomach was sick. All the same, he was getting hard again thinking about her, despite the cold water. Anyone would want to look at a beautiful woman like Mom, but couldn't she have a little modesty?
On top of being angry at his mom, he was also angry at his own reaction. As bad as it was her taking pictures like this, what kind of pervert was he getting hard thinking about her? He struggled to be alright with her dating, and he seethed when she brought a guy home. It was her having sex that broke up her and Dad's marriage. But what kind of sick guy gets horny for his mom? After he closed the computer he tried to jerk off, hoping that cumming would clear his mind. Unfortunately, every time he closed his eyes, there she was, ass in the air ready for his cock. He had held off masturbating for a couple of hours, even though he was desperate to climax.
There was a loud thumping and Quinn started, almost falling over. His mom cracked the door and shouted inside, "Hey Quinn, I'm home. I'm going to start cooking in an hour or so." He was in his bathroom, silently grateful that there was a shower curtain instead of a glass door like in Mom's room.
"Ok, Mom, thanks," he said, holding back a million questions, criticisms, and even insults he wanted to throw at her. If he let on that he was this irate with her, she would want to know what it was about and he had never been good at hiding stuff from her. If she pushed he was afraid that he would have to tell her everything.
He scrubbed and scrubbed, but there was no way he could scrub his mind. He had no luck with it and left the shower just as hard as before, using all his strength not to touch himself.
—
