Sleepwaling Son's Coc

The next day, after Mark left for Community College, I decided to look in his room for clues to his behavior. He had been sleepwalking for about four years, but this sexual thing was new. I wanted to understand what might be triggering him. I didn't like to invade his privacy, and didn't want to embarrass him by asking pointed questions, so I told myself it was my responsibility to check his room.

I looked through the books on his shelves, but there was nothing unusual or hidden between the pages. I tried to access his computer, but he had a hard to crack password and I had no luck. Before I left, I decided to look in his sketch books to see if there was anything new in them. Mark is a talented artist. He draws pen and ink sketches all the time, so he has piles of drawings all over his room and sketch books stacked in his closet.

I looked through the recent drawings on his desk. They were all nature drawings, still life and sketches of people in the park. There were so many sketch books that I couldn't go through them all. I skimmed through the top few layers and found nothing unusual. I was about to close the closet, when I noticed a green bound volume under a pile of clothes. I fished it out and sat on Mark's bed.

As I opened the book at the first sketch, I'm sure my eyes widened and my mouth dropped open. It was a realistic pen and ink drawing of me. The artist was viewing me from behind. In the foreground was a large erect penis. I was depicted kneeling on the floor, naked, scrubbing the tiles. Mark had exaggerated my curves and my breasts looked massive and pornographic with dark, elongated nipples brushing the floor. My butt was also larger and rounder than life. My thighs were spread open, exposing my smooth-shaved vagina. From my lips, a drop of lubricant was about to drip on the tiled floor. As I scrubbed the floor, my head was turned, looking back over my shoulder at the artist and his stiff cock, a lascivious smile on my half-open mouth.

I took in the details in shock. Was this how Mark imagined me? When had he begun to see me in such a sexualized way? Had I been giving him signals? I turned the page.

In the next drawing, I was bending over Mark's bed, holding a thermometer as if I had just taken his temperature. This would be an appropriate motherly role, except for the way I was dressed. Mark had clothed me in a tight, sheer black nightdress. Underneath I was naked. My voluptuous breasts were poking through the thin veil, my nipples stiff and obviously aroused. My mound was also clearly visible between my thighs and my free hand was lifting the sheer nightdress to expose my swollen clitoris. The thermometer had a gradation that simply read "HOT".

"My God!" I breathed. I was remembering our recent intimacies while Mark had been sleepwalking. Were these drawings inspired by my responses to Mark or fantasies that caused him to sleepwalk into my room in the first place?I must have played a part in making Mark imagine me in these erotic ways. Had I been putting out signals before he ever entered my bedroom?

Discovering Mark's secret fantasies was shocking, but it confirmed for me that Mark had not just randomly sleepwalked into my room. He might have masturbated anywhere in the house if he was simply overloaded with hormonal cravings. Now I knew that, consciously or not, he had chosen my room for a reason. I couldn't help myself. Seeing how Mark fantasized about me was very arousing. I had not thought of myself as a sexual being for some time and Mark's drawings gave me a huge self esteem boost. Even though I knew it was wrong on every level, I stripped naked, lay back on Mark's unmade bed and rubbed my clit to a huge orgasm.

As the waves of deep pleasure subsided, I turned over and, with my nipples brushing the pages, I opened the next sketch. Again, I was standing over Mark's bed naked except for a thong pulled half way down and stretched between my thighs. I was gripping his hair and holding his face close to my exposed pussy, inviting him to sniff and kiss me.

On the next page I was handcuffed with my hands behind my back, my shoulders drawn back and my huge breasts thrust out invitingly. Mark was behind me in this sketch, slapping my luscious ass with one hand and masturbating his huge erection with the other as he came all over my spanked ass. Drips of cum were sliding down my back and dripping between my cheeks.

I dropped the book and lay back on Mark's sheets, using both hands to finger myself and rub my clit. I grabbed his pillow, stuffed it between my thighs and rode it to another explosive orgasm, squirting all over the pillowcase. I imagined him smelling me on his pillow that night and jerking off. Thinking of his beautiful young cock shooting cum over his belly, I groaned aloud as I rubbed my clit to a third explosion.

As I gently replaced his sketch book in the closet and slipped out the door, Mark's room smelled strongly of sex and pussy. I knew there were more drawings, but I wanted to save them for my next visit. Seeing myself through Mark's eyes had opened a new door inside me. I had a strong desire to be the woman Mark was dreaming about. I felt the power of my sexuality in a way I never had before. Imagining how I could use that power over my son made my fantasies run wild.

I also recognized, that in the drawings I had seen so far, Mark had not crossed the line by depicting us having penetrative sex. All the images were of teasing and masturbation. I decided I wanted to go shopping online. I went to my computer and started looking at images of women in lingerie, bodystockings, heels and sheer underwear. I pictured myself wandering through the house in these skimpy outfits. Whatever Mark wanted, Mark would get. After all, I'm his mother.