Sex stories, mom and son fall for each other in a very unorthodox way, incest… Amanda looked in the mirror and sighed. Although only forty-one and still in amazing shape, she could see the first wrinkles of aging. Watching an infomercial on television about an anti-aging crème, she ordered some, desperate to keep the vibrant youthful look that had always kept her employable.
A professional model since her teen years, she had been told her whole life how beautiful she was, but age was not her friend and she hadn’t felt beautiful of late.
Since hitting forty, the kryptonite age for models, the gigs had slowed down considerably and although she had always been financially secure for both herself and her son, she was determined to get him a good trust fund for college and thus needed to keep working.
Amanda and her son, Kevin, eighteen and in his senior year (he started a year late because they were travelling throughout Europe at the time he should have started kindergarten), were very close. They had always only had each other, as her deadbeat boyfriend (and his absentee father) walked out before Kevin was born.
Although Amanda was beautiful, she had not been in a relationship in years, having been betrayed over and over by men who went to bed with ‘a model’ and woke up with her. Instead, the only man she cared about was her son.
Just when things were beginning to look grim, she got a job at an upscale store that used living mannequins. They were very insistent on preserving the illusion and mannequins moving or flinching or reacting to customers is a big no-no.
Having modelled and posed for years, Amanda assumed that the job wouldn’t be overly difficult, having worked with some very demanding and intense photographers. Yet, over the first week, she really struggled to not react slightly when customers moved close to her, made faces and especially when men made lewd comments toward her. Amanda was still a very beautiful woman, with firm long legs, blonde hair, blue eyes, a tight ass and small, 32B breasts that were still firm and amazing looking with the right push-up bra, and thus was admired by boys and men.
The manager threatened her to either do it completely right or he would have to replace her. Having been replaced by younger models for many jobs in the past couple of years, she was determined to keep the job and prove him wrong.
That night, during dinner, Amanda explained her problem to her son.
Kevin suggested, “You should practice at home.”
“That’s a great idea,” Amanda nodded.
Kevin, who had spent his whole life around models, and still saw his mother as the most beautiful woman in the world, explained, “The key is to get used to being touched or ogled.”
“I know,” Amanda agreed, “I usually don’t care what anyone says to me, or if some creepy guy is checking me out, but I feel so helpless when I’m not allowed to move. I feel completely vulnerable.”
“Let’s finish eating and then I’ll help you practice,” Kevin offered, liking the idea of touching his mother.
“Sure, what have I got to lose?” Amanda agreed.
“Your job,” he quipped, loving to tease his mom.
“Brat,” she laughed, her son always able to cheer her up.
Once dinner was done, Amanda posed in a similar position as she did at work, dressed in a 1950’s poodle skirt, as part of that week’s ‘decades’ theme.
Kevin moved her arms and legs a bit, poked her on the side and made funny faces at her. She struggled a bit, especially when she was poked in the side, but overall did better.
That night, Kevin masturbated while thinking of fucking his mother like he usually did, but this time the scenario changed as he imagined moving her into positions in which he wanted to fuck her.
The next day Amanda did better at work and thus began a daily routine of mannequin practice.
Every night they spent about fifteen minutes practicing, each day Kevin spending a little longer touching his mother, even tickling her, during which Amanda really struggled with maintaining her composure. Each evening, Kevin stroked himself with taboo fantasies of incest imagining making love to his mother.
The following week Amanda came home Sunday with her outfit for Monday. She walked in front of the television and froze wearing a tennis outfit with a very short skirt while holding a tennis racket.
Kevin’s cock instantly hardened at the sight of his mother in such a sexy outfit. He stood up and pulled the racket out of her hands, the television show no longer interesting. Although a struggle, Amanda stayed in position. He treated her like a live Barbie doll moving her head, arms, and legs, being more aggressive than he had in the past. Then, getting slightly more adventurous, he ran his hands down her perfectly toned legs. Although he loved everything about her: her blonde hair, exotic green eyes, dazzling smile, great ass, perky breasts and overall great personality, it was her legs, whether bare and tanned or in any style of hosiery (thigh highs, pantyhose, fishnets, garter and stocking) that really turned him on.
Amanda felt a chill go up her spine and a tingle down below at the intimate touch of her son, but credited it to the incredible lack of intimate contact in recent years.
Kevin didn’t want this to end, but also didn’t want to seem like a pervert, and thus ended the sly touching of his mother.
They continued practising every night and Amanda began to both look forward to her playtime with her son and to get sexually excited by his touch. At first she found the practice time a fun activity to do with her son, something out of the ordinary and different. Yet as time progressed, it began to be strangely erotic in a taboo but innocent way. She enjoyed his soft, firm hands on her body, a sudden reminder of the intimacy she had long forgotten existed. She began to make it a game by every night posing when he came home from school, always in a different outfit, the one she was to wear the next day at work.
One day she dressed in camping gear, another day in tight running shorts, another time in a beautiful cocktail dress, another day as a maid. Each day Kevin tested his mother, each day he got rock hard and each day his touches became just slightly more intimate, always trying to push the boundary just slightly, wondering how far his mother would really let him go. Never touching her breasts or vagina, but each day moving closer and closer to the forbidden area.
As much as Kevin was tempted, he was an eighteen year old boy after all. Amanda was getting more and more confused. Why did she like her son’s touch so much? Why did she look forward to these imitate moments? Why was she craving his touch? Why was she having dreams that ended up with her having sex with her son? She continued to blame it on her lengthy dry spell, but every day the temptation seemed to grow inside her more and more. ‘Is incest really such a bad thing?’ she pondered to herself after the most recent touching where his fingers were teasingly close to her damp pussy.