Stag Party Mom

Literotic asexstories – Stag Party Mom by Original_Aramis

(Author’s note: this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person(s) living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual situations in this story are at least 18 years of age. This work is copyrighted and may not be distributed in any way by any person(s) without the express written consent of the author.)

Carol walked into her 19-year-old son’s bedroom carrying an empty laundry basket, on her way to pick up his dirty clothes that she knew would be scattered all over his room and put them in the washer. Sure enough, her son Hugh’s room was a mess as usual, with clothes scattered all over the place. She stood in the doorway for a moment and sighed, looking around the room, then started picking up his clothes and putting them in the laundry basket.

When she went over to his computer desk to pick up a shirt that was tossed over the back of the beat-up old office chair he used, she noticed that he had left his laptop open and that it was on, the screensaver showing pictures of WWII airplanes one after the other. She reached over to close the lid but paused when her hand was less than an inch away. She stood there, looking at the laptop for a minute, trying to decide what to do.

‘Do I look at what he’s been doing on the computer or not?’ she thought to herself. ‘If I do then I’m guilty of invading his privacy, something that I said I’d never do. On the other hand, if I don’t and he’s into something dangerous that could hurt him, I’d never forgive myself if I passed up the opportunity to discover it and put a stop to it before something bad happens.’

“Decisions, decisions,” she said aloud to herself, her hand hovering over the laptop. She thought about it for another ten seconds or so, then put the laundry basket on the floor and sat down in his chair, facing the laptop.

“He’s probably got a password on it anyway,” she said as she reached out and pressed the spacebar to deactivate the screen saver.

Much to her surprise, the screen saver clicked off and there was his desktop, the icons arranged in two neat rows along the left side of the screen. Then she noticed what picture he was using as a wallpaper, and her eyes flew open wide while her mouth fell open, her hand coming up to her mouth in surprise.

“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed, looking at a picture of a much younger version of her, completely naked, lying on her side on a white bearskin rug, a big smile on her face.

“Oh, my GOD!” she exclaimed again, recognizing the picture from a photo shoot she had done for “Stag Party Magazine” in 2001 when she was 19 years old. She was a young college student struggling to pay her way through college since her parents couldn’t afford it, and when a girlfriend of hers told her about a nude modeling gig she had gotten which was paying top dollar for nude models, Carol figured why not. So she contacted the magazine and made an appointment for a photo screening. Once there, the editor took one look at her after she took off her blouse and bra and signed her on the spot, forgoing the usual test shoot to see how she photographed. The only question he had asked her was ‘are those real?’ and that was it.

Carol was a brunette with big, round eyes, a very cute face, and a simply stunning figure. She stood a petite 5’3″ tall, weighed 110 pounds, and her measurements were 39-24-36. She wore a size 36F bra to contain her spectacular breasts, which were without a doubt her best asset and what got her the modeling job to begin with. Her breasts were very big and very full, longer than they were round; she learned early on in her short modeling career that breasts of that shape were referred to as ‘torpedo tits,’ or just ‘torpedoes.’ They were capped with large areola with two pert, seemingly perpetually erect nipples in the middle. She had no idea why, but her nipples were always standing out, even when she wasn’t aroused. This had caused her no small amount of irritation until she realized that the attention it got her could be used to her advantage; since then she didn’t mind, and even went so far as to showcase them from time to time.

She sat there looking at the wallpaper on her son’s computer, remembering that particular shoot since it was her first. She never cared for the smooth-shaven look or the ‘landing strips’ that most women seemed to favor in those days, choosing to keep her pubic hair as natural as she could. She trimmed the edges into a neat triangle and shaved her outer lips, but she let the rest of it grow out with an occasional trim when it got too long. Her pubic hair as well as the hair on her head was very dense and thick, which a lot of men loved (as she later found out).

She also remembered that the photographer was stunned by her big tits, losing his concentration for just a moment when she slipped out of her robe as the shoot began. She had that effect on most of the men who saw her either topless or fully naked, so she was used to it.

“Where in the hell did he find this?” she wondered out loud, tapping her fingers on the desktop as she looked at the picture.

“It’s the internet, Mom, you can find anything you want out there,” Hugh said from behind her, scaring the crap out of her and making her jump at the sound of his voice.

“OH! You startled me!” she said, turning to look at him, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. Hugh was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb with his legs crossed at the ankles, one hand stuck in the pocket of his jeans, a can of soda in the other. She had been so engrossed that she hadn’t heard him coming down the hallway on his way to his room.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, standing up straight and looking down at her.

“Oh, no, honey, it’s okay, really,” she said, obviously flustered. “It’s just that I…well, I saw this….” she said, turning and motioning to the laptop before turning back around, “and I, uh…” she stammered not knowing what to say. She finally gave up and just said what she needed to say.

“I’m sorry, Hugh, I invaded your privacy and I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, looking up at him with her hands in her lap, a sad and worried look on her face. “I came in here to pick up your dirty clothes to wash them, and when I saw your laptop open I was…well, I was both curious and afraid of what you’d been seeing on the internet, so I pressed the spacebar to turn off the screen saver and was surprised when I saw that the wallpaper was an old nude picture of me,” she said.

“What were you afraid that I might be looking at, Mom?” he asked.

“That’s just it, honey, I don’t know,” she said, a worried look coming over her face. “All I could think of was what happened to the Bates family, and that’s the last thing I’d want to have happen to us – and to you!” she said.

Hugh understood immediately. The Bates had lived in their neighborhood, about four streets over, and while Hugh knew some of them he never developed a close friendship with any of them. Alvin, 16 years old and the youngest of the Bates’ four children, had gotten involved in a satanic cult site on the internet, and ended up becoming a cultist himself. All efforts by his parents to deprogram him failed, and he ended up killing his entire family with a shotgun one dark night. He was now in the state prison awaiting the death penalty; because of the heinous aspect of his crimes he had been tried as an adult, and the jury set a new record in how fast they returned with a verdict of guilty on all charges. The next day they sentenced him to death by unanimous vote, that vote only taking ten minutes since they only had to vote once to get a unanimous verdict. So yeah, Hugh understood why his mom was concerned.

“It’s okay, Mom, really,” he said, smiling down at her. “I understand. The only thing I look at on the internet that could be considered ‘bad’ is porn, and that’s all. And to be honest, it’s really my fault because I shouldn’t have left my laptop on with the lid up to begin with,” he said, walking into his room and sitting down on his bed, taking a drink from his soda.

“Oh, thank you for not being upset or mad at me, honey!” Carol said, heaving a sigh of relief as a smile crossed her face.

“Thank you for caring enough to be concerned,” he replied, returning her smile. “Trust me when I tell you that I’m into women with big boobs, not satanic cults!” he said, trying to lighten things up.

“So I see,” she said, looking over at the laptop for a moment before looking back at him. “Where did you stumble across that old shoot, anyway?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, I’m a big fan of retro pinup models and the old men’s magazines from the fifties and sixties, and my favorite old-school model is Cynthia Myers. She was the “Playmate of the Month” for December 1968, and when I looked her up on a site specializing in models with big breasts there was a section that had names of models listed with similar body types. I clicked on a couple of the names just for the hell of it, and when I clicked on “Stella Love” it took me to some pictures from an old men’s magazine called “Stag Party,” and that picture was one of them,” he said, nodding towards the laptop.

“Yeah, ‘Stella Love’ was the name I used when I was modeling. I thought it was cute at the time,” she said, a little embarrassed. “I bet your jaw dropped when you recognized your own mother lying there naked, huh?” she asked, smiling.

“You got that right! I recognized you right away. You look enough like Cynthia Myers to be her twin sister. You were a stone-cold fox, Mom!” he said, meaning it.

‘And you still are! You’re just as hot now as you were then!’ he thought to himself.

“Thank you, sweetheart, I appreciate that,” she said, smiling at him. “So I guess you’re curious as to how all that came about, huh?” she asked, starting to relax.

“Well, yeah, to be honest, I am,” he replied, returning her smile. She then told him the story of how she came to be a nude model, not at all ashamed of what she had done – just surprised that he had stumbled across it, and a little embarrassed that he had seen her naked.