Michael

Turning the page, she could now see the muscular arms of what she assumed to be the same man, judging their bulk and power. The bicep muscle appeared huge, probably as large as her thigh. And once more had been recently worked hard. On these pieces, again viewed from differing angles, Michael had rendered the sweat and opened pours. The detail, Leigh knew, must have taken him some time.

The next page revealed more male legs. These ones were not as well built, but were still muscular and well-toned. The model was languishing, and the legs were stretched out, relaxed and crossed. The drawing faded out at the hip area on all of these pictures. Leigh was surprised at herself, for being disappointed that Michael had not drawn the man’s genitals and ‘tutted’ at herself. The legs looked like a young person’s, full of youthful vigour and power.

She turned the page once more and was now confronted by female legs and arms. Again the detail was incredible. On the arm drawings, Michael had added the woman’s breasts, but only as a line, hinting at his awareness that they were there, but not wanting them to detract him from his focus. The woman’s legs looked long, lithe and very sexy, He had drawn on one piece, as much of her bottom as he could, without revealing her privates. A very sexy piece, Leigh admitted to herself.

Turning the page, she could see that Michael had tackled hands, many hands of both sexes. Dispensing with the rumour that hands were difficult, because each of these drawings was done with impeccable detail and accuracy. She could see that even in these few short pages, his abilities as an artist had grown exponentially. It made her feel very proud. Even if the next picture made her groan despite her disappointment in not seeing it on the other drawings.

Before her was the pubic area of a man. This time it was the legs that were faded out. And within the lap of the man, was the sleeping form of his penis, and quite a large one at that, Leigh thought. The drawing was in almost one-to-one scale, and included a large area of the model’s wash-board stomach. The tops of the thighs were present, in so much as they had to be, because the body of the penis was resting upon one of them. She recognised that the legs were the same as those from the earlier drawing, so this was obviously the same model. Where Michael had included some moles, these tied into both drawings too. The large scrotum and the pubic area of the model, were completely devoid of hair. The shaved look a modern day preference obviously, that she had to admit, really appealed to her too.

Leigh looked more closely at the drawing. The detail on the penis was outstanding. The large glans on the head were easily discernible beneath the thin foreskin. The lines and wrinkles of the flesh, rendered in such refinement, that Leigh could almost feel the velvet softness of the skin as she ran her forefinger over the penis and onto the taut stomach.

She realised that she had been holding her breath and released it with a “Wow.” Even though it was just a drawing of a flaccid penis, she suddenly felt her stomach tensing, and the tingle of arousal begin in her loins, that caused her to squeeze together her thighs. “Oh Leigh,” she chastised herself, “it would seem it has been way to long if a drawing of a penis is having this effect.”

She turned the page, noticing that her fingers were trembling a little. Before her were several renditions of the woman picking the plums. Michael was trying to get the composition right, obviously. The thumb-nail sketches we all briefly done, but good none-the-less. The next page, showed the final piece, with one exception. In this picture, the female model was completely naked. Her eyes certainly portrayed the same look at the artist. Her breasts were beautifully full, and were topped with large erections, her long legs and very hard, tight bottom drew the eyes in. She too, had no pubic hair, but Michael had drawn her in such a way that you could see none of the detail of her genitals, subtly hidden by the model’s pose. She was an extremely attractive woman, and Leigh felt the pang of jealousy returning, that this young woman might have designs upon her son.

She didn’t know what to expect from the next page, but was prepared for a detailed study of the young woman’s vulva, or her breasts and nipples or both. What she was not expecting was a picture of another woman, a woman in a particular pose, a pose that Leigh recognised instantly, because that woman was her. “What the……!”

In the drawing, as in the original photograph that her husband had taken of her, she was side on, with her closest leg, to the photographer, on the bed. Her other leg was stretched out straight, the toe of her extremely high-heeled shoe, was on the floor. Her long hair, was away from her face and fell behind her. She looked expectant, hungry and voracious for sex. In this depiction of her, Michael had drawn the same suspender belt she had found in his box, and the black stockings she was wearing, were the ones she now had on the bed. She had not worn those for the pose, neither, if memory served her right, was she wearing a bra or panties. Michael had at least had the decency to cover her in a matching set of lacey attire, which she knew she had in her underwear draw, so accurate his drawing, that she could tell exactly the bra and panties set he was depicting.

The shock of seeing herself on the page of his art pad, dulled her mind for a little bit. Until she fully processed the fact that in searching through her draws he must have. “Ohhh no.” Leigh’s cry was one of anguish. Putting the pad down, she went to her room and looked into her lingerie draw. Near the top, she found the very same set of bra and panties, that he had drawn her in. As she delved to the back of the draw, she came across the thin, round, pliable hardness of her toy. She had not used it for some time, but was sure that she had not left it there? She searched for, but could not find, what she was really after. Her erotic picture collection. Pictures that her various lovers, including her husband, had taken of her, in varied sexy and explicit positions. In going through her draw, Michael had obviously found them. And he now had them in his possession. “Shit! She shouted to her room. “You should have destroyed them you idiot.” She rushed back to his room and started a thorough search, but was unable to find the picture wallet that the very personal photos were in.

In trepidation, she sat upon his bed again, all evidence of her arousal having gone, as the shame permeated through her. There was no doubt in her mind, that her son had now seen her completely naked and worse; superbly represented in all of her raunchy, wanton lustiness. As raw and explicit as any porn-star. Her face began to burn in embarrassment. She could not remember the full detail of the photo that he had drawn from, but did remember when her husband first showed it to her, that she thought it represented how aroused she felt at the time. The drawing that Michael had done, however, even though she was now clothed rather than naked, made her look less raw, and gave the image a sense of refinement, though she still had all of the willful lusts of a prostitute; the lingerie probably adding to that concept. It took but a few minutes of her studying his drawing in greater detail, to realise that she wasn’t staying ashamed for very long. As she viewed all of the intricate detail of herself, and of the way that Michael had wanted to depict her, she found the tingle in her loins was back once again, and that her insides and other areas, were beginning to show signs of renewed arousal.

Her hands were shaking all the more by the time her eyes had completely devoured the contents of this page and she was ready to move onto the next. It was of her again, and was of her rear-end view, as she stood, looking back at the photographer. She knew again, that she was fully naked in the picture. She knew too that she had already had sex before the picture was taken, and… she covered her eyes with her hands, as she remembered that her labia lips were very prominent in the photo, and her vagina was gaping open, having so recently been vacated by a stiff, thick cock. Again, she was thankful that Michael had drawn her wearing the same panties, this time, he had made them look wet and he had left off her bra. Her firm breasts were hanging heavily beneath her, the nipples in a full state of arousal. She felt sick, knowing that her son had seen her, post sex. Fully aroused, fully wet and… “OH GOD!” Leigh suddenly remembered she was dribbling. Her vagina, drooling in her arousal at having so recently had an orgasm. She suddenly felt violated, at having been so exposed. She felt vulnerable, she felt like a whore, but worse, she felt a dread, deep down within her, for she knew that her son, had pictures in his possession, that were even more explicit in content than this one.

Leigh knew that as these drawings were so detailed, they would have taken him many hours to perfect and complete. That was many hours, of him staring at her body, gleaning as much detail as he could to produce these flawless pictures. She closed her eyes. So shocked was she, that she was not sure what she should do. It was one thing, thinking that her son was a transvestite. Completely another that he was drawing these sexual images of her, his own mother! Albeit that she had made that easy enough for him, in giving in and agreeing to having these photographs taken in the first place, and then keeping them; in possibly one of the worst of hiding places.

And about that? She thought on. Why had she not destroyed them? Why were they not properly hidden? It was not like she needed them close, to view herself.