WHERE HE CAME FROM

 

WHERE HE CAME FROM

My Son had been pestering me with texts all day. I mean, I knew why. He was away at college 

and he was filling out a bunch of paperwork. He was signing up for things left and right, he was 

making his own webpage for a class project, and, of course, because he’d put things off until last 

second, he was doing them all at once in a gigantic rush. 

Here is the problem with that… his Dad and I are swingers, and this weekend was an annual 

fetish event that we’d gone too every year for some time. And since my handsome boy turned 

18, he’d known about this (wouldn’t do to have him find out that Mommy and Daddy were 

swingers by walking into a fetish party and seeing several guys he knew gangbanging his Mother).  

We’d made sure to tell him what we did, what we were into, and what social circles we ran with, 

just so he had fair warning. 

So, after I told him I was trying to pack, try on outfits, try out various make-up schemes, and just 

generally get ready for the big event for the 40th or so time, I was getting a little peeved with my 

oldest son. Until…

Finally, around mid-afternoon, my Son texts me, and asks me for a photo of where he came 

from. Now… I knew, from context, that he wanted a photo of the hospital he was born in. But I 

also knew, because I wasn’t an idiot, that he could have gotten said photo from online; and that is 

exactly what I would have to do, IN HIS PLACE, if he was going to be this lazy about the process. 

So, I decided an “alternate” picture was in order. 

I setup my camera on a tri-pod. I slipped on some black heels, some white garters, some red 

lipstick, a seductive smile, and, to be clear, NOTHING else. Then I laid down in front of the 

camera, triggered the camera with a touch of one heel, spread my legs, and gave the camera, 

and therefore my Son, a sexy little wink. 

A few minutes later, I sent my Son a text. It read, 

“I know you couldn’t have meant the hospital you were born in, since that is something that I 

would have to look up online. And since I can look it up online, that means you could too. And I 

just KNOW you wouldn’t make your Mother stop to do your schoolwork for you, when she is 

trying to get ready for a full weekend of Getting Fucked! So, I can only assume that you were 

flirting, and hoping for a picture, of ‘where you came from’. Well you naughty boy. Here you go. 

Now stop pestering me! :P”

A second later, I sent him the picture of me, his Mother, dressed slutty, spreading her legs, and 

winking at the camera as it stared up at her (my) exposed cunt.

Now… 

In a way, this worked. He apologized, he took the threat seriously, and he limited his texts to only 

what he really, really needed. And when he did bother me again, he did so apologetically. And, 

that would have been the end of it, except for one, teeny tiny detail… 

I was logged into his cloud account. Had been all day. It just made it easier to upload and transfer 

documents, since I already had a lot of them saved to my own cloud account. So, not only did I 

see when he saved the picture I sent him. But I saw it get saved to a very obscure, and deeply 

buried folder (not even exaggerating, it was 12 or more subfolders in). And that folder, had quite a 

few pictures of me, and was labeled, “naughty pics   Mom”. It was me in some swimsuits, me 

eating a popsicle, me drinking a beer with the neck of the bottle deeper in my mouth than it 

needed to be, me in a robe when it had fallen open just a touch too much, and, well, you get the 

idea.

So… what to do with this discovery? I mean, I wasn’t about to chastise him or give him shit for 

having the most common sexual fantasy on Earth. Hell, I’d played “Mommy” for his Dad (and 

others) on more than one occasion and, frankly, I’d loved it.  It was naughty, and taboo, and 

wicked, in all the right ways. But, I wasn’t ‘pretending’ to be his Mom… I WAS his Mom. 

So… what to do? 

Well, I didn’t really have time to deal with it right then, so I just left things as they were, and 

decided to let fate decide. When I got back from my weekend trip (which was glorious, by the 

way), I checked to see if my Son had changed his password, or just trusted me with it. And, lo 

and behold, he hadn’t changed it. He’d given his Mom his password, and, when she was done, 

he’d let her keep it. I thought that was very sweet, and deserved a little reward. 

So… the next time he searched his folder, he found some new entries. 

The first one was just a note that read: 

“Sorry sweetie, but I saw you put that picture here when we were both logged in. I didn’t mean to 

pry! Anyway baby, I saw your little collection here, and since the damage was already done, I 

wanted to know if it was okay if I added some pics to this folder too from time to time? It’s not 

that your little collection isn’t sweet, because it is! But I have access to some pics that you don’t 

yet.

If it’s not okay, you just let me know, and I’ll delete them, and you can change your password. But 

if it is okay, let me know which ones were your favorites (no pressure), and maybe I can put 

some more here in the future!

Love,

Mom XOXO XOXO XXXO”

And after that post, were these ones.

After the last pic, I added, “You can’t really see it here, but I didn’t swallow the rest. It’s just that 

it’s on my tits, and they are not in the pic. ;) “

It was two weeks before my Son replied. In a text, he just sent, “I replied”. Which confused me, 

until I remember the photo set, and checked his cloud account. He had posted a new note to it 

that read:

“I like the ones where you are looking at the camera. I like the one where you have, um, cum, on 

you… and I was wondering if there where any, ‘sex’ pictures. Like, actual sex. If that’s okay!”

Well… I have to say. I love the sex games my husband and I play. And I love the sex games that 

my lovers and I play. And now, it was looking like I was about to Love the sex games that my Son 

and I had started playing… I’m not sure how weird that is. But it sure was fun!