Sketches of a Stepmom

"You look great."

Ellen flushed. This was the nicest thing Derek had said to her for some time now. She struggled with what she was feeling -- was it acceptance or something else? She felt like she was melting into the couch.

"Can we talk while you sketch, Derek?"

"Sure. What did you want to talk about?"

"Anything. We just don't talk much anymore."

Derek kept glancing at different parts of her body and transposing them to his canvass.

"Ellen, I'm just going through some stuff right now, stuff I don't really want to talk about."

"Why don't we start with what you're sketching?"

"I don't think you really want to know. Part of it has to do with sexuality, and you and I have never really tested those waters. You won't understand it."

Ellen was tired of being treated like the small-minded little stepmom. She could feel the heat of hurtful frustration rise to her face.

"You know, Derek, you and your other mother are so judgmental. How do you know what I'm capable of thinking?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think you'd be surprised at how much I understand and can relate to you. I know you think I'm a prude, but maybe you've never asked yourself whether I, as an adult and not as your stepmom, am capable of being open minded. I'm lying here right now, half naked and posing for my stepson for crying out loud."

"That's what I mean, Ellen. It's only half way with you. I don't want to have any more half way conversations with you."

"Fine then. Let's not do half way anymore, let's go all the way." Ellen sat up, reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra. She stood up and let if fall from her breasts while she hooked her fingers into her shorts and underwear and slid them off her waist. She picked up her clothing and tossed them at Derek before sitting on the couch again. Her bra landed at his feet, but her underwear hung over his face. Derek took them from his head and dangled them in front of him. He was amused, but still didn't seem satisfied. He looked at his naked stepmother challengingly.

"Okay, but that's still not all the way." He reached into his bag and took out some rope. "I need my model to be tied at the wrists and ankles. Can you handle that?"

Ellen smiled casually. "Handle it? I fantasize about it every day." The huskiness in her voice overwhelmed her smugness, and as Derek walked over to her she sat up and held her wrists upward. "I guess I know what you're sketching now."

Derek looked down at her as he secured her wrists. "It's not what I'm sketching, it's what I'm trying to capture through my art."

"And you're trying to capture more than just a woman being bound?" Ellen rested her palms on Derek's bare chest while he worked the rope around her wrists. Her heart began to race as he finished tying her arms and kneeled between her legs and began on her ankles. He had a perfect view of her nakedness, and the fact that she could no longer prevent herself from being exposed made her extremely horny. The same feelings that stirred her in her fantasies were beginning to take a hold of her.

"It's more than simple bondage, Ellen." When Derek finished tying her ankles together, he rose in front of her and pushed her roughly from the side so she lay back in her initial fetal position.

Ellen gasped loudly, both shocked and aroused at Derek's sudden forcefulness.

"That's what I'm trying to capture. Reaction."

"Well, I could give you reaction, Derek. I can play the part. Do you want me to?" Ellen's voice was deep and throaty, and she looked up and stared Derek in the eyes. He looked different all of a sudden. His whole demeanor changed. It was as if he just realized his timid, reserved stepmom had other layers to her, layers which interested him, depths which he had been searching for.

"Admit it, Derek, there's more to me than what you thought."

Derek took his brush from his pocket and ran it from her elbow to her shoulder. He bent down so they were face to face and swept it across her chin. She spoke quietly into his probing face. Her heart was racing.

"Admit it, Derek. You didn't think I could play the part, did you?"

Without answering her he turned the brush around and ran the wooden tip of the end along her jaw line, then her cheek. He circled her mouth with it and when he began to trace her lips, Ellen opened her mouth and drew the shaft inside with her tongue. She looked at him while she sucked it and her eyes flittered slightly.

Ellen watched herself from afar as she lay on the couch, tied with rope, sucking on her stepson's tool seductively. She told herself she was playing the part. He wanted reaction, and she was giving it to him.

Derek prodded her for more. He slipped the brush from between her lips and pulled the rope from her ankles, lifting her legs so her thighs rested against his chest and her bound ankles dangled over his shoulder.

"Oh!"

Derek grabbed her buttock in his palm and spread her aside with one hand. Ellen urgently tried to cover her exposure but was helplessly tied at the wrists. She kicked her legs and squirmed, but this just caused her to shift more against Derek and rub her pussy against the bulge in his jeans. She was so wet it was shameful.

Derek slid the brush from the back of her knee down her thigh and towards her centre. He watched her face while he slid the length of the brush inside her wet slit and twisted and turned it over her clit. Ellen bit down on her bottom lip and turned her head to hide her reaction. Her body twisted and jerked as he played with her, and when he pressed the end of the brush into her she moaned.

"Mmmmm, Derek...uh....uh.....uh....." She emitted short breaths in response to Derek slowly penetrating her with the brush. He pushed it inside her until his thumb rested against the nub of her hardened clit. He rubbed the surface in circular motions as he moved the brush inside her, and Ellen began moving with him.

Ellen watched as he raised the paint brush and held it against his lips, breathing in her essence before tasting her from the smooth wooden grip. He grabbed her by the side of her head and brought her face next to his. Next she opened her mouth and accepted his lips onto hers. She could taste her come in his mouth and she sucked her sweet juices off his tongue.

Derek let her legs roll gently off his shoulders so she was resting on her side again. At some point he had managed to take his jeans off, and now Ellen looked at him in shock as he climbed onto the couch and kneeled at her feet. His large member was erect and pointing at her hungrily.

"Derek, this isn't-"

Derek rolled her onto her stomach, yanked her hips into the air and spread her cheeks open to his cock.

"Oh! God, Derek-"

He pressed the side of her face into the couch and plunged into her wetness. Ellen could feel the tip of the brush circle her anus while Derek pressed into her repeatedly. The sounds of their bodies suctioning together created a rhythmic music along with Ellen's uncontrollable gasps of filthy pleasure. Her muscles twitched and tightened as he churned his shaft inside her tight hole.

The whole time they were moving together, Ellen could feel Derek's eyes on her. He was watching her reactions, studying them, committing them to memory. He shifted their bodies on the couch so they were spooning, and turned her face to his and watched shallow breaths release themselves from her open mouth in rhythm to the cadence of his thrusting. Her bound wrists took hold of his hand and brought it to her mouth. She pressed it against her face and found his thumb. She sucked on it eagerly while Derek continued pumping her for reactions. Her body tightened around his shaft as her climax built within her.

"Mmmmmm...." Ellen moaned with Derek's thumb in her mouth. The rope around her wrists and ankle kept her secure in the curvature of his body as he moved inside her. His warmth generated a perspiration which lubricated the movement of her buttocks inside the crook of his pelvis.

"Mmmmm..."

"Ellen. I'm done."

"Hmmmm?"

"Ellen, wake up. I'm done."

Ellen's eyes shot open. She was lying on her side on the couch, still in a fetal position and sucking on her own fingers. Derek sat across from her on a chair with his sketch pad in hand. She quickly checked her wrists and found that there was no rope tying them together. She sat up and confirmed her ankles were free as well. She still wore her bra and shorts. Elements of her dream were merging with reality. She could taste herself off her fingers and wondered at what point it was that she actually touched herself.

"The heat must have knocked me out," she said nervously."

Derek looked at her, amused.

"How'd your sketch turn out?"

"Good. Thanks for helping."

"Can I see what you sketched?" Ellen looked at Derek searchingly, trying to figure out what just went on, and how much he witnessed.

"Not now. Maybe later. Thanks."

Thanks? That was it? Ellen was disappointed but couldn't help but feel relieved when Derek collected his things and disappeared into the basement. She had an overwhelming sense of defeat as she slowly got up from the couch and went upstairs to put on the rest of her clothing. She was sad to see the continuation of Derek's brooding coldness. She didn't make the advances she thought she would, but she also revealed something through a dream she wished she never had.

JOURNAL ENTRY

It all started with a picture. A photo. An image of me, conjured by my mind and discovered by my stepson. Bound and gagged. Dominated and seduced. We are indeed connected through our darkness.

His is a desire to own his women, seduce them with control. Mine is a yearning to submit, to be taken and manipulated for pleasure. Collectively our lusts sear together in an illicit bond.

He is my stepson, and this is wrong. Everything inside me tells me these feelings are absolutely forbidden. But my I can't seem to forget how I became his art today as he manipulated my body for his own purpose. I don't know how much he was made aware of, but something happened in front of him while I posed. I could taste the evidence of my own filthy mind on my finger tips.

I'm terrified at what has surfaced within me today. It's always been there, but today it rose from beneath my control; it was spurred by the desires of my stepson and took over my mind and body. I pray I can curb it once again, before it's discovered. I'm not willing to destroy my relationship with the husband I love so much for the sake of his son. Yet I'm drawn by Derek's yearnings.

Heaven help me.

Ellen

###