Among the erotic contents were packs of expensive nylons, black lace suspender belts and a shoe box containing two pairs of gorgeous ‘fuck-me’ stiletto heels.
At the bottom of one draw I found a sealed plastic bag containing a used condom, still with semen in it. I assumed it was a tangible and tactile reminder of the last time she and Dad had sex. It smelled musty and was cold to the touch.
These shameful forays into her most intimate places were also my only real-world connection to the lingerie worn by the sexy women in my men’s magazines.
Her bedroom was a dreamland that I longed to return to whenever I was alone in the house.
At first I was content getting erections from her stuff.
However it didn’t take long for me to begin jacking off into a handkerchief while sniffing and caressing her underwear. I got particularly aroused sniffing the soiled nickers and stockings she had in her laundry basket.
My growing sexual desire for her lingerie didn’t go away when I closed her bedroom door.
Lingerie consumed my thoughts throughout the day and became even more vivid when alone in bed.
At night I always dreamed of Mum dressing for me in her black silk lingerie. These images were so vivid that it felt that I could actually reach out and run my hands up her seamed stockings.
These nightly erotic images became so intense I could ejaculate without even having to touch my penis! Wet dreams.
Once, not long after Dad had left, a group of her girlfriends persuaded her to go out with them for the evening. As if in an act of defiance against her situation, Mum made a special effort to look her best. When she came downstairs I was wowed with her appearance.
She had chosen a simple black dress that hugged her in all the right places, and was short enough to hint at stocking tops and suspenders.
Her hair was styled into a casual up-do with a few loose strands hanging over her ears. I don’t think I’d ever taken notice of her long neck before, and I felt a thrill of sexual pleasure just by looking at her.
Also, and a first time for me, she wore those high heels I’d first seen in the shoebox.
She also had on a pair of white button earrings that somehow made her look years younger.
I told her truthfully that she looked stunning and smelled good enough to eat, then asked if I could take a photo of her.
She agreed and I spent a couple of minutes shooting her from several angles on my college DSLR camera.
Mum went along with my photo shoot, making sexy poses for fun, like models do in TV programs. I immediately regretted not anticipating this photo opportunity and preparing backdrops and lights.
But what the hell, if I wanted to be a professional photographer I had to deal with whatever came along.
Then her friends arrived at the front door. But before she left Mum gave me another of her wonderful affectionate hugs. It allowed me to get close enough to inhale her dreamy Chanel No 5 perfume and smell her face powder.
But more importantly, she pressed her breasts tight against me. A seemingly innocent hug to her, but to my sex-obsessed mind, it felt like foreplay. A clear signal that she wanted me!