PUBLIC MOTHER CUM FACIAL

My new client has a sex addiction. The public will never expect this because she's a famous actress with a wholesome reputation. Her name is Eliana and she's a beautiful Greek woman. I'm a big fan, but I don't tell her that.

We're in my downtown Colorado office and she's staying in the city for two months filming a low-budget drama. She reached out to me because I'm one of the best therapists in the country regarding sexual trauma.

She speaks about recent issues while I admire her wavy black hair and olive skin. Her prominent nose and cheekbones. She's mesmerizing. Athletic. Gorgeous. I take notes whenever she says anything important. This is our third session together.

There are twists and turns to what Eliana is saying. It's clear that she wants to be understood. Pain? Regret? Grief? She tells me about her sex life and regular orgasms but I sense it's the tip of the iceberg.

"There's no greater apex for a woman, than being a servant to her son."

Eliana lets the mood linger after saying those words. She gauges my reaction because that statement would shock the average person's conscience. I remain composed, though I've never heard this in my office before.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask.

She's spoken about her son before; a 26 year old fireman who lives near her Malibu home. I'm aware of the statistics regarding mother/son incest and I brace myself to hear something provocative.

"I have a sexual relationship with him," Eliana says, biting her lower lip. "It started after he moved to college. It's a long story, but I want to tell someone. It's a huge burden I've been carrying for years."

There's relief on her face because I'm not disgusted. Relief that I'm willing to understand and listen. In the end, people just want to feel normal.

"Was there anything that caused it to happen?" I ask. "Or was it the result of your sex addiction?"

"It was a slow simmer. Once I saw him as a man -- when he became strong and was able to care for himself -- I developed sexual feelings. My sex addiction? Yeah, I think so. I know this isn't normal."

We have 40 minutes left and it's my first time listening to an active incest relationship. Eliana tells me about their twice-a-week sex sessions at her Malibu home. She discusses having her son inside her and 'the flooding' of her womb.

She attends swinger groups with other celebrities, but her son is the favorite. I sense that from the tone of her voice and the details of her body language.

"Does this bother you?" Eliana asks me.

"No, my job is to..."

She cuts me off. "Sorry, let me clarify. I meant personally. I see pictures of your son on the desk. How does this make you feel as a mother?"

On my desk there's a picture of Billy -- my 19 year old son that lives with me.

"My feelings are irrelevant," I say. "I'm trying to understand you."

"Be honest. Please. I want to hear this. Do you think I'm gross? Do I belong in prison for fucking my son in every room of my house?"

"Both of you are consenting adults."

Eliana pleads, "Be honest. I want to hear it."

Her insecurity is on full display. What must the world think if they knew? The beloved Eliana, television and film star, screwing her firefighter son. She'd be 'canceled' for sure. Fired from all of her jobs. She'd never appear on a major network or film studio again if this were public.

As a prominent liberal activist, it's a foregone conclusion that she'll have to close her Twitter and Instagram pages because of the inevitable trolling. The jokes and nasty comments that she's an abuser would be endless. Particularly because she's a prominent #MeToo supporter.

In my office she's safe. These four walls are her sanctuary.

"My opinion is that you're seeking comfort," I say. "The nearest source of comfort is your son. I get it. We'll have to work on this."

It's one of the few times I've ever lied to a client. The truth is, I think it's gross and perverse. In no way do I think it's healthy, which is why I plan on helping her as much as possible.

But at the same time, I'm intrigued. Human sexuality is full of interesting pleasures.

"You can be a little more honest with me," she says in a small voice, a far cry from her strong on-screen personas.

I look at her. This experience must be nerve-wracking for her. I know it must be difficult to admit such embarrassing things. I tell her my feelings on the matter, that she's a normal woman with issues that can be solved. I promise to do my best with our future appointments.

The session is almost over. We both look at the clock. I have another client later and Eliana has to get to the movie set. We stand up and she smiles. I smile back.

"Thanks for your time," she says. "This was... intense."

"It's part of the healing process. Intense feelings are a good sign."

There's a warmth in her eyes. She trusts me, but this feels like a different level of trust compared to my other clients. I now possess a secret that would create a global scandal and rock the entertainment industry.

When the actress leaves, I have limited time before my next appointment and I decide to do research on this topic.

Keywords include: mom, mother, son, sex, statistics, stories.

I use a combination for each search, and sure enough, most of the results are pornographic with a few news articles in between. None of this surprises me because I'm aware of how massive this fetish is. I bookmark several links.

Most incest trauma that's studied is father/daughter. Looking at a few statistics, mother/son incest exists but it's rarely reported.

Perhaps I'll do a comprehensive study on this topic for a peer-reviewed publication. I've won several awards and there are plaques that decorate my wall. I know this topic will be the most taboo thing I've ever researched, but I like the risk and reward that comes with it.

On my laptop screen is the picture of a 'hot mom' porn star with a younger man, who poses as her son. They're having sex on the living room couch with the 'mom' riding on top. There's a caption on the picture saying a mother is giving education.

Then I think of my own son. In many ways, Billy has always been an informal assistant of mine. Whenever I write something for a peer-reviewed journal, I dive deep, and my son helps organize mountains of information and notes. In exchange, I give him money. A fair trade and he gets job experience.

Would I be okay with him being on this journey? Maybe.

***

Towards the evening, I leave my office and walk the downtown street. There's light snow, which is pretty. I clear my mind of the patients I've seen, except for Eliana and her secret incest situation.

Speaking of which, I'm meeting family and friends at a restaurant a few blocks away, where they are celebrating a personal matter. My son is there talking with cousins. They're close and that makes me happy. Family time is supposed to be wholesome and pure.

Food is served and I'm sitting with adults my age, while my eyes drift towards my son at the other table. I try putting myself in Eliana's shoes, no matter how taboo. As a therapist, this is key to understanding each patient. To understand their goals, needs, trauma, insecurities, and desires.

Every so often I speak to my sister or anyone else at the table. The current topic of the evening is politics and inflation. I'm thankful that a guy sitting next to me works in finances, because he does most of the talking, while I find myself thinking of my son's cock.

What must it be like for a mother to touch, feel, and taste? How twisted. How out of character for me. But no one will ever know these thoughts.

The meal is finished and everyone goes outside and the conversations are still flowing. Eventually we hug and kiss and everyone goes their separate ways.

My apartment is a few blocks away (isn't living in the downtown area great?). I walk alongside my son as the light snow continues to fall.

"Do you love me?" I ask.

He laughs. "How much wine did you drink?"

"It's a legitimate question. Do you?"

"Yeah, of course, I love you. Why are you asking?"

Billy seems perplexed, yet amused. I don't blame him. It's such a random question while we walk together.

"I love you, too," I say. "This is for work. I'm thinking of writing something."

"Anything interesting?"

"Oh yes, very interesting. It's in the early stages though."

"Honestly, you acted weird all night," he says.

"Did I?"

"Yeah, it was like you were daydreaming. I noticed it a few times when I looked over at your table."

"There's a lot on my mind," I reply.

"Let me guess, a client inspired you."

I laugh. "You know me too well."

We enter the apartment building. Before we get into the elevator, I decide that I'm going to commit to this research. There's a final roadblock, which is my son's approval and reaction. The feeling is nagging in my mind.

I enter the elevator behind my son and I tell him to push the button.

While he's doing that, I push my coat aside and lift the front of my blouse. My fingers pull the white bra to reveal a medium-sized breast. I hope he enjoys the sight of a large pink nipple. It's just for him today.

"Billy, turn around."

When he turns around, Billy sees my erect pink nipple. It's his first (and only) time seeing it as an adult. I hold my clothes so he can keep looking. As expected, he's flabbergasted, but he doesn't stop me. He's stunned. His jaw is hanging.

"What are you doing?" he asks, eyes on my nipple.

"Nothing," I reply, hiding my shame and excitement.

I pull my clothes down, leaving my outfit creased and messy, since we're almost at our apartment. He's shocked as hell, but I just look forward. I don't bother to give him an explanation and he doesn't ask.

He knows I can be obsessive.

***

We do our normal things inside the apartment, though I'm sure Billy is still bewildered. A part of me wonders if he's going to jerk off at some point. I hope he doesn't. I try not to think about that.

Either way, I got what I wanted from that elevator experiment. I do my normal things for the night. That includes skincare, Netflix, emails, texts, and of course my work.

I try to figure out what I can do for Eliana, but the answer eludes me. I wonder if her being a celebrity makes this harder for me. I'm still somewhat starstruck.

My computer is again loaded with mom/son porn. This will be part of my life for the foreseeable future. Some of the images intrigue me. It's the amateur photos and videos that strike a chord; older woman with a younger man, performing sexual acts at home. Obviously they're not related, but it's labeled that way for more views.

Before using the bathroom to brush my teeth and do a final skincare routine, I masturbate. Something quick and heavy in front of the computer. I watch homemade porn of a 'mother and son' engaging in sexual practices. I cum into a tissue watching incest material for the first time in my life.

My day ends while laying in bed watching Marco Pierre White cooking instructionals on youtube with earphones. I'm undecided on what kind of music I want to listen to before I sleep. I'm thinking Leonard Cohen, live recordings on Spotify.

There's an email notification on my phone from Eliana. I hadn't expected to hear from her so soon and I become alert. There are 7 images attached to her email and I open them. What I see is a revelation.

There are pictures taken from a phone camera. Images of sex, from the front and behind. I see a young man's cock going into the body of an olive-skinned woman. I see long dark hair that's wavy. By all indications, this appears to be Eliana, but I'm not sure. I also wonder if this is her son. There are no faces on these images. They could be anyone.

Another email comes. I wonder if it'll answer my question and reveal their faces. I see images of the olive-skinned woman riding on the same cock. I see full-frontal breasts with dark nipples and dark hair that roams around the chest.

The pics appear to be taken in a bungalow near the beach. Could she have gone with her son on vacation for a romantic sex getaway? The thought makes me aroused and gives me the need to masturbate again.

Instead of emailing her, I decide to text because they usually get a faster response. I think carefully about what to type. It's my first time getting pornographic images from a client, much less an actress who claims to be fucking her son.

Text: Is that really you? Looks like it could be anyone

I regret sending that. It's out of character for me because I pride myself on being composed with each communication with a client.

While waiting, I look at the pictures again. The more I look, the more I'm convinced it's her in these images.

She texts me back: Is this real enough for you?

I wait a few seconds, then she texts me a picture of herself standing next to her son. They're at the airport in a tropical location. Her son has a white complexion, matching the skin color in the sex pictures.

The next picture shows Eliana with her son at a ski resort. They're in the lobby wearing thick jackets, smiling next to each other. They look happy and I wonder if sex is on their mind. Something no one would ever suspect of them.

My heart nearly skips a beat at the next image; Eliana is dressed in a different outfit, perhaps later that day, and she's on her knees. I assume they're in the hotel room because there's a hard cock in front of her face. Her son is stroking it. Eliana's hair is pulled back, chin lifted, and her eyes are closed.

She texts me: Last one with my face

A final image is texted to me. Eliana is wearing the same clothes as the picture on her knees. Only this time, she's standing on a ski slope, smiling at the camera. She's ready to ski down a hill as she poses.

I zoom on her face. There's cum on her cheeks and chin. Maybe her nose, but she's wearing ski goggles so it's hard to tell. Eliana got a cum facial from her son and went outside wearing that cum. Looking at the background, there are plenty of other people there.

What a wonderful thought (for lack of a better term). I imagine the famous actress walking through the small crowd at the lobby and on the ski slopes. The goggles keep her celebrity status a secret. The whiteness of the snow makes the cum facial difficult to notice. The cum on her face blends with the white atmosphere.

I text back: Thank you. These will remain confidential, of course

My response is formal but I'm awestruck at the situation. I know my career and personal life will change because of this. Real incest. Right in the palm of my hand, as I look at the cum facial picture on my phone.

Given the time, I put my phone away. Tomorrow is busy and my mind is too frenzied to masturbate. Instead I lay on the pillow and think about Eliana with her son. The cum facial. Then I think about my own son. Billy. Would he ever do that to me? Would my son cross that line?

It's the last thing I think about before I go to sleep.

Perspective: The Client

My therapist is more than a normal therapist. We've become quite close in the four weeks that we've known each other. I tell her everything. She tells me everything in return. For me, it's therapeutic. For her, it's curiosity and business.

Dr. Patterson has flashed her son around the house and I'm the only person in the world who knows about it (well, aside from her son, of course). The point is, we know things about each other that will always remain confidential. I love that. I love having a partner in crime. Someone who shares the same addictive and unholy desire for a son.

On a Saturday morning, when I have a break from filming, we meet at the local cafe. We're having mocha drinks and pastries for breakfast, then we're going to her office afterward. There's still much to discuss for my therapy and her research.

I dress in cheap clothes so no one recognizes me. I look much different than what you'd normally see on film or tabloids. We speak about our personal lives and normal things, so no one hears a dirty conversation about blowjobs and cum facials, which I know Dr. Patterson is thinking right now.

Mentally I undress her as we finish our food. I wonder what she looks like naked. I think about what her son sees. Those nipples. I bet they're pink nipples since she's a white woman. Whatever they are, her son Billy must be obsessed by now, jerking off feverishly to mom's prized possessions under that bra.

"Can I show you something before we go?" I say.

I take out my phone and access the gallery. Finding the right picture, I hand her the phone. She takes a look. It's a cum facial picture from months ago.

Dr. Patterson is taken aback that I'd show her this in a cafe. The cute reaction on her face is what I hoped to see. She's shocked, but she doesn't put the phone away either. She wants to look at it. Of course she does.

I may have turned her into an incest exhibitionist by accident. It's not my fault that mom/son foreplay is alluring to certain people. It's not my fault that she has a son. Maybe it's fate? Maybe we're meant to become friends and share these unique experiences with each other.

Dr. Patterson writing a major report on mom/son incest could be a great thing. It's why I'm so willing to assist however I can. Because it turns me on. Because it'll help lots of mothers and sons with what they're dealing with.

She closes the screen and hands the phone back.

"Why did you show that to me?" she asks.

"I wanted to see your reaction."

"Why?"

"Because of what you told me about your son last night," I reply.

Dr. Patterson tenses and her face turns rigid. I love these moments where I can get a genuine reaction out of her. I'm convinced that Dr. Patterson's research has taken her to dark places. She's already told me about the awkward sexual flirtations in her home.

She's admitted to wearing less around her apartment. Sometimes she'd go braless. She admitted her son's shy and horny reaction to it. As much as I'd pry for more details, she'd never share. It's her guarded secret, which I respect, but god I'm desperate to know.

"Nice picture," she says with a small smile.

We leave the cafe and walk towards her office and there's light snow. The snowfall is expected to grow in the coming days, which is what the director of my new movie wants. It also reminds me of cum facials because it's the perfect weather for such a thing.

"Tell me more about your son," I say, while walking down the bustling street.

I talk openly and casually, despite being near several other people in the downtown area, because the topic sounds so bland to the average person. Dr. Patterson knows what I'm hinting at.

She thinks for a moment, "Would you rather wait until we're in my office?"

"No. I want you to open your emotions in public."

She looks ahead as she walks. "Two nights ago I was working in my bedroom, typing on my laptop without... you know...."

Dr. Patterson discreetly hand gestures to her upper body, suggesting she worked topless. The mental image makes me fucking aroused.

"Nice," I reply. "How did that go?"

"We built up to that moment. Billy saw little things prior to that. A little of this, a little of that. But yes, he liked what he saw. Let's just say he walked back and forth outside my room. I saw his eyes peeking. The little brat."

I laugh. "What did you expect? You're an attractive mother."

"Therapists are supposed to be mundane and boring."

I lean towards her ear and whisper. "But you have blowjob-sculpted-lips."

The comment makes Dr. Patterson stop in the middle of the sidewalk for a second, before regaining her ability to move. It's like she was just electrocuted. She gulps and tries to walk normal, but I know what's going on in her head."I'll never go that far," she says, then whispers to me, "Topless is fine, breasts are fine, but blowjobs are out of the question."

"You know, I've been here in Colorado for a month. I think about my son everyday. I wonder what he's doing. I know he misses me. We talk on the phone a lot and do the cam stuff."

"It sounds like you have no plans to stop," she says.

"That's a real possibility," I reply. "I might do this forever."

"We'll talk more about that in my office."

"Do you want to know the secret to my long and illustrious career?"

She looks at me with suspicious eyes. "Tell me. What is it?"

"The type of skin treatment I use. My face has never looked better. Something about the potency of the protein cream I use."

I pat my cheeks while looking at her, which makes her laugh.

"You're horrible," she says with a blush.

"But you're obsessed with me."

"Obsessed is a strong word."

"Is it?" I ask.

As we approach the building, I grab Dr. Patterson's wrist and pull her towards the side of the building. She's pinned and my arms trap her. Where she spends most days in the office, I have a personal trainer that charges $300 per session. I'm flexing my muscles, which changes our therapist/patient dynamic.

"Are you going to let me go?" she asks.

"When are you going to suck Billy's dick?" I whisper.

Her eyes widen and I enjoy seeing that. It's fun saying things that shock her.

"I'm not doing that," she says. "People are looking at us. Are you going to move?"

"Let them look. You want to get into my head? Well here's your chance. I want you to suck Billy's dick. I'm sure your son wants it, too."

She gulps, then whispers. "It's one thing to show my breasts. Oral sex is different."

"No, it's the same. Once you cross that line, you're more than just a mother. Billy views you as a sexual being now. The young man wants to do naughty things with you. That's nature. That's how young men are once they see tits."

She gulps deeper. "Is that how it started with your son?"

"Yes. First it was my body, then it was my mouth, then it was my pussy and ass. Then the public cum walks. The natural progression of things."

Having this conversation about mother/son incest on the downtown street feels magical. Oh yes, my therapist is turned on, too. It's the turning point in our relationship. Now she's the one that must probe her feelings and struggle with her sexuality, the way I've been doing for years.

"We'll talk about this in my office," she says with a short breath.

But I want to finish this now and I always get what I want. I've always had that kind of personality. And I always like to push the bounds of the human experience, whether taboo or not.

So I lean forward and kiss Dr. Patterson on the lips as her back is pressed against the building. She's rigid at first, naturally. Her lips are pressed together and she's hesitant about letting my tongue in. I persist. My lips press harder against hers as if we're in a fight.

Finally she relents and my tongue slips into her mouth. She tastes like chocolate and caffeine, as I'm sure my mouth does too. Clearly this is my therapist's first time engaging in such a kiss, much less in public. I like that I'm her first. It gives me a dirty thrill knowing that I'm changing her.

When I pull back, I look into her eyes. Her lips are pursed and wet with my saliva. She's still processing what happened with a look of confusion.

"Let's finish this in your office," I say. "There are some things that... you know... I think would help with your research."

Dr. Patterson nods, trying to act composed when she isn't.

"Yes, my office is a more suitable place for this conversation."

I hold her hand and lead her inside the lobby, guiding her to the elevator as if we're lovers, and when the elevator doors close I kiss her on the mouth again.

We enter the office and she expects formal seating for a deep conversation. Yeah right. I have other ideas. I guide Dr. Patterson to her desk and I bend her over, so that her face and breasts lay flat on the smooth table.

I undress the lower half of her body. As expected, her pussy is wet and I can smell the scent. Bringing my nose against her cunt, I can tell that she's been aroused for a while. This prim and proper therapist has a kinky side that needs to be unleashed, but I already knew that.

My lips press against her labia and she moans.

"Tell me more about your son," I say, planting more kisses. "The sexual details."

She moans. "My nipples are erect whenever I show them to Billy. He loves that."

I gently bite her flesh, near her labia. Enough to make it hurt, but light enough to keep it playful. She knows I want more.

My tongue strokes her skin. I enter her pussy and she gasps. This is a reward system, the more she tells me, the more I give.

She continues, "Billy helps with my research. I've told him a lot, but not everything. Oh... your tongue...."

"What does he think about what you're doing?" I ask, then put my tongue back in her pussy.

"He thinks it's kind of weird," she says with a moan. "It's a crazy topic. He always supports me though. I love him. Now he benefits from my sexual wanderings. He's infatuated with my big nipples. He's seen them a few times. Oh god... He looks at me differently now."

Again with her nipples. I have to see them. At the moment I concentrate on her pussy. One thing at a time. My tongue swirls in her wet hole and she tastes better than the mocha and pastries we had for breakfast.

She continues, "I want to know what it's like. I want to be a slut."

I pull my tongue out and kiss her labia. "Say it. Say what's on your mind. Then I'll make you cum the way you deserve."

"I want to be a slut for my son. I want to know what women who commit incest feel in their hearts. I need to know..."

Her voice is trembling as she speaks those dark words. I know all about the road she's traveling on. I was once in that same position.

Living up to my promise, I tongue-fuck her. My fingers attack her swollen clitoris. She cums in my mouth. Again, the taste of her orgasm is better than the breakfast we had because of what this represents. I'm tasting the sexuality of a well-respected woman who desires her own son.

Her cum runs down my chin and I pull my tongue away. I wipe with my hand. I lick my lips and I lick her labia.

I stand and look at my work. She's still bent over the desk with her ass hanging out. An orgasmic mess. My first instinct is to clean her. It's the friendly thing to do. Instead I take this opportunity to discover something that I'm dying to know.

I lift Dr. Patterson and turn her around. She goes along with it, wondering what my scheme is. She thinks it's funny as she sits bare-assed on her desk, facing me. My fingers unbutton her blouse. She knows I want to see her tits.

When her white bra is exposed, I lift it. Exactly as I expected. Her nipples are coral pink. A white woman's pair of tits. Sexy. I love them. Her nipples are erect, just like they had been for her son. Billy is a lucky young man to have a mother like this.

I bend down and suck on each of her nipples. She moans again. Her hands rub my hair as I enjoy her breasts, knowing Billy will have a turn soon.

***

Men are positioning lights and cameras for the next shot. We're in a rented apartment where I'm sitting down getting touches on my hair and makeup. I just had an argument with the assistant director, but whatever.

I get an email and my phone beeps. When I see it's from Dr. Patterson I feel a nice sensation in the lower half of my body. When I see that her email contains a video attachment, I'm elated.

First I read the message:

So we're clear, this was strictly for research. I needed to get into the mindset of the people I'm writing about. I'll admit, this has been the most surreal period of my professional and personal life. I think that's why I enjoyed it so much. I live for challenges and breaking barriers.

Or maybe -- just maybe -- I've fallen under your spell. You're a highly persuasive woman, you know. You deserve all the awards.

Please delete this video after you watch it, but I suspect that you won't. You'll probably keep it. In which case, please keep it a secret.

I dismiss the hair and makeup people, leaving me to sit alone. The men on set are still adjusting the cameras and using stand-ins to focus the shots, which means I have at least 10 minutes.

Playing the video, I see Dr. Patterson in the bedroom, adjusting the phone camera while she's on her knees. She's dressed in a professional blouse and she tucks her hair behind her ears. There are extra lines around her eyes from tiredness, which suggests that she recently came home from work when recording this video.

A young man's naked mid-section steps into the video frame, a semi-hard cock dangling in front of the therapist's face. I've never seen Billy naked before, but it must be him. God. A son's cock in front of a professional mother's face. What could be better? My heart races watching this.

Dr. Patterson makes final adjustments to the camera's position, undaunted that there's a penis next to her pretty face. She tucks her hair back again to avoid wayward strands going into her mouth.

She looks at her son's penis and gulps. I recognize that kind of gulp. I used to be in those shoes. It's the sight of a mother wondering if she's making the biggest mistake of her life. Or making the best decision she's ever made. A true conflict of the heart. That's what makes life great.

I clench my phone for privacy as I watch Dr. Patterson bend forward and take her son's penis into her mouth. What a fucking sight. A highly regarded therapist with a mouth full. As expected, the semi-erect penis turns stiff as a board the moment those lips close. I wonder what kind of cocksucker Dr. Patterson is. She surprises me with a solid sucking technique.

Her lips are tightly wrapped. I'm certain she can do this underwater and not leak any air. She sucks with such pressure that her cheeks are caved and I can see her cheekbones protrude. Her head moves slowly at first, then speeds up.

Knowing her, she probably looked at blowjob instructionals online before making this video. That's the kind of perfectionist she is. She probably wanted to impress her son -- and probably me also. I could be wrong; maybe Dr. Patterson has been a great cocksucker all along. A closet freak in the bedroom.

The clip is 7 minutes long and I'm short on time, so I forward the video, knowing I'll watch the rest over and over again. I'll masturbate to this later tonight for sure. And I'll always keep this on my phone. For now, I need to know what she does with her son's cum.

Forwarding to the end, Billy strokes his cock towards mom's face. I'm smiling so hard I'm afraid I'll be giddy when I'm called to resume filming. My professionalism is being tested. In the video, cum spurts on Dr. Patterson's elegantly shaped face. She winces hard and it appears to be her first cum facial. She twitches with every shot that lands on her.

When it's done, Dr. Patterson clenches her eyes shut because of the mess on her face. This footage belongs in a museum somewhere.

"Eliana, you're needed now," a petite, young assistant says to me.

"Thank you. I'll be right there."

I put my phone away. Bummer. Then I stand, smooth my clothes, and walk towards the cameras where I resume filming a movie scene. My professionalism is intact. I maintain a straight face while acting.

***

My two month stay in Colorado is almost over. I'm leaving tomorrow, catching a flight home to my Hollywood lifestyle and incestuous ways. As a parting gift between new friends, Dr. Patterson grants me a wish after much persuasion.

Here I stand in her downtown office. It's my first time meeting Billy, who opens his pants and shows me his penis after I ask. A great way to meet someone, right? He's nervous, which means he's a gentleman about this, not a pervert.

Dr. Patterson is nervous also, because it's her first time having an audience. She might even be more formal than usual by the looks of things, with neatly done hair, extra makeup, and an expensive wardrobe that's neatly pressed. She wears nice earrings and I can smell quality perfume from her neck.

Going down on her knees, Dr. Patterson gives her son a blowjob. She's more anxious than in the video clip, because I'm watching, but she learns to relax. I see the saliva glistening on the erection. I can feel their heat. I can hear small noises of sucking and slurping. I can smell Dr. Patterson's vaginal arousal. The scent makes me horny. The sounds are lascivious.

The blowjob lasts for several minutes as I kneel alongside my therapist and watch the action from inches away. She strokes her son's erection and works her lips like a true cocksucking pro. I've seen blowjobs up close before from gangbangs and orgies in the entertainment industry. You'd be surprised by how many celebrities are into it. But it's my first time seeing a mother do this for a son. It makes me feel less alone. It makes me "feel seen" as the young people say.

Billy is about to cum. That's when I stand up. It's my turn to take control of this situation and paint my masterpiece artwork.

I squeeze Billy's dick and stroke. My aim is pretty good and I target Dr. Patterson's face, who closes her eyes and braces herself. Prior to this, I texted Billy and told him to save his cum. It's been two agonizing days for this young man. Pent up with young male libido.

The cum shot is grand, as expected. The first spurt makes a nice mess on my therapist's face. The second spurt is even better. Dr. Patterson's forehead and nose are a cummy mess. The rest goes to her cheeks and chin. Her lips, of course, have plenty of action. There are a few misses and her clothes are stained. There's some on the carpet, too.

Billy turns flaccid and I pat his shoulder with my clean hand. The young man should be proud of what he did to his beautiful mother's face. I reach into my pocket for some cash as a token of gratitude.

"Thank you kindly for the assistance," I tell Billy, handing him $200. "Now go buy something for yourself. I'll need to borrow your mother for a while."

"Thanks," he blushes.

What a nice young man. Dr. Patterson is lucky to have a son like that.

Billy leaves first, then I leave with Dr. Patterson, who locks the door to her office. We're wearing thick coats but it's the therapist who wears cum on her face. She tried several times to wipe it clean, but I wouldn't let her. I remind her what this is about; welcoming her to my world.

It's snowing. We pass by restaurants, small businesses, cafes, and fellow pedestrians on the sidewalk. No one notices because the white streaks blend with the white snow. But I notice. I take glances at her and see the cum that threatens to spill onto her blouse or jacket.

Snowflakes attach to the cum. Her cheeks turn red. She's blushing and embarrassed that she's doing a cum walk for me. For her research. For her son. The heat from her embarrassment is making the cum soft, making it easier to slide off her face.

A small strand lands on her jacket. We keep walking, and the more body heat she has, the more the cum loosens on her skin. The average person doesn't even notice.

"We're part of the same conspiracy now," she jokes, looking straight ahead.

"Mothers against social norms," I call it. "Both in the bedroom, and in society, walking down the street."

She walks faster. "I think a woman glanced at me and cringed."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Like a terrible mother and pervert."

I hold her hand. "You're an awesome mother. I'm sure Billy thinks so after what you did with your mouth. That was real talent."

We stop on the street and kiss. She closes her eyes. My eyes are open, because I like seeing the cum on her face. It's a subtle reminder of how far she's come. She's willing to go the distance and I respect that. I fix her hair, which had blown from the wind. Then I stare at the cum again.

She thinks I'm going to clean it, relieving her of this burden. Instead I spread it across her face -- like applying expensive skin cream -- so that it's less noticeable, but the shine and fragrance of cum is still prominent. I'm like a makeup artist getting someone ready, except I'm using her son's sexual properties.

I leave a few globs around her lips because it looks cute.

Her transformation is complete when I tell her to buy us coffee at an outdoor stand. She waits in the short line and confidently hands money to a young female cashier, ordering two cups. The young cashier recognizes the cum glaze on Dr. Patterson's face, but doesn't say anything brazen to a customer.

I see this as training the next generation.

The End