Chapter 3

I had to work the next morning at nine. Dad had just finished his breakfast when I came downstairs. He pushed his plate away and pulled his coffee closer before sticking his nose in the morning paper. Mom was already drinking her coffee and reading the arts section. Dad was dressed for work and Mom was wearing her everyday housecoat. As I made my breakfast, I wondered what she was wearing underneath the robe and whether or not she would honor her promise to show me her tits or if she had just said that to work me up, knowing she was doing it for only one time. I figured that if I rushed, I would have at least half an hour home alone with Mom before Dad got there. Maybe she’d show me then.

I watched Mom as I ate my breakfast. As with dinner so many nights ago, I knew Mom was aware of my observation even though she gave no outward indication that she was. Though there was no suggestive gap in her robe I let my eyes linger on her breasts, then let them travel slowly down her torso to her lap and along her thighs. I followed her bare leg from the point where the robe parted just above her knee down to her bare foot which dangled above the slipper that had fallen to the floor under the table. Mom had nice legs and I hoped I would have a chance to touch them again. I could hardly wait until my shift was over and it hadn’t even started yet. I looked at the clock. Maybe if I started a little early, I could get off sooner.

“I better get going,” I said, gobbling an entire half piece of toast.

“Slow down and eat your breakfast properly, Tyson,” Mom admonished me. “I thought you didn’t start until nine today?”

I was surprised that Mom knew my shifts. “That’s right,” I said.

“Well, then, eat properly.” Mom turned to Dad. “Gary, you should get going dear or you’re going to be late.”

“Oh,” Dad said, looking at the clock. “Yes, I’d better get going.”

He got up, drained his coffee and walked to the hall closet. Mom accompanied him and helped him with his coat, then picked his briefcase up and handed it to him, holding her face toward him for a quick peck before he turned and walked out to his car. Mom closed the door and walked back to the kitchen.

“Eat slowly, Tyson. It isn’t healthy to gulp your food.”

I looked at the clock. It was almost eight-thirty. If I ate properly, I wouldn’t be able to get home early. Mom was clearing away her dishes and putting them in the sink. As she returned to get Dad’s dishes, I resigned myself that I would get at most half an hour with Mom after work before Dad got home; not much time to see and sample her wares. I put another piece of toast into my mouth and my jaw stopped.

Mom was picking up Dad’s fork, very slowly. Her robe was undone to the belt cinching it at her waist and the top had fallen open, putting her tits on full display because she wasn’t wearing a bra or a nightie. Mom took the fork, all by itself, to the sink and returned slowly. I watched her all the way, fascinated by the jostling of her breasts as she moved. Mom put one hand on the table and bent over, very slowly, to pick up Dad’s knife, breasts swinging out from her chest. The robe was looser now, allowing more to be seen. Straightening up, she walked leisurely to the sink and returned just as slowly. The belt had loosened substantially and as Mom bent to pick up Dad’s cup, leaving the saucer behind, it came completely loose. Mom deposited the cup in the sink and returned at a snail’s pace to the table. The robe was gapping apart its full length and I could now see that Mom was completely naked. She wasn’t even wearing panties!

Surprisingly, Mom’s pendulous breasts lost my attention. Even those magnificent orbs couldn’t compete with the slash of hair now visible, now gone, then there again as the robe flapped across Mom’s front. She picked up Dad’s glass and very, very slowly held it up to look at it in the kitchen light on the ceiling behind my head, the light that wasn’t even on. The robe fell completely open as Mom stretched her arm up and I was treated to a full-on frontal view of Mom’s breasts, belly, and pussy. Her tits were divine, slinging down and jutting out with nipples just the right size atop nicely rounded swells of flesh. Her belly pouted out around a large, recessed navel poised just an inch or two above a narrow band of hair that dropped like a brown waterfall spilling on either side of the slit so plainly portrayed in front of me. I licked my lips ... actually licked my lips.

Mom looked down and smiled at me. She walked to the sink, deposited the glass, and regarded me with an even larger smile. I looked at Dad’s plate and saucer on the table and then swung back to her, waiting for the leisurely walk to begin. Mom didn’t move. She looked up at the clock.

“You’d better hurry if you want to touch them. You only have a few minutes.”

I leapt to my feet, almost falling over my chair in my hurry to get to her. Mom’s laughter tinkled through the room. I rushed up to her and then stopped, hands hovering over her tits. Slowly, with respect, I lowered them, looking in her eyes for confirmation that I was indeed allowed. Mom’s eyes sparkled, whether with amusement or excitement I didn’t know, nor did I care. I let my palms and fingers fold around her breasts, cupping their weight and squeezing gently.

“They’re magnificent,” I cried.

“Do you really like them?” Mom asked, arching her back and thrusting her nipples into my palms. “They’ve been around for a long time and they’re not nearly so nice as they used to be.”

“They’re perfect,” I gushed, swirling my hands around her orbs, trying to maximize tactile contact in the short time I had left. “Just perfect,” I repeated.

Mom giggled. “I’m so glad you approve, sir,” she laughed. Her hands curled around my neck and I dipped my head so I could watch her gorgeous tits moving in my hands. I tweaked her nipples, flicked them gently back and forth, circled them in my fingers and pinched and tugged them. I was thrilled when they stiffened and doubled in size and length in response to my manipulations. She may have been doing this for a purpose but I could see with my own eyes that Mom liked what I was doing and I could tell from her breathing that she was excited. When she stopped me, Mom was panting just as much as I was.

“It’s five to, sweetie. You have to go.”

I groaned and gripped her tits harder.

“No, it’s time sweetie. Away you go.”

Mom pushed me away. I straightened up, took one last, long look and turned away.

“Hey,” Mom yelled before I reached the kitchen door. “Aren’t you going to kiss them goodbye.”

She leaned back against the counter and laughed as I frantically made my way back to her. She cupped her left breast and held it up to me, feeding her stiff nipple into my mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” Mom cooed. “Suck it. Yeah, it likes to be sucked. Hard ... suck it long, that’s it. Ohhhhhh.”

I let my hands slip down to encircle Mom’s waist, steering it around in a small circle, or maybe I was just holding on while she churned her pelvis around. She pushed toward me and pulled away, arching her back to thrust herself into my mouth, her hands roving through my hair, guiding my head into the angle she wanted. She let me suck her breasts for all of three minutes. It felt like an eternity and at the same time, just an instant. Finally, she pushed my head away hard, as if convincing herself that it was time to quit.

“Go to work, baby,” she croaked.

Mom’s eyes were wild. With her hair so disheveled, she looked ... well, horny, really horny. My eyes left her tits, soaked with my saliva, and traveled down her belly to her pussy which sported a sheen of its own.

“Don’t,” Mom objected. “There’s nothing for you down there. Now, go to work, you’re late.”

Despite her words, Mom didn’t cover herself. Reluctantly, I turned away, thinking, Then why show it to me?

It was Thursday evening. Lynn would be home on Saturday; two more days. If I was going to get further with Mom, it had to be done before then, although I have to say, I had my doubts that my newly found but limited access to her charms was simply offered to dissuade me from seeking the same from my sister. That may have been the way it started but there were now three incidents in which I suspected the driving force had been illicit sexual titillation based upon the fear of potential discovery: Twice on the couch in front of Dad and once in my room in front of Lynn. The morning’s episode was due to raw, unsubdued lust, despite the lack of a potential audience. I wasn’t sure Mom could contain herself but I didn’t want to risk what I felt could be mine just in case she could. I had the feeling that anything was possible until Saturday, despite her denial, but after that the door could slam shut.

I rushed home and nearly got into an accident when I ran a red light. I didn’t even see it. All I could see was Mom waiting for me in the kitchen with a sexy smile on her face, still dressed in her unbelted robe with her tits and pussy fully exposed, one still sporting my saliva and the other shining from its own intimate dew. It was blind luck that I didn’t T-bone the one car in sight. Only the young mother’s shocked face — there was a baby seat behind her — pulled me out of my reverie. Thankfully, Dad wasn’t home yet. Shaking from my recent close call, and in anticipation of what I would find waiting for me, I hurried to the door.

Mom was on her cell, fully dressed in a conservative white blouse and medium-length black skirt with low heeled shoes. She was talking to Dad. She smiled at me and turned away, stopping when her profile offered the best view of the breasts pushing out her blouse. She was wearing a bra.

“No, I don’t need anything, dear. Just come straight home.”

Mom pulled the phone away from her ear, pushed a button to end the call and let the phone slide from her hand onto the table.

“You’re home early, sweetie. I thought you might have to work a little later to make up for this morning.”

Why was she reminding me about this morning if she wasn’t going to let me do anything else? That was just plain mean.

“But that’s perfect. I’d like to get dinner over early tonight so I can go out with the girls. Help me set the table.”

That was shoving in the knife and giving it a little twist. Not only did I not get to do anything this afternoon, but tonight was off limits too, and to serve it all up, I was reminded of the morning’s teasing by handling knives and forks, glasses and plates. Just swell!

Dinner was over quickly just as Mom wanted. She suggested I clean up by myself. Helen was picking her up, she explained, and she had just enough time to get ready. When Mom came downstairs, she had changed into a mostly black and dark brown blouse with swirls of orange and darts of yellow that highlighted her bosom which seemed much more evident and available ensconced within the silkier material. The new blouse dipped between her breasts far enough to provide a glimpse of the half-bra containing her not-so-motherly-looking assets. Mom pulled a lipstick from her purse and applied it in exaggerated fashion to her pouting lips in the entranceway mirror. When she was done, she grabbed a coat from the closet and walked into the kitchen where I was standing near the doorway. It seemed to me that Mom held her upper arms close to her sides which pushed her breasts forward but that may have been an illusion on my part.

“Wish me a good evening, Ty” she whispered for no apparent reason, holding her face up to one side for a kiss on her cheek. “It’s ladies’ night.”

I leaned down to kiss her cheek but she turned at the last moment and my mouth landed on her moist, pouting lips. Mom kept her lips closed but let the kiss linger for several long seconds.

“Muuahh,” she said, pulling away with a smack.

Mom handed me her coat and turned around. I dutifully helped her get it on and she walked into the living room to say goodnight to Dad. I followed and leaned against the jamb in the kitchen doorway. I heard a car pull into our driveway.

“Helen’s here,” I announced.

Mom stepped to the door. “Don’t wait up, Gary. I’ll probably be a little late.”

“Ok, dear. Have fun and say hi to Helen.”

Mom opened the closet, kicked off her low-heeled pumps and slipped a pair of high-heels on, holding onto the closet door to steady herself while she lifted each foot in turn. She smiled at me and winked as if including me in her conspiracy. She opened the door and looked back at me before closing it, her lips moving silently.

“See you later.”

I played video games all night and tried without total success to keep my hand off my cock. Visions of Mom, however, would not allow total abstinence. About ten, I sauntered downstairs and put the kettle on to make tea. I didn’t know what Mom meant by getting home ‘late’ because she didn’t go out very often without Dad. I just knew I wanted to be there when she got home with a pot of hot tea ready and waiting for her.

Dad was alternating between watching the news, reading a book, and nodding off. He was dozing when the tea was ready so I didn’t bother asking him if he wanted any. I sat down with a tall, narrow mug — the kind I favoured because I liked my tea plain and piping hot — and tried to finish some of Mom’s partially completed crosswords. I didn’t have much success. Like I said, I wasn’t very good at these and Mom did the hard ones. What I did manage to accomplish was a full size boner while reviewing the comments written into the puzzles that had started everything rolling between us. I played each incident that happened in the past two weeks over and over in my mind. I was stunned that so much had happened in two short weeks, weeks that had changed my life.

Dad was snoring. I wondered whether it would be better to have him sitting there snoring when Mom came home or upstairs out of the way. If he was there, would she sit down or wake him and go upstairs with him? She seemed to get off on the danger of his or Lynn’s presence so if he wasn’t there, would she just go up to bed? After all, she hadn’t been dressed in an encouraging way when I got home. Then again, the way she had mouthed her departing words at me after ‘secretly’ slipping into high-heels was definitely seductively played. I decided to take my chances with Mom alone. I didn’t want to furtively feel her up, I wanted another sexual experience like she had granted in my bedroom and the kitchen. In fact, I wanted even more. I’d get rid of Dad and make sure she knew I had hot tea ready for her — and biscuits, those European ones she loved. Where the hell were they?

“Dad.” I shook his shoulder. “Dad.” Several more shakes. “You’ve been sleeping for almost an hour. You should go to bed.”

“Is your mother home?”

“Not yet.”

Dad closed his eyes and slumped further into his chair. I roused him again.

“Dad. Mom said not to wait up for her. She’ll be mad if you sleep in tomorrow.”

Dad’s eyes opened. “Right,” he said, struggling to get up. I held out my hand and he pulled himself up. “Are you waiting up for her?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Good boy,” he said and shuffled up the stairs.

I rushed into the kitchen in a mad search for those biscuits. Mom could be here any minute. I returned to the living room and sat in Mom’s spot. I ignored the crossword book and watched TV instead.

I made three more pots of tea though I only drank the one mug. Each one got cold and the last one had also become decidedly warm when lights flashed on the windows from a car pulling into our driveway. A door shut and I heard Mom and Helen exchanging goodbyes. It was after midnight, almost twelve-thirty. I got up to meet Mom at the door but it opened before I could get there and she slipped inside, closing the door and leaning back against it.

“Whew,” she exclaimed. “That was fun. Is your father still up?”

I shook my head. Mom held her purse out to me which I took and held while she unbuttoned her coat. She shrugged it off her shoulders and handed it to me to hold as well. With one hand on the closet door, Mom leaned over to slip a high-heel off her raised foot. It appeared to be even more of a struggle than it had been to put it on. One would have thought the opposite would be the case. Half bent over toward me the way she was, I noticed that her blouse had slipped a button or two since she had left. Immediately, my cock began to tingle and swell.

“We danced and danced. We had so much fun,” Mom gushed.

She looked up at me and I blushed because she caught me looking straight down her blouse at her loosely hanging breasts. She was almost spilling out of the little black half-bra she was wearing. Mom smiled and switched feet, holding her hand out for me to steady so she could use the other one to remove her remaining shoe. Her tits jiggled and the blouse seemed to become even more revealing.