Chapter 4: Teasing Is for Toes

The remaining days of the school holidays were filled with Patrick taking care of me and us tiptoeing around each other. I made sure to always be fully clothed and modest whenever my son was present, and once Patrick returned to school and was surrounded by his female classmates, he seemed to forget about me. We slipped back into our comfortable routine, keeping our promise to sleep in separate rooms.

My workload at the office gradually increased until I was practically back to working full time. However, I found solace in the fact that I enjoyed my job, because otherwise I would have been incredibly frustrated with the way things were going. Life at home continued as usual, with one notable change - Patrick and I no longer sought comfort and companionship in each other’s beds. My son, my son, seemed to be taking his studies more seriously and we took turns cooking meals on a casual basis.

That day, I was having a horrible day at the office. Suddenly my phone buzzed and the screen said it was Patrick. “Now what?” I thought. I didn’t need more problems.

“Hi, Honey. What’s up?” I answered.

“Hi, Mom. Would you like if I pick you up after work and take you to a good restaurant?”

“I’d love that, son. But I’m not dressed for a night out.”

“You’re beautiful anyway, mom, ” he said. I smiled. “I’m not planning to dress up either, just a quiet dinner at some nearby bistro, ” he assured me.

“Well, kind young man, if you put it that way ... I’d be delighted.”

“Great!” he said. “What time is good for you?” I looked at the clock and then to the papers on my desk. “Pick me in one hour,” I said. It would give me time to finish everything and refresh my makeup and my lady parts. “Lady parts?” I realized. “Where did that come from?”

“See you then, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too, Honey.” I ended the call with a smile.

Patrick was waiting for me at the lobby. He wasn’t wearing a suit, but still he was dressed one notch above his regular clothes. I smiled thinking that anybody who saw us would think “cougar.”

“Did you wait for long?” I asked.

“Nah, Mom. I just arrived here,” he lied. The guard had called me as soon as he entered the building, and that was at least 20 minutes ago.

“Do you mind if I drive?” he asked.

“Not at all, Patrick. Lead on.”

He opened the car door for me and waited until I had my safety belt on to close it. “A true gentleman,” I thought.

He drove us to a small Italian place I had never been before, and the atmosphere was totally romantic. The pasta was delicious and the beverages -white wine for me, a Coke for him- completed a fabulous time.

“This is a beautiful place. How did you find it?” I asked him.

“Google Reviews,” he smiled.

When I took out my card to pay, he stopped me. “I asked you out. I pay,” he said. I put my card away.

After we arrived home, I retreated to my bedroom and laid on the bed. I started to think about life, job and whatnot. The truth was, I missed Alfred terribly, and now that I no longer had Patrick to lean on at all times, that feeling was hitting me even harder. Memories brought tears to my eyes again. Unable to bear the weight of my emotions alone, I headed downstairs to join Patrick before I broke down completely.

I tried to put on a brave face for him, but the wine I drank with dinner only made me feel even more melancholic. We sat in front of the TV together, but I could tell he sensed something was wrong by the way I hugged him tightly and kissed him goodnight when he went to bed. In my tipsy state, I had forgotten that, since we were sleeping alone in our respective bedrooms, I had changed my usual sleepwear. So, when I stumbled into Patrick’s room, he turned on his bedside lamp and was greeted with the sight of his mother standing there in nothing but lacy black bikini panties and a flimsy t-shirt that barely covered her stomach. Even as he lay there staring at me in shock, it took a moment for me to realize what he was seeing. And instead of feeling embarrassed or ashamed, in my vulnerable state all I could do was ask him with slurred words.

“Patrick, I know what we decided but I really don’t want to be alone tonight and I need someone to hold and talk to. Would you mind very much if we slept together just once more?”

Patrick lay there, stunned and speechless, until he suddenly snapped out of his daze and looked at me in surprise. Embarrassment flooded through me as I realized what was happening and quickly turned to leave.

But Patrick’s voice stopped me in my tracks. “Don’t go, Mom. I’d love for you to stay with me,” he said, patting the spot beside him invitingly.

I scurried over and climbed into bed next to him, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through the blankets. Patrick wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, whispering in my ear.

“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you and we’ll see if we can do something about it.”

As I poured out her heart about missing my husband, Patrick made noises of comfort and understanding, making me feel better with his words.

I didn’t realize how much I missed physical affection until Patrick’s hands began slow strokes and caresses on my back, first over my shirt and then on my bare skin underneath. The comforting sensation was so strong that I couldn’t bring myself to stop him.

But as my senses returned, I became aware of Patrick’s hard cock pressing against me and I reveled in the feeling without pulling away. Pressing my face into his neck and shoulder, I felt his hands wandering all over my back and onto places that made me shiver with pleasure.

Our excitement grew as I started to feel him too. Our bodies were pressed together with only their shirts between us, so I couldn’t resist and suggested for us to take off our shirts for a more intimate experience. Patrick eagerly agreed, shedding his shirt before helping me remove mine.

The sensation of his bare skin against mine was electrifying and my nipples hardened at the contact. I knew Patrick must be able to feel them pushing into his chest, fueling my arousal even more. His hands slid down to my panties, gripping my buttocks tightly and pressing my lower body against his erection.

In that moment, I knew I wanted my son’s mouth and began kissing him in a decidedly non-friendly way. At first, Patrick was hesitant but soon caught on and our tongues danced together as we explored each other’s mouths.

My underwear slid off my body, leaving me naked in Patrick’s arms. My pussy throbbed with anticipation, ready to make love with my son, as I felt waves of lubrication flow from my swollen lips. The desire was almost too much to bear as I sought for my son’s touch.

Suddenly I came to my senses, realizing what we were about to enter into. To my surprise, I found the strength to try and stop Patrick from going any further.

“Stop, stop, Patrick! We can’t do this.” My voice echoed through the empty room as I held my hands up to stop his advances. The moonlight streaming in cast a soft glow on his flushed face and disheveled hair.

“I can’t let you have sex with me,” I continued, taking a step back. “I’m sorry but it’s just not right and we’ve got to stop right now.”

But he was still clutching one buttock with one hand while the other was thrust down between my thighs, almost reaching onto my most intimate area. At my pleading, he withdrew his hand but still kept me pressed hard against his erection.

“God Mom, you don’t know what you’re asking,” Patrick groaned. “Can’t you feel how hard I am? It even hurts.”

His erection felt enormous and I felt a twinge of sympathy for him. In that moment, I decided I had to help him out.

“I can’t let you have proper sex,” I said breathlessly. “But we can do something else.” I sat in front of him and took his member in my hands. It was beautiful, hard and beautiful.

“Now son, I want you not to move, right? I’m going to do something, but keep your hands to yourself.” He simply nodded.

I was sitting with my legs folded, and used my feet to hold his balls. They looked heavy and needy, and his hard cock had started to seep wetness from its hole.

“I’m going to give you a footjob, Honey. Remember, don’t move.” I caressed his length with my soles, and felt his breath accelerating. “Just like his father,” I thought. Alfred always loved my soles. I grabbed his shaft between my toes and started to pump up and down.

“Oh, Mom!” he sighed.

“That should feel almost as good as actually being inside me,” I said.

I could feel with my own pussy becoming wet, and I rubbed some of my own lubrication on his cock to make it easier for him to glide back and forth. While my feet worked him, my hands were occupied rubbing my sensitive clit. I knew I would soon reach orgasm.

Patrick was definitely enjoying himself as well, groaning and sweating above me. I pulled his head to me for another kiss, our tongues dancing in time with his thrusts.

As his movements became faster and jerky, I pulled my feet away, taking his cock in my hands. He pushed his hips forward as hard as he could, and I could feel it beginning to spasm and jerk against my hands. It wasn’t long before he released himself with such a force that he painted my belly with his cum.

The feeling of his release triggered my own climax, and I moaned as pleasure coursed through my body. We lay there for a moment, panting and catching our breaths.

“Was that okay?” I asked, still trying to gather my thoughts. “Do you feel relieved and satisfied now? You certainly helped me reach an orgasm.”