Chapter 8: Lost and Found

I was pretty cocky the next day. The more I thought about things, the more I convinced myself that I had been right about Mom. It wasn’t all about the recital. She had always used her allure and favors to accomplish her goals but she also got off on it and learned to like it, rationalizing her own behavior as necessary because she was too proper to want wild sex. But when pushed near the edge, she had the potential to leap far beyond. Last night had confirmed my theory.

I worked through lunch the next day and rushed home a half hour earlier than usual to give me extra time alone with Mom before Dad arrived. Mom was surprised to see me, and then again, perhaps not so surprised.

As with the last time, she was in the kitchen slicing vegetables for a salad. I surprised her and she whirled around, paring knife in hand, looking frightened, then relieved and pleased. I was just happy to see that Mom was following her new braless-around-the-household routine and that, at least while she was alone, a pair of buttons were deemed sufficient to keep her shirt together and allowed maximal access for cooling air.

And her son’s hands. As I strode toward Mom, she lifted her arms for the hug she could see coming. I slipped my left arm around her waist and my right hand slickly inside her blouse to firmly grasp her tit. I smothered Mom’s protest with my lips and soon slipped my tongue in her mouth. It was a long kiss. I wanted time to work on Mom’s breast to get past the anger I detected in her brief protest before my mouth covered hers, time for her body to react and override her mind. My cock was tingling with excitement and so was my brain when I realized Mom’s body was reacting as I hoped, so when I felt Mom’s nipple poking hard into my palm, I released her and gulped in much needed air.

CRACK!

I reeled back, stunned. Mom’s right arm was swinging back from what must have been a full swing right cross, open-hand slap across my face which stung like hell.

“Don’t you ever grab me like that again! Do you hear me?” Mom screamed.

I yanked my head up and down.

“I want you to do that recital, and I’m willing to reward you for it, but it’s something that I give, not something you take. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yeah. I mean, Yes, Mom.”

“Alright. Now run along and make yourself scarce until your father comes home.”

I was shocked but by the time I got to my room, I was angry. To hell with her stupid recital, I thought. I started a shoot-em-up game on my computer and took out my frustration until I was called down for supper. Mom was wearing the same blouse but three more buttons were now secured. Still, the movement of her breasts under the blouse was like an electric magnet to my eyes. For some reason, her recent rebuke made her seem incredibly desirable. I was happy when Dad asked if Mom minded if he ate his dessert in the living room while he watched the news. I stayed in the kitchen with Mom.

“Did you want to practice tonight?” Mom asked, slicing a piece of pie for me and one for her.

“Yeah, that would be great, Mom.”

“So, the recital’s still on then?”

“Definitely. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“That’s good,” Mom replied. “I don’t know. For some reason I wasn’t sure.”

Mom put the pie slices on a couple of plates and brought them to the table but she didn’t set them down.

“Boy, it’s been really hot here today,” she said, glancing toward the living room where the sound of the evening news drifted down the hallway toward us. “Do you think you can help me with something before we have our dessert.”

“Sure Mom,” I answered, eager to make up for my transgression this afternoon.

Mom leaned forward, holding the pie plates out to her sides.

“Can you loosen my blouse for me,” she lowered her voice, “to give me a little air.”

What a reversal. Though taken completely by surprise, I nevertheless lifted my hands to her blouse with only the slightest delay. Shock may have registered on my face because Mom had a smug smile on her face. I didn’t care. She was asking me to undo her blouse and that’s all that mattered. One button, two. She made no move to stop me, waiting patiently while I stared at her expanding cleavage as if I’d never seen it before. I slipped a third button loose.

“Can you adjust them so they get more air,” Mom asked. “My hands are full.”

I slipped both hands tentatively inside, fingers slipping under the round bottoms of her breasts, lifting and separating her tits.

“That’s it, like that,” Mom whispered.

She set her pie down and then reached under my arms to put mine in front of me. I couldn’t help taking the opportunity as her breasts dipped to slide my thumbs over to flick her distended nipples. I braced myself for another slap.

“That was little bratty, Jon,” Mom said, raising her right hand. “Do you think it was worth it?”

I cringed. Mom’s hand closed on my head, but slowly.

Grasping a handful of my hair, Mom pulled my head toward her and pulled her blouse apart with the other.

“Suck it, you bad boy,” Mom hissed, lifting her left breast and feeding her long nipple into my mouth.

I sucked her nipple in hard but she still pushed her tit into my face and pulled on my head, her hand working it around in a circle around her breast. For at least a minute, Mom ground my head on her tit, then suddenly pulled her tit away and yanked my head back.

“That’s better,” she said, sitting down. She carved off a piece of pie with the edge of her fork and raised it to her mouth, smiling sweetly at me before slipping it into her mouth, tongue extending to receive it.

Fuck I was hard. I was panting and my boner felt like it was going to break.

“Eat your pie, sweetie,” Mom said.

I picked up my fork and put a piece into my mouth, looking at Mom’s breasts heaving under the partially closed but still unbuttoned blouse. Mom looked down at her ample bosom.

“Oh, yes,” she said, putting her fork down. Mom grasped her blouse in both hands and pulled it apart, tucking it back beside her breasts, then resumed eating her dessert, bare tits jutting out, capped by stiff nipples.

“Don’t you like your dessert?” Mom asked, since I wasn’t eating. “I thought it was your favorite.”

I put a piece of pie in my mouth.

“Don’t you like your pie like this?” Mom sucked another piece in on her extended lips and smacked her lips, “Mmmmmmm.”

She turned slightly toward me as if to show me something, jutting her left tit out. It was sparkly wet, covered in my saliva.

“I love dessert, too,” Mom said, “but you can’t have it all the time. Right?”

I shook my head.

“Should we practice especially hard tonight?” Mom put extra emphasis on ‘hard’.

I nodded enthusiastically, hopefully.

Mom prepared a hot toddy for Dad and asked me to take it to him while she got changed for practice. I had already changed into my pajamas and lied to my Dad when he asked, on seeing me in my pajamas, if I had remembered my jockstrap.

I was surprised to see Mom descending the stairs in a fancy dress with a tight bodice and bare shoulders and a full, generous and loosely pleated skirt. Smiling, she walked past me to talk to Dad. I craned my neck to hear her words since she was speaking so quietly.

“Drew, I’m going to do a full dress rehearsal, to get in the mood. Please don’t interrupt us until we’re finished. Ok?”