Chapter 19

I went down into the kitchen. I wasn't looking forward to what Mom had to say. She was sat at the table drinking some coffee. I have to admit she looked pretty hot sitting there. There was an extra button undone on her shirt, I saw some thigh below the bottom of her skirt.

She smiled when she saw me. "Well, I guess Leslie and Samantha kept you pretty busy the last couple of days. You must be pretty hungry by now."

I hadn't thought about it but it was a good sixteen hours since we ate. "I'd love something."

"Too late for breakfast?"

"No, that sounds great."

Mom got up and made a big production of bending over to get frying pans, eggs, bacon. It seemed that each thing she got was on the bottom shelf and took an extra long time to get. She finally started to cook some bacon and eggs.

"What do you want to drink? Orange juice? Coffee?"

"Some orange juice would be great."

She poured a big glass and put it on the table. "Sit down and drink." She checked the frying pan, satisfied herself it wasn't going to burn, then sat down next to me. Our kitchen table had been custom made years ago. There was a U-shaped bench with a U-shaped table facing it. The open end of the table was straight. Mom pushed my leg to move me in so she could fit on the end of the bench.

"Looks like you need a shower, Wes. And you definitely need to change those shorts. What do you think people will say if they see that slime on the front of them?" Her hand was on my thigh.

I mumbled something. Mom seemed to be going to great lengths to embarrass me lately.

Mom squeezed my thigh, got up and got my breakfast. She put the plate in front of me, then sat down next to me. I had to move further in so I had room to move my arms.

I was chewing some bacon when mom said "You know, you made me lose a bet with your sister yesterday."

"I heard you talking about owing her a dollar. What's that about?" I picked up the orange juice.

"She bet me I could even grab you by the balls and you wouldn't do anything." I spit a mouthful of juice over the table.

"Oh come on, Weslie. There's no need to be embarrassed. You know you've always been my favorite. And I did let Leslie have you first." She got up to get a dishrag and wiped up the juice.

What the hell? Two days ago I was a virgin without a care in the world. Since then I've raped my sister, made love to her countless ways, been assaulted by a dog, been forced to have anal sex with my next door neighbor (I admit it wasn't too much force but I never would have done it if Les hadn't pushed me into it) and now my mother was coming on to me.

Mom was sitting next to me again. She put her hand on my thigh and was now massaging it. There's something about a mother's touch that is so soothing. I think a big part of it is they have no hesitation. They're used to tossing that body around however they need to in the diaper changing, breast feeding, nose wiping years. She put her hand on my leg and started rubbing it and it felt so good. Then she moved up the thigh and put the palm of her hand over my cock. "Spread your legs, Weslie. There's a good boy."

She cupped me in her hand and explored to find out what I had down there. Our last bath time must have been 8 or 9 years ago. "My, you've grown." And I was growing even more with this attention.

Breakfast was finished and forgotten. Mom squeezed, then said "I don't want to mess these pants up any more. Go upstairs and take a shower, then meet me in my bedroom. And hurry up. Your sister's going to be back in about an hour and a half."

She got up and started to clean off the table. I went up to the shower, wondering what was going on.

It felt good to get in the shower. I let the hot water run over me and felt the heat sink into my muscles. I had an idea Les and Sam weren't going to let me alone very long without making me do something to one or both of them. I was going to have to watch myself and make sure I ate, exercised and showered regularly.

I looked in the mirror as I was drying off. I wasn't to the point where I needed to shave every day but I figured I better shave while I was there. You never know what damage the start of a beard could do. Great. Another thing to worry about.

I wrapped a towel around my waist and went into the bedroom. Good thing I washed clothes yesterday. I was going to have to do something about the number of shorts I was messing up each day.

Mom's door was pushed to but not latched. I knocked.

"Come in, Wesley."

For 15 years Mom had just been Mom. She was pretty but never dressed in any way to make it obvious. I'd been very surprised to see her in the short skirt and showing a little cleavage in the kitchen earlier. Mom's night time attire was a floor length robe. I never saw her in anything else when she was ready for bed. The few times I'd seen her when she had to get up and come out of her room for some reason, there was the robe. I never thought about it, but I suppose I figured she slept in the thing.

Everyone in our family had different color hair. Dad's was almost black. Les was not quite blond, I like to call it caramel. Mine was a bit darker and most people called it brown. Jaz was a cross between blond and red and he was the one with freckles. Mom was a true redhead. That dark, rusty color. The only thing in nature that approximates the color of her hair is the color some leaves turn in winter. Not the orange leaves, the deep, dark red ones. Mom could probably be naked and the first thing you'd notice would be her hair. And then her freckles. Not to say her body wasn't great. Her hair was so striking it would just suck attention away from anything else.

There were no lights on in the bedroom. The drapes were closed but were letting a little light in. It wasn't bright, but I could clearly see what was in the room. I looked at the bed.

Mom was laying on her back on top of the bedspread. She had a couple of pillows under her head, raising it up so she could see me in the doorway, where I was frozen in awe. She had a powder blue nightie on that was designed for her hair. It had thin straps over the shoulders that were mostly covered by her red mane. She wasn't flat on her back - she was somehow up a little bit and her legs were bent. She looked sexy, wholesome, innocent and slutty all at the same time. This wasn't my Mom.

The nightie looked to have 3 or 4 layers. The outside layer was so thin you could use it as a magnifying glass - it wasn't going to hide anything. It wasn't tight but somehow accented every part of her body. Her breasts were totally covered but the material was drawn in under them. I don't know if it was the way it was cut or there was some elastic there but there was no doubt what was underneath that top part and how big they were. I'd never noticed that Mom was stacked. She wasn't as big as old Mrs. Cartwright down the street who weighed in at 350 lbs., but she was bigger than any of the other Moms around.

It flared out under the drawn in part and came down. I imagine if she was standing on the floor in this thing it would come down an inch or two under the bottom of her butt cheeks. The way she was lying on the bed it had ridden up enough to display matching panties. These covered everything while displaying everything. There was a dark area at the front the was obviously Mom's pubic hair under them. Even in the limited light and through the panties, you could tell that her red hair was natural. I also noticed another dark area. Her panties were starting to get wet a few inches further back.