Chapter 4

As I lay in the big double bed waiting for my husband to finally get sick of TV and join me I thought over what had happened over the last almost 24 hours. I was a bit shocked at my actions but in no way regretted them or thought of stopping and, in fact, planned on what I was going to do next day. Not actually masturbating, not really needing another climax so soon, but just gently rubbing my cunt and toying with my nipples I decided that I would carry on with what I had done today but with a couple of minor changes and when Roy finally came to bed it was, as expected, just to go straight to sleep.

Next morning after father and daughter had departed, I showered and today selected a chaste pair of white cotton panties that were quite high fitting and modest. I made sure that they were pulled up tightly and clung tightly to the lips of my vagina outlining them clearly and I was also pleased to see that the thick bush of my hair was not visible but made a slight bulge. With no bra again and wearing the same housecoat I headed for my kitchen giving Peter a knock in passing.

His juice was waiting and his Bacon and Eggs weren't far behind when he arrived, and I made sure that my robe stayed closed when I served him. I did however lean over a bit more than really necessary giving him a glimpse of my cleavage but nothing else. When I sat down opposite hi with my coffee I looked at him and commented,

"You don't look as cheerful as usual. In fact you look disappointed or troubled or something. You're not worried about anything are you? You know I'm here to talk to if you need anything or have a problem."

For a few seconds Peter just continued with his breakfast and then he must have finally summoned up the nerve to reply.

"No. It's nothing really. I just hoped for something but I suppose it must have all been in my imagination." He didn't meet my eye as he said this, keeping a close watch on his plate.

I smirked — I knew what he hoped for. "Well, don't just leave it there. What was it you were hoping for? Tell me and I may be able to help you."

"No it's nothing. Just forget it." He continued to shovel his food in, seemingly desperate to get away, "I'd better get a move on or I'll be late."

"Don't bullshit me, Peter." I replied, "I know what time you have to be there and you have lots of time. Now don't try and change the subject. What's bothering you?"

"No it's too embarrassing!"

"Go on — I've told you before you can talk to me about anything, I'm your mother for God's sake."

"That's most of the problem. Now just drop, please."

"I won't just drop it and you're not leaving my kitchen until you tell me, young man." I was really into the stern but caring mother bit, by now.

"OK! You asked for it! After yesterday morning and what happened last night I hoped that you might be a bit more attentitive and even maybe a bit ore 'loving' this morning." His face reddened as he blurted this out.

"What do you mean? Are you talking about when my robe accidentally fell open yesterday morning and that I let you massage my shoulders in the afternoon? What did you expect this morning?" I almost had the 'A little bit outraged mother' down right.

"Yes. That is what I was talking about." He replied, "And about you letting me see up your skirt last night."

"What are you talking about? Letting you see up my skirt? When exactly was that?' I managed to sound outraged and embarrassed at the same time and even managed to blush a little.