Chapter 2

After his shift at the gas station, Blake slept until two. He spent some time over coffee and exercise, and then went to work downloading the pictures of his mother from the day before. There were plenty of blurry shots to delete, but by the time he finished sorting through them, he was left with several images sensuous enough to make his palms sweat.

These were the most daringly up close and personal shots of the slumbering real estate attorney he'd gotten so far. He'd been lucky. He caught a few of the afternoon sun highlighting her hose encased legs, emphasizing their supple shape in the careless position she'd flung them in her sleep.

One of the more surprising shots caught her from the side, with her rising cleavage standing proud against the open top of her blouse. One knee was raised, forcing her skirt to ride carelessly over her hip, exposing most of the other leg as it stretched along the couch. Blake felt the strength of his rushing pulse leap into his cock as he gazed at the frame.

He only wished her face had been in the shot. He knew he was as far off the deep end as it gets, but there was something about her - a quality - an essence that got into his blood and wouldn't leave him alone.

Sweet love or erotic obsession?

When he was as honest with himself as he knew how, he was sure it was both. Only the combination could feel like this. It explained why he always grew so bored with any young women he might've struck up relationships with. He already lived with the most beautiful and sensuous women he'd ever seen. One who looked at him like he was the only young man on the planet, and who believed strongly in everything he did.

It wasn't as if Blake avoided women. He simply had yet to meet one he admired the way he admired Teagan. He felt a silly awkwardness as well as a complete sense of ease whenever she was near, and no one else had ever made him feel anything close. That she was barely aware of her own qualities only magnified them, as far as he was concerned.

But he couldn't forget she was his mother, even though she was nothing like his friends' mothers. She was younger and more independent. She took better care of herself, although she worked too hard, and she had a world class sensuality he felt needed to be celebrated through his art and photography.

Sometimes his desire to possess her completely, to be the one to show her who she truly was, brought him feelings of impossible anguish. None of what he dreamed every day could ever be possible. And then, what would she do if she ever discovered how he truly felt? He'd risk losing her completely, and quite possibly being cast out of her life forever.

Blake leaned back in his chair and let his hand settle over the growing cock in his pants. He was already thinking of how he could treat this new image in another print, but he soon closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to the day before when he was massaging her feet and calves.

He wanted so much to please her, to make her feel as good as anyone can ever feel. He dreamt of making her cum and seeing the look of sweet release on her beautiful face. He wanted to wipe her troubles out of existence and think of her knowing nothing but happiness and pleasure.

Blake lowered his zipper to give his yearning shaft room to breathe. No sooner had he slipped his hand inside his pants for a few tension relieving strokes than the sound of the garage door invaded his reverie.

She was almost an hour early. Given his present condition, he wouldn't even be able to stand up when she came in. He almost wished she'd go straight into the house, but he knew she wouldn't. She never failed to come up to his studio when she came home every day, and he knew he'd only feel disappointed if she didn't.

Blake hastily pulled his zipper back over the prominent bulge in his briefs. He closed the folder of new pictures and opened up a landscape to make it look as if he'd been working on something perfectly uninteresting. Then he started to button down his shirt, hoping the tails would cover the loitering evidence of his true activities.

When Teagan walked in, Blake still had the last two buttons to go. She made her routine stop to lean on the back of the couch and kick off her painful looking office pumps. He was always surprised by how much this simple gesture changed her whole appearance. It seemed to soften her lines somehow, along with taking three inches of height off her stature. Blake admired both guises, but in different ways.

Her skirt was noticeably shorter and tighter today. Her hose were sheerer, and there was a pattern running up the outside of each leg. When she took off her jacket, the skirt lifted slightly while the round fullness of her breasts strained against a blouse that was also tighter than yesterday.

Blake's throat felt plugged full of cotton.

"Not working today?" she smiled curiously.

"You know I don't go in until..."

"I don't mean the gas station, Baby. That's just what you're doing until your real work takes off. Your prints."

"Oh, yeah, um – today I'm just – preparing some stuff."

She padded up behind him on stockinged feet and leaned over the back of his chair to look at the image on his monitor. His head suddenly filled with her perfume. Something sweet and a little bit smoky.

"Very pretty," she said.

Gorgeous, he thought.

She sounded more impressed than she looked. Blake couldn't put his finger on it, but it was as if she were looking somewhere beyond the screen. Then she looked at him. Her face was close enough to kiss. Her eyes caught his, and he suddenly had the feeling she wasn't saying to him just as much as he wasn't saying to her.

After an awkward moment, she smiled warmly and pushed off the back of his chair, moving to take her usual spot on the sofa. Blake's cock still felt swollen, but he knew she was expecting him to pour a glass of wine. He felt sure enough his shirttails would conceal the persistent bulge in his jeans, so he finally stood up and fetched the glasses and bottle.

When he turned to join her on the couch, she'd already stretched out to recline, leaning against the pillow at the end. Blake tried to keep his reaction from showing, but he wasn't sure he did a very good job.

"You're back early today," he noted as he sat along the edge of the couch. He filled both glasses and handed her one.

"I guess you got me thinking yesterday." She took a slow, deep sip, leveling her eyes on him across the top of her glass.

"I did?"

"About how I've been promising to lighten up."

She arched her back and sighed. The gesture pushed her breasts against her blouse buttons and Blake almost spilled his wine on the coffee table.

"I just worry about you," he said, steadying his voice.

Teagan smiled contentedly and rested her hand on his thigh.

"You take such good care of me." Her tone sounded dreamy. "I hope you know how much that means to me."

"I don't do so much."

"You do so much more than you think. Like yesterday. That foot massage was heavenly. But I should warn you, that could be quite addictive."

"I like the idea of you being addicted to feeling heavenly." He said it without thinking, but it felt good to see a look of sheer contentment soften her face. "Is that your way of saying you want another?" he added with a hint of suggestion.

Her expectant smile was full of warmth and something sultry. Blake was momentarily mesmerized. There was something in her smoky, brown eyes he couldn't explain, but it made the room feel warmer. The thought of having her stocking clad feet back in his hands put his pulse on a thrumming edge. The tingling bulge in the crotch of his jeans had only relaxed part way, and now he could feel blood already rushing back to his cock.

"Are you sure you don't mind? Two days in a row?"

"If you're going to be addicted then you'll need one every day."

His tone was brittle from breathing shallow. By now he was sure she'd notice the bulge he didn't want her to see, so he slid to the opposite end of the couch without getting up. He knew he was addicted, too, and was sure he'd feel shivers of withdrawal if he couldn't feel the luscious rush he had the day before.

"You're spoiling me, Honey," his pretty mother sighed as she settled deeper in the cushions.

"I hope so," he replied.

The smaller, tighter skirt left so much more of her legs exposed than yesterday, and the pattern down the sides was beginning to make his pulse hammer. He took a deep breath to steady the tremor in his hands as he reached for her feet.

"Wait," she stopped him. "Let's do it right, okay?"

Before he had a chance to respond, Teagan lowered the short zipper on the side of her skirt. She lifted her ass off the couch and pushed it down her legs without looking at him. Then she sank back down and lifted her feet to pull the skirt completely off.

Blake's heart felt like a trembling fist as the brief flash of her raised thighs froze in his mind. Pale blue panties, darkened by the sheen of her hose, encased the demure pussy pouting between them. When she lowered her feet to rest against his leg, he couldn't help pausing to notice the scant cut. It never occurred to him she even owned panties like that, but they looked perfectly natural on her.

Her blouse hem fell little more than a couple inches past the waistband of her pantyhose, and he could feel her watching him scan her lush body. His eyes fell down the sweeping contours of her legs and came to rest on her feet. His cock was straining desperately to uncoil from his confining briefs, a few, agonizing inches from his mother's nylon clad toes.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked. "It's more comfortable like this."

"No." His voice sounded like a whispered croak. He quickly picked up her foot and ground his thumbs into the arch, hoping to distract her.

"Oh, Blake," she sighed instantly.

Her entire body relaxed and softened with the first pressure of his thumbs. Her breasts rose up against her blouse, straining the buttons as her breath deepened. Her eyes were already closed, and she flung her arm over her eyes in a familiar gesture.

She sighed his name again as he worked against the tension in her foot with strong fingers and thumbs. Just hearing her call his name in that pleasure-weakened tone caused his cock to strain even harder. He rested her heel against the top of his thigh and worked on her toes one handed while the other slid smoothly along her calf.