Foot Rub for MumbySonOfASoccerMom©
*all characters in this story are adults over age 18*
I must have lost track of the time! I hurriedly tucked my eight inches of swollen meat into the waistband of my track pants and sat upright.
She arrived through the back door at 5:30 as usual, tore off her heavy backpack and tossed it to the floor behind the couch, unstrapped and stepped out of her little brown sandals, then nudged them over toward the wall.
She gracefully tiptoed around the couch. I looked up from the television to see her smiling and waving.
"Hello! How was you day?" She asked.
"Fine." I replied.
She sat down at the opposite end of the couch.
"Do you mind flipping over to the news?"
I felt around and fumbled with the remote before handing it over my mum. She changed the station just as the news anchor began announcing the day's top stories.
"Slow news day." I said, as the program faded to commercial.
Mum started up from the couch.
"I'm going to go get changed, and then come down and make some supper."
As she stood up from the couch she turned the television to a comedy program for my benefit, set down the remote on the coffee table an walked toward the stairs. I heard a creak as my mum reached the first step at the bottom of the staircase. The noise startled me and my head swivelled around.
My gaze fell first upon her petite feet, trailed up her slender legs up under her flowing blouse to her taut, soft, sexy stomach. Then around to an eyeful of my mum's delicious round ass before tracing back down her legs as she climbed the stairs out of view up toward her bedroom.
Damn, I thought, she's lookin' good for 50 something. At that point I retrieved from my track pants, a still semi-engorged tool. In my head I replayed the image of that swaying ass ascending the stairs. Just as I started to enjoy myself I heard footsteps headed back to the stairs. I re-tucked, sprawled out across the couch on my stomach and tuned back into the television.
I could make out the light footsteps come bounding down the stairs behind me, and going down the hallway to the kitchen. I recognized the rustle of a sandwich being prepared.
At that time my mum called from the kitchen, "Maybe we'll just snack a bit tonight."
"Sounds good." I hollered back.
She brought her sandwich and a glass of milk into the living room and set them on the coffee table. Now she had on some old sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt that used to belong to me.
She sat on the end of the couch, now next to my feet. She picked up the remote flipping through the channels, with all of the shows already ten minutes in, she finally settled on an hour long drama. Before too long the sandwich was scarfed down and, deep into her show, my mum had sunk into the couch.
"Would you mind scratching my legs?"
Without waiting for her reply I threw my legs up onto her lap and turned my head up at her, wide eyed, batting my eyelashes with a big toothy smile.
She sighed. "Okay."
We had watched about another five minutes of the show as she gently scratched up and down my calves with her delicate fingers. As some action unfolded on the screen she would stop scratching and rest her little hands on me. I was getting tired and so were my eyes so I was only glancing at the show here and there.
She weakly clutched to me, reacting to the excitement on the TV, then slowly went back to lightly scraping at my leg. I was beginning to get a chill so i threw a blanket over everything but my feet and calves. After enjoying my mother's soft touch on my skin for a few minutes I developed a sizable chubby. Reaching down under the blanket to adjust my junk I made what I felt was a bold move and pushed my cock down along my leg until it held itself against the back of my leg.
"A little higher?" I asked of her. Sounding groggy.
She slowly scratched her way up my calf, around the back of my knee. I was pretending to be half napping at this point. Mum's hands started on my upper leg. Thinking of her warm, petite hands clawing their way towards my manhood only helped my manhood grow toward her hot, little hands.
I let out a sleepy sigh.
She was finally about halfway up my upper leg. Tracing small circles around my leg, getting closer. My mother's knuckles grazed the side of my cock. She continued to scratch very close. I believe she had felt something but was unsure of what. With out stretched fingers she began to drag nails up my thigh, narrowly missing my member with both her thumb and forefinger.
Drawing her hand back down, the thumb and forefinger on her hand came together, draping and sliding down over my hot swollen head. It felt amazing. A boyhood dream fulfilled having my mum touch my dick. I wished she would go into a frenzy, grab a hand full of cock and stroke it with all she's got. Alas the touch only lasted a split second. She quickly continued scratching a bit lower, obviously startled. Probably because she had touched her son's penis. Or maybe it was more shock and excitement over feeling a big hot cock head halfway down his leg.
I pretended to stir from my slumber and sat up.
"Can you scratch my back?"
I folded my arms in front of me to support my head as I lay over my mother's lap. My left hand draped over the inside her right knee, my right hand, a lightly balled fist, rested along her inner thigh. I pulled myself cuddled tight to her and she began to massage my back.
As she worked her way up to my neck I wiggled my head around to get more comfortable, and re-adjusted my arms for support. My left hand lightly clutching my mum's knee, as my other hand fell upon the couch nestled between her legs brushing the inside of either thigh.
She continued to massage my neck. I moved my head to get comfy again. This cause my hand to brush back and forth against her thighs. She went to rubbing my back again, and then my shoulders. My mum began to massage my upper arm, gently pushing on it, trapping my hand against the warmth of her crotch. I could tell she enjoyed the solid muscle of my arms as she was feeling them up a while. As mum rubbed up and down my bicep, my fist would brush against her hot covered sex. I pretended to fidget a little, giving the slightest wiggle of my knuckles when she would push my arm toward her pelvis.
I think she was starting to get embarrassed, about trying to get off on her son's hand, or sick of her son trying to molest her, when she said "Ooff, You're getting a little heavy," got up and went to the kitchen for a drink. She did come back into the living room after a while and sat at the far end of the couch again.
"Foot rub?"I asked her.
"Sure." She said.
I put one foot up for her to rub and the other I rested on her lap.
"Oh, for you?" She said jokingly.
She settled back into the couch, picking my foot up off her lap and began to knead the bottom of it. I set my other foot down. It rested in the valley created by my mother sitting with her legs together. After a few minutes her legs relaxed and fell apart slightly, dropping my foot to the couch. I adjusted my body quite obviously, moving around a lot, finally settling in with my foot pushed against her crotch.
She then let go of my one foot picked up the other and began to rub again. The free foot fell between her legs halfway up her thigh. I ever so slowly, ever so lightly, rubbed my foot back and forth along the inside of my mum's thigh. I moved my foot up her leg slightly and kept rubbing back and forth. She didn't seem bothered.
She was done with the one foot, set it right next to the other, up higher between her legs and then picked up the other foot and got back to massaging. I decided to continue the slow, light rub with my foot, ever nearing her pelvis. I yawned and stretched out pushing my foot up against her crotch again. I continued the, now even more slight, rubbing back and forth with my foot. I became bolder with the occasional twitch of the toe.
She was now finished with that foot. She set it back down next to the other and started to rub the other foot. This time she didn't pick up my foot. Mum merely held it in place whilst rubbing my heel. I didn't cease the movements of my foot. If anything I embellished the writhing in my foot as she massaged. As she kneaded my foot with her fingers I kneaded her pussy with my toes. When she rubbed up and down my foot, my foot ground up and down her sex. I could feel how hot and wet my mum was, nearly fucking herself with my foot.
The pace of her breathing increased. I could hear her heart pounding out of her chest. Finally, excitement got the better of her. My mum had tried to stifle herself and become still. But a short loud pant escaped her lips as her whole body twitched, causing her clit to brush up along my foot. That touch seemed to send a jolt through her as she convulsed, again dragging her clit up and down the side of my foot, lightly panting.
Reflexively she rolled her hips back. With her back against the couch her pelvis was pressed hard on my foot. I looked up at my mother. Her eyes were clenched tight and her lips slightly parted. A long low moan left her lips, a lot louder than I am sure she intended, as she ground her clit hard into me. She tried her best to stay still, her breathing quickly becoming rapid again, the taboo and excitement was too much.
Her body betrayed her as my mum humped me quickly a couple times. I watched her stifled shuddering as she began to quiver, riding atop my foot. The look on her face was one of pure pleasure and total guilt. She could no longer quiet her panting, shaky little breaths at first and then bigger gasps for breath as my mother came down from her semi-discrete orgasm.
My mum looked as beautiful and satisfied as I've ever seen her. I'm sure I'll make her feel that way again soon.