Out For DinnerbyBookkeeperLover©
I stepped through the door and watched her walk down the hall, her naked hips swaying in time with her long legs. I stood there a moment longer savoring the view of my mother's gorgeous body, then headed for the shower. I spent the next half hour or so getting myself clean and ready for what appeared to be our first "date". Sure, we'd been out together many times, in all kinds of situtations. I felt very comfortable being seen with my mother, anytime. She was that kind of woman: classy, intelligent, beautiful. Who wouldn't want to be with her? I knew full well that I was still envied by my male friends, probably by most other men for that matter. I'm sure she'd been hit on many times in her life but I knew she would never give any of them a second thought. I still had trouble accepting the idea that she wanted a romantic, sexual relationship with me - with me, her very own son! God, I loved her.
I passed by her bedroom door, wrapped in a towel.
She called to me, "Hon, Sweetheart, come in for a minute please?" I stepped into her room. She was wrapped in her dressing gown, standing near the bureau, her lingerie drawer open. "Hon, tonight we're going out for dinner, just you and me. I want this to be very special for both of us. I know it will be for me, but I want you to be happy to be seen with me, to be proud of me. I know how it is with most boys your age. They'd rather die than be seen with their mums..."
I cut her off. "Mom, there's no way I could ever feel embarrassed around you. Look at you! You're the most beautiful woman in this town. Everybody knows it Mom! I've never felt like I didn't want to be with you. I'm very proud of you Mom, I really am!" I stepped up to her and wrapped her in my arms, squeezing her tightly. I felt her shoulders begin to shudder. I pulled back and looked at her. She was crying. "Mom...?"
"Oh, Sweetheart, I love you so much. You make me feel so special. Look at me! You've turned me into a blubbering baby. It's a good thing I haven't done my makeup yet!" She wiped the tears from her eyes. I bent down and kissed her cheek, tasting the salty tears. She shook herself, clearing her head and pulling herself back together. "Phew! Ok...Hon, this is why I asked you in here: I want you to pick out what I'm going to wear tonight. I want to be dressed exactly as you want me to be. Will you do that please...for me?"
Oh...my...god. I thought I had truly died and gone to Heaven. This gorgeous, curvacious, long-legged, sexy, forty-something woman wanted me to play dress-up with her as though she was some kind of life-size living doll. This just kept getting better and better. I nodded. "It's all here ready for us Sweetheart: dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes, even (she blushed lightly) my bras, panties and stockings." She lifted a few items out of the drawer then dropped them back. "It's all your's Hon. What do you want me to wear?"
I felt my cock start to rise at the thought of having her wear whatever I wanted her to. I tightened the towel around my waist but the mound forming in front was difficult to hide. Taking a deep breath, I moved over to the bureau and started rummaging through her things. I came across several brassieres, white ones mostly but then I found the one she wore that first time we made love. It was black, the cups were covered in a soft lace. It was an underwired, push-up style. I thought maybe... Then I found it. Hidden under the rest was a bra I'd never seen before. It was white, underwired just like the black one but instead of a heavy lace fabric, this one was made of a thin, see-through silk. This was it. She had to wear this one. I held it up and showed it to her.
Her eyes widened. She gulped. "Oh, my!" she yelped. "I forgot about that one. Your father surprised me with that one on Valentine's Day a few years ago. It's very...revealing." I grinned and held it out to her. "Well...ok Hon, if that's the one you want then that's the one I'll wear. I only hope the restaurant is dark." She giggled and took it from my hands.
I turned back to the bureau and looked for the next item. Hmm...not there! I pulled open another drawer. Ah, yes, there we go. I pulled out a white satin sheath, one of her girdles. I knew it wouldn't be an insult to ask her to wear it. As far as I knew, virtually every woman wore one back in those days. It just made her curves all the more noticeable. She nodded and took it from my hands.
At the other end of that drawer was a small stack of thin boxes. I'd seen them many times in the stores, row upon row of them. Silk stockings. I lifted the lid of the top box. The smooth, shimmering beige fabric was carefully wrapped in tissue paper. I handed the box to her. She took it from me then nodded down at my waist. "This is fun for you, isn't it!" She looked up at me and smiled. I looked down. My towel was tented out over my almost-hard erection. I turned away and cleared my throat. Even now I was still feeling a little shy in front of her. She laughed gently. "don't worry Hon, I'm very flattered. You're quite the man, my Love." I looked back at her. She nodded toward the bulge forming in my towel. "I promise you this Sweetheart. We're going to take care of THAT before this night is over." I was speechless.
"Ok...so...now...um...now a dress, yes?" I squeeked, trying to sound calm, trying to mask the tightness in my voice.
"Well, ah...Hon? Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked.
She blushed again. "Panties, Love. You haven't given me any panties to wear."
It was my turn to blush. "Yes...umm...I was kind of hoping you might like the idea of not wearing any. Are you ok with that? Would you? I keep thinking of you sitting across from me at the restaurant, knowing that you don't have any on."
She turned crimson red and smiled shyly. "My goodness Hon, you're turning me into a little sexpot tonight aren't you!" She wriggled as she sat on the bed. "That's fine Hon, if that's what you want, I'll do it. It will feel quite...delicious actually, knowing that you know..."
That made me stop and think. My mother dressed as a "little sexpot" conjured up all sorts of images. It was a fine line I was walking here, a fine line between sexy and trashy. I couldn't do that to her. She had too much class. "Mom, if you are feeling uncomfortable about any of this just say so, ok? Don't wear anything you don't want to."
"Hon, I'm fine. Look - this is all very new for me too. I've never gone without a bra before but look at what I did today! I'm finding all of this very exciting Sweetheart. Scary too, but exciting. It makes me feel - I don't know - free. So choose away Hon - whatever you want. Just remember that we're going out in public tonight. We don't want to start too many tongues wagging. It would be hard to explain to your father."
I nodded then stepped into her closet. I felt as though I was surrounded by her, her clothes, her fragrances. I drew my hand across the row of dresses, lifting one or two out to remind myself of what they were like. I stopped at a favourite of hers - and mine. It was by a French designer, very chic. She always looked like a million dollars in it. It was a cocktail dress, white with black polka-dots, button-front with a low scooped neckline. I picked a pair of black high-heeled pumps from the rack and held the dress and shoes up for her to see. She grinned and nodded.
"My favourite! You remembered!"
"It's my favourite too Mom. I love this dress on you."
She stood up and took it from me then rose up on her toes and kissed my forehead. "Thanks Sweetheart. You're making me feel very special tonight. Now, off you go and get yourself ready. I won't be too long. Can you call Joe and have him send a cab around for us by seven?" I nodded. "Thanks Sweetheart. Off you go now, and no peeking!" She looked down at the tent in my towel again. "If we're not careful, we'll never make our reservation." She winked, then closed her bedroom door behind me.
I spent the next hour getting dressed, calling the cab and generally pacing back and forth, imagining my mother upstairs in her bedroom, the clothes she was putting on, thinking of us together soon at the restaurant. I was getting impatient. I wanted it all, right now.
I heard the taxi pull up at the front of the house. I opened the door, called up to my mother and then pulled out a light coat from the hall closet for her. I turned around to the sound of her heels on the hallway floor, then stopped dead and stared. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was pulled up into a French roll. She wore a simple strand of pearls to match the curve of her neckline. Her makeup accented her large dark eyes and high cheeks. Her full lips were a bright red and her teeth sparkled as she smiled broadly at me.
"Well? Do you approve? Are you still willing to be seen with the old girl tonight?" She twirled around in front of me, making the dress flare out.
"Mom, you look fabulous! Of course I want to go out with you!" I held her coat out for her. She stepped into the light of the open door. It was then that I noticed. I stared down at her chest. The fabric of her dress was smooth and silky as it followed the curves of her full bust, except for two small but very definite nubs. I remembered the brassiere I'd chosen for her. They weren't immediately obvious to anyone, but her nipples were definitely showing through, two slightly darker circles showing through the thin fabric of her dress. It was almost as though she wasn't wearing a bra at all. She followed my gaze, then looked back up at me.
"They're not too obvious are they Hon?" She had a worried look.
"No Mom, they're not. Besides, it will be dark at the restaurant. If you're ok with it, I most definitely am. You'll be the best work of art I've ever seen in a restaurant." I hoped my smile wasn't a leer.
I helped her on with her coat and we walked arm in arm to the waiting cab. I opened the door and watched her climb in. The silk of her stockings flashed in the light. I caught a whiff of her perfume. I slid in beside her and gave the driver the address. As we pulled out onto the street, she squeezed my hand and wriggled like an excited little girl. "This is going to be lovely, I just know it!" she said.
As we drove down the street she nestled her shoulder against me and then placed my hand on her leg, covering it with her own. My spine tingled as I felt her firm thigh. I stroked it lightly, feeling her dress slide smoothly up her leg. She lifted her hand and let me move mine further up and down her leg. She glanced at the driver to make sure he couldn't see. I took her dress between my fingers and slid it up over her knee. I reached down, took hold of the fabric again and slid it up further until her thigh was exposed. I felt her lean in against me and quietly sigh. The dark band of her stocking top was beginning to show. I went to pull her dress up higher but she stopped me, nodded toward the driver and shook her head. She placed my hand on her silk-covered thigh and then covered it with her dress. Her skin was hot against my palm.
For the next fifteen minutes we rode in the back of the cab, pressed tightly together, with me running my hand up and down her thigh, my cock swelling more and more with each stroke. A couple of times I slid my fingers down between her legs, aiming for that treasured spot I knew was waiting, uncovered and accessible. Each time she tightened her knees together and blocked me, shaking her head. Each time I would sigh and make an exagerated pout. I wanted her. God, how I wanted her.
We straightened up and became very much "mother and son" as we pulled up in front of the restaurant. The carhop opened the door as I handed some cash to the cabbie. I stepped out onto the curb and turned to help my mother out of the car. Her coat fell open as she slid out. The neckline of her dress fell forward, offering a generous view of her cleavage. She stretched a foot out. Her leg was long and gracefully curved, shimmering in the lights of the restaurant's marquis. I took her hand and helped her to her feet. Looking up, I noticed that she had won the full attention of the carhop. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he was staring at her, ogling her breasts and legs. Even the cabbie was giving her the eye. I felt the old mixed feelings: annoyed at some guy checking her out, yet proud that she could turn heads so easily.
We left her coat with the hat-check girl and were ushered to our table. I could almost sense a hush fall over the room as we entered. It seemed as though every eye, at least every male eye, was fixed on my mother. I think she sensed it too. She turned to me and squeezed my arm, whispering in my ear. "Everyone's looking! Do you think they can see?"
"No Mom, I don't think so. I think they're noticing that a very beautiful woman has just walked in." She smiled and squeezed my hand.
We sat opposite each other, tucked away in a dark, intimate corner. The table was set with candles, crystal and silver, a white linen tablecloth hanging to the floor. For the next hour we chatted just like every other couple in the room, sipping our cocktails, ordering dinner, enjoying the wine and the piano playing softly in the background. I could feel myself relaxing more and more as the alcohol made its way through my veins. I noticed my mother getting a little giggly, laughing at my weak jokes and inane stories.
Several courses came and went. We sat, looking lovingly at each other, finishing the bottle of wine she'd ordered. I was feeling light-headed. Suddenly I felt her foot move up my leg. I shifted a little and glanced around the room. She had slipped her shoe off and was pressing her toes between my legs. Our eyes met. She smiled a devilish grin and slid down into her chair slightly, reaching her foot higher up between my legs until her heel was pressed against my crotch. I looked around the restaurant. I felt pretty sure no one was paying any attention to us now. The tablecloth hid our legs from view. I opened my knees and shivered as she rubbed my quickly rising cock with her foot. She curled her toes and manipulated me, basically trying to jerk me off with her foot. The sensation was electric. I slumped down and offered my pulsing erection to her. She kept stroking me, massaging me. She kept staring into my eyes, that little grin on her lips.
I was surprised by how quickly it happened. I guess the wine, the fact we were in public, the earlier experience of choosing her clothes, the scene in the taxi... Well, I came right there and then. She felt it too. She rubbed me harder and faster, prolonging my orgasm. I closed my eyes, shuddered and breathed hard. Having to control myself and not let on to what was happening made the orgasm very intense, almost painful. I felt the hot semen spread through my boxers. Thank god I was wearing a jacket! When I calmed down and opened my eyes again, she was still staring at me, her mouth twisted into a lop-sided grin. She winked at me.
This was the most amazing woman I'd ever known. Beautiful, sexy, adventurous - and mine. The experience of sitting across the table from my own mother as she massaged my stiff cock with her stockinged foot, in the openness of this restaurant: I wanted her, plain and simple. I wanted us to leave, rush back home, strip our clothes off and make love all night.
She had other plans.
I felt her foot slide down to the floor and hook behind my leg. She pulled it over to her side of the table. She reached down and slipped my loafer off. I felt her tug my sock down. Then she brought my bare foot up and rested it between her legs. As she looked around the room, I felt her gather up the bottom of her dress, sliding it up her legs until I could feel her stockings against my skin. She slouched down slightly, spread her legs widely and waited. I knew what was expected of me. Careful not to draw attention, I began to explore between her legs with my bare foot. I felt the soft mat of hair, the heavy bulge between her thighs, the moist lips. I felt the heat pouring from her body. She took hold of my ankle and began stroking herself with me. I watched her face, fascinated by her changing expressions, her mouth opening and closing, eyes fluttering.
She slid forward on her chair and pressed my foot deeper between her legs until I felt her lips spread open around my toes. She shuddered. I pushed gently, slipped up into her. Her eyes opened wide. She stared at me, silent, a look of urgent need on her face. She began to make tiny rocking motions with her hips. I looked down at her breasts. Her nipples were hard, pushing out against the thin fabric covering them. Now they were obvious - very obvious. Even in the dim light of the room, anyone could see those large nubs.
A busboy walked by, carrying a tray. He glanced down at my mother and immediatlely slowed his pace. He kept his eyes glued to her breasts, trying to see down her dress as he walked by. I guess she'd caught his attention as well.
She was flowing now. I could feel the wetness on my toes. She leaned forward onto the table and tilted her hips down, pressing her vagina onto my foot. Her movements became more pronounced. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her bottom lip. Her face was flushed. I sensed the enormous pressure building up inside her. If we had been alone, I have no doubt her body movements by now would be fast, hard...and loud.
She went rigid and squeezed her thighs tightly together, trapping my foot inside her. I sensed contractions in her belly. Suddenly she gripped the edge of the table and gasped loudly. Remembering where she was, she opened her eyes widely and looked around the room. Several nearby tables had turned to look in our direction. Immediately she brought her napkin to her mouth and feigned a coughing fit, her cheeks turning red, her forehead glistening.
Instantly the maitre d' was at our tableside, a concerned look on his face. "Is Madame well? May we be of help?"
"No, no...everything is quite fine thank you. I - I must have had a sip of wine go the wrong way. I'm fine, thank you again." She turned to me as he walked away and widened her eyes at me. I shook my head and smiled at her. "Well...(ahem!)...would you order coffee for us Hon? I - I need to visit the powder room for a moment." I watched her glide gracefully across the room and disappear into a hallway. So did half of the other men in the room. Oh god! I forgot to warn her about the dress, about how much she was showing through. Too late for that now. I hoped she might have "calmed down" by time she returned.
I ordered coffee and waited. Again I watched as she crossed the room to our table. Uh-oh. From halfway across the room it became obvious her nipples were still engorged, standing out stiff and long, creating remarkably large points on her breasts. As she sat down I leaned forward and whispered to her. "Mom, your nipples! I could see them halfway across the room!"
"Don't I know it! My god Hon, there's nothing I can do about it!" Her face flushed crimson again.
A moment later our waiter was at our side, serving our coffees. He continually stole glances at my mother's breasts, nipples still erect. I could imagine the whispered conversations going on in the kitchen. There were two snifters of brandy on the tray. He placed them beside our coffee cups.
"I'm sorry, there must be a mistake. We didn't order these," I said.
"Yes, sir. These are compliments of the gentlemen at the table across the room." He motioned toward a table of three men in business suits, out-of-towners. We turned to look. All three smiled and raised their glasses to us. We did the same, nodding our heads toward them.
My mother turned back to me. "Do you think...do you think they saw us, they knew what we were doing...?"
"I don't know Mom. I don't think so. It might just be you've caught their attention. After all, you are the most beautiful woman in the room, you know. Or, (I glanced down at her breasts) it might have been the, um, 'state' you were in when you walked by them."