Boring ....I thought.....
Even the couple of evenings with Debby were no longer all that intriguing. She was still somewhat interesting but had been "infected" with the mindless concerns and prattle of her girl friends. And she still had a "body" but no where near as voluptuous or tempting..or forbidden...or... as ...available ... as...
And the guys only talked what they "would" do or "bragged" about their petty exploits. First base, third base, even the home runs seemed contrived.
And the other girls, were ....engaging...and not. None were as fully developed as .... or ready to try ...stuff. Or if they were, I simply had to beg off because I didn't want to be in the long line of their "prior" experiences.
I could always go home "on time" or "early" and get almost the best delight of the evening.
Mom always waited up, and though I often went home in frustration from a "date," I always wanted to make sure she could go to bed ... without worrying about me.
And the reward was always waiting, even if I couldn't bend it..her...to my will. Fantasizing about my mom was still my most active, imaginative and enjoyable pastime.
I'd about given up on the "mind control" crap, but couldn't stop the day to day, and night "visions" especially when she was "helping" them.
She was hot and didn't even know it. Every move she made was sensuous and, to me, begging for my attention or reaction.
One night, as I took a turn at the clean up after dinner, she came up behind me and began massaging my shoulders as I so often did hers. As usual, she thanked me for pitching in, and mentioned how tired she was from her day at the office on her feet. I of course offered to return her favor of the shoulder rub with a foot massage when the dishes were done. But she deferred, saying something about "not wanting me to touch her smelly feet that had been running around all day..." But before I could protest and proffer again, she went on to say, "I remember when you used to do this (the back rub) in my bed...remember when you were little and used to sit on my backside to rub my back....?" And I could vaguely remember times when I would be on my knees, straddling her bottom on the bed, and try to help her relax with a back massage.
My cock started to harden at the thought of sliding up and down the separation between the half moons of her butt cheeks, with my balls resting just outside her pussy, wondering if I would ever have that opportunity again.
And then I felt her soft breasts press against my shoulder blades as she teased the hair on my neck with her fingers, kissed me on the cheek and said she was going to take a shower.
I finished cleaning up as I heard the shower and let pictures of her naked, pelted by the water stream, dance in my head. I turned on the TV and crashed on the couch to watch some late night talk and talent show.
Mom came out in her nightgown and robe and joined me on the couch. She plumped the pillows in one corner and, primly tucking her night clothes around her legs, swung her feet up into my lap.
"I decided to take you up on your offer" she said. I grinned and said, "sure" and began to rub her ankles and feet. But then I paused and said, "I think you deserve something special tonight."
I lifted her feet out of my lap and got up, heading for the bathroom. I was more than a little titillated with the quick sight of her thighs and panties as her knees bent and opened slightly when I shifted her feet. I found her body lotion and returned to the couch, hurrying to get seated before my hardening cock became obvious. As I sat and shifted myself and pulled her feet back into my lap, I asked, "a little lotion for the lady?" She sighed, seemed to snuggle a bit deeper in the couch and said, "oh, that would be wonderful..."
We giggled and laughed at the monologue and jokes on TV as I began massaging her instep and toes, flexing each in turn to loosen them up, sliding cream slickened fingers in between. I rubbed each foot in turn, only a little anxious when I allowed the closest one to lean against my now fully upright cock. I spent an inordinate amount of time on her ankles and feet, rotating them slightly, rubbing away all the aches around her heels and arches, soothing the bottoms without meaning to tickle her. I did, at one point, run a fingernail lightly up the inside of her instep, getting the reaction I wanted, as the tickle caused her leg to lift when she jerked her foot away, laughing that I "shouldn't torture" her.
Little did she know that my "torture" was just beginning. Alternating between her feet, and gently swivelling her ankles had helped open her legs a little, shifting her gown so that it slid away a little, bunching more in her lap, revealing a little more of her thighs.
The memory of her words"...and...like I said, quite a bit of patience..." rang in my mind, causing me to be even more deliberate in my attentions to her massage. Slowly, without rushing, lingering on her ankles, I began rubbing lotion on her shins and lower calves. My reward was a slight distant wink from her panties. Laboriously, I thoroughly kneaded the muscles just above her ankles and waited as the distance between her knees grew ever so imperceptibly wider.
I was now only half listening to the talk show as it droned on, making light conversation that grew quieter and quieter. Mom had by now shifted a little, lying back with her eyes closed, resting though not asleep.
At first, I could only use my peripheral vision to enjoy the developing view next to me. I was afraid to look directly at her, lest she catch my glances at her legs and suspect more was showing than she intended.
More than once, in her reverie, she whispered, "oh ...that feels so good...thank you baby..." or "...your hands are wonderful..." and "you have the perfect touch..."
At one point, she turned and leaned over to take a sip of her drink on the coffee table, generating multiple reactions in me. Although it was one smooth fluid and all to quick an effort, in my mind, in slow motion I watched her thighs open slightly as she repositioned to reach for the glass, seeing in turn, the spreading of her lovely thighs, a developing full view of her panty covered muff, noticing clearly the wisps of her lush pubic hair highlighted within the confines of the silky fabric and peeping around the sides, as her pussy lips, clearly defined for the moment, seemed to blow me a kiss from behind the veil, and then her full round bottom when the gown opened underneath as she rolled to her side. And the whole time, feeling her foot in my lap moving, as her heel turned and snuggled more tightly against my stiff cock, and rubbed it first up then down as she stretched for the glass. And then an all too quick repeat, in reverse, as she replaced the glass and settled back into the couch, modestly making sure her gown covered her lap.
By now, my hands had moved almost to her knees in their ministrations, and I'd shifted a little closer so her calves were more in my lap. The slight bend in her knees was again giving me a clear view under her gown, though her thighs were again closed, but not tightly.
I glanced at her again, to be sure her eyes were still closed, but could not tell if she had fallen asleep.
At that point, I decided not to push my luck. I put a little more lotion in my palms and gently massaged her knees, going only slightly above, and then all the way back down to her feet. Sliding my hands slowly back up I slowly massaged the inner muscles of her legs, feeling them hesitantly open to make room as my kneading fingers began again to circle around her knees.
I paused, knowing that I was getting to a dangerous stage, courting disaster. I slowly ran my hands around her legs, just above her knees. I wanted so much to slide my hand up along her thighs and draw even nearer to her honey pot. But I was beginning to tremble and knew that was the sign that my excitement might cause me to go to far.
As the debate raged in my mind, common sense saying quit now, passion urging me on, the TV show ended, and she stirred, sitting up, putting her hands on mine, still just above her knees but not yet under her gown.
She leaned forward and whispered, "Honey, you have the most amazing hands...I could let you go on...all night...I love the way you touch me....but we have to stop ... and go to bed..."
She put her arms around me and hugged me, kissing my cheek, then resting her head on my shoulder. In response, I let my hands slide up around her waist and hugged her in return, pulling her into my lap.
She was a little surprised by the move, letting out a startled noise as her perfect bottom settled against me and I pulled her closer, feeling her breasts against my arms and chest. "Mom, I love touching you and could do it all night, ...if you wanted..."
She sighed and hugged me close again, murmuring, "I have to go to work in the morning... and your touch ...is so relaxing, but I'll never get to sleep if we don't save some of it...for later...."
Disappointed, yet relieved, I mumbled okay. I turned my head slightly to kiss her cheek, and felt her shift ever so slightly, to hug me more tightly, so that her breasts were like wonderful, firm pillows pressed against me, while her hip ground against my raging hardon, and her bottom rubbed between my thighs. But instead of a son's kiss on her cheek, she turned a little more and I found myself kissing her lips, startling us both....
Warm, soft, her lips, the kiss was exquisite. She sat back a little, in my lap, stroking the side of my face, and looked deeply into my eyes. I couldn't help but fall into the depths of her eyes, as I smoothed her hair and brushed it back over her shoulder. Then, I felt her fingertip trace across my lips, and she leaned close to my ear to whisper "...you're turning into a very... dangerous... young man..." Lost in the fragrance of her hair, thoroughly confused, I was stunned as she slowly stroked my face again and then pulled me down to kiss ..again... her lips ...lingering in the touch as our lips opened slightly at the touch.
And then in one fluid movement, she was up and her perfect figure was drifting away, down the hall to her bedroom. I sat there in shock as the heat of her bottom left my raging hardon throbbing unfulfilled.
|Another great story by Anonymous.|
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