A Massage for Mom's Headache Pt. 02

Jasperspen ©

This story is set in a small town in the UK and written in UK English.

All people depicted in this story are fictitious and over the age of 18.

********

PART 2

I think in our different ways, both Mom and I were somewhat shocked by what had happened this morning. A simple attempt at easing Mom's headache with a neck massage, had somehow spiralled into my first ever sex, and more unexpectedly, with my mom.

I admit though, that since having that sudden insight during my 18th birthday party, that had changed how I saw her from being just 'mom', into realising what an incredibly attractive and sexy woman she was, I had deliberately contrived to have more contact with her through tighter 'hugs', and watched for any inadvertent display of underwear or bare skin. Some of those surreptitious touches and opportunist sights, had fed my masturbatory fantasies for many nights.

The opportunity to massage her neck the first time, that almost turned into touching her breasts, I had thought would be a one off, and on her part was a temporary mental aberration, and as far as I would ever get. It never occurred to me that later she would let us go as far as full penetrative sex and let me come inside her; that's what shocked me, but also elated me. I hoped she didn't regret it or let it change our day-to-day relationship.

It became obvious from what she had said that she felt Dad didn't give her much attention these days. Why that was I didn't know. Having now seen her naked, I was at a loss to see why Dad no longer seemed to appreciate her in that way.

I didn't see much of her during the rest of the day as she went shopping, met a couple of her friends, and stayed out for lunch. I therefore had most of the day on my own, mainly reliving the events of the morning, while rubbing my cock almost raw and trying to believe they were true and not a dream or figment of my fertile imagination.

When she came home, carrying a few bags from various clothes shops, she greeted me as she normally did, and there was no mention or hint of what had happened earlier. I was sort of relieved and wondered if that was how she wanted to play it, as if it had never occurred.

Dinner was normal, the usual chat about what each other had been doing, no strange looks or comments from Mom, I was beginning to wonder if I had dreamt it all.

In the following days, everything seemed as it normally did; I continued to hug and pay attention to her and she responded as she usually did, but no further hint or odd look passed between us. I really did think that it was a once in a lifetime event (assuming it really was real) and that was that.

************************************************************

The following Saturday, a week later, we were having dinner in the early evening as usual.

"You have remembered that I have that golf competition tomorrow," Dad said, towards the end of the meal.

Mom looked at him as if she had misunderstood, "What, on a Sunday? Tomorrow?"

"Yes, it's the only time we could all get together," he replied, nonchalantly.

"But you were out playing all day today too," she said, the annoyance starting to show in her voice.

"I know but that was just practice, tomorrow is the real game."

"You don't seem to have any time for us these days, with your blessed golf friends," she said, her voice rising.

"Oh, don't go on so, it's relaxation for me after the stress of my job," he replied, not realising my mom's mounting anger.

"What about my stress," she countered, "we all have different stresses to cope with."

I looked from one to the other and knew this was going to be just another argument, so quietly I made my excuses, stood up and left the room. I don't think either of them noticed.

I went upstairs to my room, the raised voices continuing downstairs. I sat at my computer, put on my headphones, and immersed myself in the latest game I had bought. I couldn't hear them anymore, just as normal.

I lost track of time, but did notice that the light was fading outside, so I guess I had been playing for about two hours. I jumped when something touched my shoulder and I spun round to see Mom standing there.

"Sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to startle you or intrude, but I tried knocking and you obviously couldn't hear me," I heard her say, a bit muffled.

She pointed at her ears then my headphones.

"Ah, yes, sorry," I said removing them, "I was a bit involved."

"I could see," she smiled.

"The reason I came up to see you is that your dad has decided he needed an early night as he has to get up early tomorrow for his so called 'big match'," she grimaced, and let out a heavy breath. "Anyway, I thought about making some toffee popcorn and watching a film of some sort on the TV, but it's not much fun on my own, I... err wondered if you wanted to join me."

"Toffee popcorn," I said, "that sounds good, but what's the catch, are you going to watch a soppy film with crying and stuff?" I asked.

"No, no catch," she laughed, "we can choose something we both like."

Wow, did she look attractive when she laughed. All her face lit up and her green eyes sparkled. I saw she was wearing a knee-length, dark blue, loose skirt with bare legs and white button-up blouse with the top two buttons undone. I couldn't remember if she had been wearing that for dinner, as I had been trying not to draw attention to myself by looking too interested.

"Yes, ok, that would be great," I said, glad that she was acting normally around me. "I'll just use the bathroom and change into something more suitable."

"Suitable?" she said, raising an eyebrow, but with a tiny smile.

"Ummm yea, you know for sitting comfortable for a couple of hours." I added.

"Oh yes, ok, well come down when you are ready, I'll sort out the popcorn."

I watched her bottom move under her skirt as she left the room. I don't think the swing of it was exaggerated for me, but it still looked sexy.

Fifteen minutes later, I had sorted myself out, changed into some fairly respectable sleep-shorts and a long T shirt. I sometimes did this late in the evening, so it wasn't an unusual thing to do, but it was more comfortable than a shirt and jeans to lounge about in. I went downstairs to find Mom coming out of the kitchen with a tray that had on it a big bowl of delicious looking popcorn coated in brown toffee, a tall glass of red wine and a bottle of beer.

I followed her into the living room where she indicated I should close the door.

"We don't want to disturb your dad with the TV, although after the three large glasses of whisky he had before he went up, I doubt he'll stir unless a shotgun goes off," she giggled, "now there's a thought," the last part said under her breath. "Right, let's see what we have on offer on the film channels," she said, clicking the remote control. "Oh, I thought you might like a beer rather than wine, so I got you one, is that ok?"

"Yes, fine thanks," I said, noting she had already opened it for me.

We settled on a film that neither of us had seen, a compromise of a bit of action and an interwoven love story that didn't sound too soppy. Mom dimmed the lights to a soft glow, and we sat at each end of the wide sofa, facing the very large-screen TV -- I said Dad earned a good wage, the bowl of popcorn and drinks on the low table in front of us. We didn't bother with the blanket on the back of the sofa, that we use sometimes, as it didn't feel that cool.

The film was about some attractive (of course) undercover female police officers, who were trying to infiltrate a criminal element, but one of them was getting too involved with one of the male gang members. They spent a lot of time in tight skirts, showing a lot of leg, pretending to be just dumb girls, which made for interesting watching, for me anyway.

We slowly chomped our way through the popcorn and sipped at our drinks while we watched.

"There's not much to that skirt," I commented jokingly, when one of them walked along with her skirt barely covering her essentials.

"Oh, I used to wear skirts like that when I was a lot younger," Mom said.

"Really?

"Yes," she giggled, "your nan and granddad were quite strict with me, but I used to hide my more daring clothes at a friend's house and change there before hitting the town with her."

"Well, you learn something every day," I said turning to smile at her.

"Oh, we got up to all sorts of tricks," she reminisced, "sometimes we would just roll the waistband of our skirts to make them shorter, rather than change into other clothes."

"How did that work?" I asked, slightly puzzled.

"You just roll it up."

"How though? Can you show me?"

"What now?"

"Yea, go on, I can pause the film."

"No, I would feel a bit silly, I had good legs then."

"I think you have good legs now," I blurted out without thinking.

"I think you like flattering me," she said, and even in the dim light, I thought I could see her blushing.

"No, please, show me how you used to do it," I pleaded, pausing the TV with the remote.

"Hmm, I wish I'd never mentioned it now... but well... oh alright, as it's just the two of us here, but no laughing," she said, putting down the almost empty wine glass and standing up.

She took hold of the waistband of her skirt and proceeded to somehow roll and tuck it in at her waist. "So, you just keep doing this until the bottom of the skirt is at the height you want," she commentated. "Normally you would make sure it's a thin material, so it wouldn't be too bulky around the waist."

She continued to roll it, showing more and more of her still very shapely, toned, legs.

"Do it to where you used to," I said, "I can't believe you were that daring then." I grinned.

She looked over at me, paused, then rolled it up a bit more. Now the hem was higher than mid thigh and I was thinking how sexy she looked already.

I was disappointed when she said, "This skirt is a bit too thick to do much more."

"Wow, I am sure you used to get lots of attention from all the boys dressed like that."

"I think the shortest I ever had it was about...."

She pinched the material with her hands at the side of each leg, and slowly hitched it up further, until the hem was now only a couple of inches below the point when she would expose her underwear. I could see the curve of her thighs as they started to taper towards where they would meet the rest of her body.

"...there," she said, looking across at me.

I didn't know what to say. Her legs looked stunning. The dark skirt, now like an ultra-mini skirt, contrasted with them, and showed them off so sexily. My cock thought so too as it was now semi-erect.

I think I must have been staring too much.

"You are going to catch flies in there if you keep your mouth open like that," she said, playfully, dropping her skirt back to mid thigh, "I think you have seen enough. I'll just get a refill and be back in a tick." She left for the kitchen; her skirt still rolled up at her waist.

I took the opportunity to re-adjust my partial erection, so that it wasn't obvious.

When she came back with her wine and another beer for me, she had also put her skirt back to how it should be, and it was now just above her knees.

She sat back down, kicked off her open-backed slippers, and curled her legs up so that they were facing me on the sofa, her feet within a few inches of my legs.

"Thank you," I said.

"What, for the beer or the show," she grinned.

"Both I guess," I grinned back, then pushed 'play' to continue the film.

My mind sort of drifted after that, and I wasn't really concentrating on the film, thinking more about those long legs not far from me.

About another five minutes into the film, I let my hand drop down to the sofa cushion and not very subtly put it on her bare foot.

"Oh, that's a nice warm hand on my cold foot," she said, without taking her attention from the TV.

I gripped her foot gently and she moved the other one alongside it, touching the back of my hand.

I stroked her foot slowly, feeling the soft skin on both the top and the sole. Unlike mine, which had hard skin underneath, hers were soft all over. I assumed she must use some sort of lotion regularly to keep them that soft. I progressed to sliding my fingers in-between her toes. She didn't seem ticklish, but I felt her toes curl a bit and realised that they were very flexible, and she could move them individually. I hadn't inherited that gene, mine all moved together.

I hadn't thought much about feet, but it was another revelation to me that it was quite sexy to be touching her there. Not wanting to leave the other one out, I swapped over and was met with no resistance, in fact I think judging by how she moved her toes, she was enjoying it.

I separated her toes with my fingers, then slid them out and massaged the sole of her foot with my thumb. I moved along her foot, feeling the fine bones of her surprisingly slim ankle.

"Mmmmm, no one's ever done that before, it's quite soothing," she said, glancing over at me.

"I thought you might be ticklish."

"No, it feels relaxing rather than tickling."

I thought that the relaxing bit might have something to do with the wine too, as she was way down her second big glass.

"Your ankles and legs are just as good as theirs," I ventured, as one of the slim girls in the film walked across the screen in ridiculously high heels.

"Yea, sure, in this dim light," she quipped back.

"No, seriously," I said, running my hand up her calf as far as her knee and back. "The skin is soft, but I can feel how toned they are from the exercise you do."

"Well thank you, I am surprised you even noticed." She was either definitely blushing now, or the wine was making her a bit flushed.

Oh no! Along with my still semi-hard cock, the voice of internal lust had woken up, 'why not see if she will let you stroke them some more,' it began.

No, I shouldn't, not after what happened last time. I loved her for it, she is so sexy, and I would like to do more, but I am only glad everything is surprisingly 'normal' between us. She has never hinted or breathed another word about it, maybe it's best left there.

'Why do you think she asked you here tonight?' it asked, putting thoughts into my head.

I was sure she was just a bit fed up with Dad and wanted some company, nothing more.

'Don't sit there and wonder, try it, she likes to feel you stroking her feet, she would probably like her legs stroked too,' it said in my head.

I had done, just now, briefly, and she hadn't objected, I wondered if she would make sure that nothing more happened and not encourage me. I could try I though, it's only the lower part of her legs, she might appreciate it after being on them all day.

'Yes, that's right, you will never know unless you find out,' it encouraged me, wickedly.

Slowly, and sensitive to any negative indications from my mom, while I continued to focus on the TV, I slid my hand up her calf again as far as her knee, giving it a gentle massage. I did see my mom's eyes flick quickly over to me and then back to the TV, but nothing more.

Emboldened by the lack of resistance, I did the same with the other one, but it was awkward the way she was sitting with her legs curled up.

"That's a warm hand on my leg now," she said, without looking at me.

"Sorry..." I began.

"No, I meant it's nice, soothing even," she said quietly.

'See, she wants you to do it, she likes it, get her to put her legs across your lap.'

No, that's too much. She won't. I bet she wouldn't let me do that. She knows now not to let anything go too far, I thought. Yet, my cock was hardening at the thought and the argument going on in my head, it just made the voice louder.

'She might accidentally touch your cock with her feet, that would feel good wouldn't it,' it added to the pressure.

I casually continued my ministrations on her lower legs and feet, caressing her toes, and running my hand up to her knee, and back to her foot, feeling her toes curl up when I ran my nails along the sole. I hoped that it appeared I was doing it absentmindedly as we watched TV, but in reality, it was an intimate feeling, and much of my attention was focused on the sensations of her skin on my hands and fingers, rather than on the film.

After about five minutes or so, I noticed that she had moved her legs slightly so that I had better access to both of them.

'You have noticed then, she wants you to do both of them,' it said, mischievously, 'why not see now if she will put them on your lap,'

I did wonder if she might, we had been very intimate before, to put it mildly, but I had got the impression from the way she had behaved since, that it was one time only and nothing more was going to happen.

'Still, you never know,' it taunted.

I could just try I suppose, if she doesn't want to, she just won't let me and then I'll know, I reasoned.

As I was caressing her toes and foot the next time, I gently pulled it towards me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her gaze flick across at me again for a moment or two, then go back to the TV. I felt her leg go slightly limp and then amazingly, I was drawing her foot towards me with no resistance on her part. Taking it as consent, I carefully took hold of her other foot too and pulled them onto my lap. She adjusted her position a little so that she was lying on her side facing the TV, her head on the far cushion.

I looked sideways quickly and saw that with her movement, her skirt had ridden up her thighs somewhat, and there was now a long length of those bare sexy legs showing.

"It's gone a bit cool don't you think," she said, "can you drape that blanket over us now please."

With a bit of fumbling, I did as she said and she pulled it up to her waist, with her arm resting on the outside, while I laid it over her legs and my lap, covering them up.

"Mmmm, that's better," she murmured, and went back to looking at the TV.

I now had her feet firmly in my lap, one on top of the other, as she was now on her side, and I was able to not only stroke her feet, but a fair way up both legs easily. The only problem was that my cock was now fully erect inside my loose sleep-shorts and only about an inch away from her feet.

'Go on, let her feet touch it.'

No, I thought, she will pull them back and she is letting me stroke her feet and legs, it's quite sensuous for me, if that's all she'll allow then I don't want to stir up any awkwardness.

'Just her toes then, briefly,' it persisted.

No, I shouldn't. I thought, running my finger up her leg, and feeling her rub them against one another.

'Accidentally then, just a touch, she might not even notice, but it will feel good for you, won't it.'

Could I, perhaps.

I knew I was probably taking bad advice, but as I played with her toes, I gradually moved both feet towards me a fraction at a time, feeling the warmth from them approaching my hard cock.

Contact.

Her toes that had been curling and uncurling with the attention of my fingers, stopped moving as they felt my hardness against them. I pressed them gently toward me so that they were in full contact with my hard dick. I held my breath as I tried to see how Mom was reacting, without being too obvious, but I didn't see her facial expression change.

What did change was that after a few moments, her toes tentatively began to explore my hardness. They moved slowly up and down, her flexible toes touching, moving, and kneading, the hard flesh. It felt like multiple fingers prodding and stroking the whole length. I let out my breath with a quiet sigh as I ran my hands up her legs to just beyond her knee and back.

She kept this up for a while, her toes more flexible than I could imagine, gently gripping the head through my shorts and pulling down along the whole length. I was seeping pre-cum already and I was sure she could make me come like that if she kept it up long enough.