Dad's Bowling Night with Mom

"Mom!" I said scornfully. "That's really personal! That's between Doris and me. And it's not something I want to discuss with my mother."

Mom watched me finish cleaning the last pan, rinse it and hand it to her. "How about I tell you a very juicy family secret and then you tell me what you and Doris did?"

"Mom! What Doris and I did is between us."

"Well, she doesn't think so. She's been telling the kids at school about what the two of you did."

She had. I thought while I dried my hands and when I was done, I said, "Okay."

"Aunt Agnes had a reputation when she was in high school," said Mom with a smirk. "When she was dating your father, she let him unbutton her blouse and take it off her. She then removed her bra and let him suck on her breasts." Mom added gleefully, "And they weren't even dating seriously!"

"Aunt Agnes!" Aunt Agnes came across as very prim and proper; the type of woman who would not let any man touch her before her wedding night. She regularly made disparaging remarks about girls nowadays letting boys have too much fun.

"Oh, yes. I can't tell you how many times I've had to bite my tongue around her." Mom chuckled. She was obviously enjoying taking her older sister down a notch or two.

"I can't...Golly!...Aunt Agnes."

"She was plain in high school. I think she felt it was the only way she could get boys to pay attention to her. And she really wanted boys to pay attention to her."

I shook my head. "Doris and I did nothing like that. I took her parking once or twice a week. We kissed a lot in the back of your car. She never gave me any sign that she wanted to do more than kiss. After we had dated for a few months, I put my hand on her breast while we were kissing. She pushed my hand away from her without saying anything. I took that as a firm no. I waited for a sign that she wanted me to do it again, but she never gave it to me, so I never tried again."

"Why don't you tell your friends that?"

"Because it sounds so weak and fake." I changed my tone to lower and somewhat goofy. "Oh, I made a move on her. I squeezed her breast once." I shook my head. "I was trying to be a good boyfriend. I wasn't going to keep squeezing her breasts if she didn't want me to."

Mom nodded her head. "That's a good attitude to take. But there was obviously a lot of miscommunication between you and Doris." Mom looked at the clock. "Time for my show."

* * * *

Next Tuesday when I got home, Mom said, "There's a letter for you on the dining table."

When I got close to the dining table, I could see the letter was from Ohio State University. It was either an acceptance letter or a rejection letter. If it was a rejection letter, then I'd certainly be rejected by Northwestern. I picked it up and started opening it. Mom was only a few feet away from me and watched me closely as I pulled the letter out of the envelope. I quickly read the boilerplate message. "I've been accepted."

"That's so wonderful!" Mom gave me a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Jack."

"Thanks, Mom." I felt a bit woozy. It was one thing to talk about leaving my hometown to go off to a top college, it was another thing to hold an acceptance letter in my hand. I would go, either to Ohio State or Northwestern. I'd leave this town behind. It didn't matter if my classmates thought I was a fairy. I'd soon have new friends, more academic friends, who'd see me for the person I was.

Mom said, "I think Ohio State rejected Joan. Of course, your Aunt Agnes would never admit that. But I'm sure she pushed Joan to follow in her brother's footsteps, and Joan didn't make the cut." Mom smiled hugely. I had given her a victory over her detested sister. Being accepted to Northwestern would be an even bigger victory.

When Dad got home, I told him I had been accepted to Ohio State. "I'm proud of you, son," he told me as he warmly pumped my hand. Our dinner conversation was Mom and Dad telling me how proud they were of me and who they were going to tell when. My chest kept puffing up. I had never felt so good about myself.

As Dad headed toward the door to go bowling, he said, "Everyone in the bowling alley will know by the end of the night that you've been accepted to Ohio State."

After dinner, I started running the water in the sink without Mom asking me to do the dishes. I was in a happy mood and didn't feel like giving Mom a hard time for wanting me to do what I knew I was going to do.

As I washed, Mom said, "I've been thinking about you and Doris. There was a lot of miscommunication between you two. Has your father talked with you about how to act with girls?"

I snorted. "No. The only thing he's said to me about Anna and Doris is that he thought they were pretty."

Mom nodded. "I thought as much. I guess it's up to me then."

Mom was going to tell me what about girls? This was something I never considered happening.

"The first thing you need to understand about girls, or at least girls in this town, is that they are very concerned about their reputation. They don't want to be known for being easy. As few leave this town, any reputation they get could stick with them for the rest of their life. I have friends who still occasionally snicker about Aunt Agnes' reputation in high school."

"That makes sense. That's why I didn't push things with Doris."

"No. What you did with Doris was wrong. Doris probably felt she had to reject your first advance for the good of her reputation. But she didn't want you to stop. She had a different stop line in mind besides you touching her breast, something well beyond you touching her breast. But you never came close to doing what she wanted you to do. So she became frustrated with your lack of aggression and eventually questioned whether you were interested in her at all."

This made no sense to me. "Hold it." I felt the strong urge to rub my forehead with my hand, but my hands were wet and soapy. "How was I supposed to know it was okay to do more than touch Doris' breast when she stopped me the only time I touched her breast and then didn't say anything about it?"

"Finish washing the dishes, and we'll discuss this more."

I continued washing dishes in a state of confusion. I tried to think of what I could have done differently with Doris and came up with nothing. Why did we have to wait until after I finished washing the dishes to discuss this more?

Mom had been slow to dry and had quite a few dishes in the rinse water when I finished the last pot. As I dried my hands, Mom asked, "Why did you go for Doris' breast instead of her bottom?"

My eyes went wide. "I don't know." Should I have gone for her bottom instead? "When we were kissing, her breasts were right there in front of me. I wanted to touch them. I felt we had dated long enough for me to be able to feel her breasts."

"Her bottom would have probably been a better thing to have touched first. Bottoms get sat on and are leaned against things. Breasts are seldom touched, so a boy touching them has a bigger impact."

"Okay. I'll take your word for that."

"Regardless, when you first touched Doris' bottom or breast, you should have expected her to tell you no. Even if she wanted you to touch her, keeping her good reputation would require her to say no."

Mom continued drying the dishes and putting them away as I thought over what she said. Finally, I said, "I make a move on Doris and she tells me no. What should I have done next?"

"You should have given her an apology that was really a cover for complimenting her. Let's pretend I'm Doris. Put your hand on my bottom and give it a squeeze."

"What?"

Mom said slowly, "Put your hand on my bottom and give it a squeeze."

"Mom!" I couldn't believe she had said that.

"Come on. It's not that big of a deal. Your father is probably squeezing Patty Harney's bottom right now. Go ahead and squeeze mine. It's an important lesson for you to learn."

I was used to being a dutiful son, so I did what my mother told me to do. I reached over and gave Mom's bottom a squeeze while she dried a dish. Mom immediately reached down and pushed my hand away.

I stood next to the sink with no idea of what to do next. This was pretty close to what had actually happened with Doris and me.

Mom said, "Now tell me you're sorry but you couldn't resist squeezing my bottom because of how nice it is."

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist squeezing your bottom because of how nice it is."

Mom rolled her eyes. "Come on! You're trying to seduce a girl. Lay it on thick about how beautiful she is and how wonderful she is. Swell her ego. Don't lie or make ridiculous statements, but say true things that make her feel beautiful and very special to you."

"Okay." I looked at my mom's bottom. I hadn't given it much of a look before. It was my mom's bottom and that was something you didn't look at. But I gave it a good, long look and tried to think of nice things I could say about it. "I'm sorry, Doris. You have such a wonderful bottom. So full and round. That skirt really shows off your narrow waist and your marvelous bottom. I couldn't resist touching it." It was a struggle to begin, but the words seem to flow after I started.

"That was very good. Another thing you did wrong with Doris is that you didn't build up to touching her breast. You should have been touching safe spots and then gradually moving to the inappropriate place. Go back to the end of what you said. When you say, 'That skirt shows off your narrow waist', rub my waist in the back with your hand. Then when you say, 'and your marvelous bottom', drop your hand down to my bottom again."

I felt myself breathing hard as I moved close to Mom. I couldn't believe this was happening, but, at the same time, it seemed very normal. I said, "It shows off your narrow waist" as I reached out and rubbed Mom's lower back gently. After a few rubs, I said, "And your marvelous bottom," as I dropped my hand down to Mom's bottom and began rubbing it.

Mom pushed my hand away. "Jack. We shouldn't."

I was stupefied. Mom had told me to rub her bottom, but when I did, she pushed my hand away. I wanted to touch my mom's bottom again, but I had no idea how to other than reaching out and squeezing it.

Mom said, "This is where you assure the girl that you'll never tell anyone what you are doing. Let her know her reputation is safe even if she lets you touch her bottom. And if you've waited until the right time to make your move, she probably does want you to touch her bottom. Now reassure me in your words." Mom took my hand and moved it to the top of her hip. "Always maintain contact with your hand and always keep it moving."

I rubbed the top of Mom's hip while saying, "No one will know, Doris. This will be our secret." I slid my hand over to a little above Mom's bottom and rubbed in a circle. "I'm crazy about you, Doris. Seeing you in that skirt all evening has been driving me wild." I dropped my hand down and rubbed Mom's bottom. It felt wonderful to me. It was soft and firm at the same time. Mom's bottom did have a marvelous shape, jutting back just the right amount. "I'll never tell anyone about this."

Mom stood straight up facing the sink with her eyes closed for a few moments, allowing my hand to roam freely over her bottom. I gave it a little squeeze and went back to rubbing. I was in heaven.

And then Mom turned and pushed my hand away. "You're getting it now. Let's start again at the beginning and have you go all the way through it again."

As Mom dried the last dish, I reached out and squeezed her bottom. She pushed my hand away. I went through the lines she had taught just like before. But this time, I didn't say, "Doris". I didn't say any name. But in my heart, this time I was asking Mom to let me feel her bottom, to run my hand over it and squeeze it. I was promising Mom to never tell anyone that she let me feel her bottom.

When I told Mom again, "I'll never tell anyone about this," she moved my hand away from her.

"It's almost time for my show," she said as she put away the last pot. As she walked out of the kitchen, she winked at me and said, "I told you I'd do something nice for you."

* * * *

The next day at school, I told each of my teachers before class that I had been accepted to Ohio State. Each was quite proud of me. None of my classmates seemed impressed by the news. I was still the too-smart-for-his-own-good fairy.

When I got home that afternoon, I spread my homework on the dining table as always. Mom was vacuuming, and I couldn't help checking out her bottom as she did so. I had never paid attention to it before, but now I couldn't stop paying attention to it. As usual, Mom was wearing a loose sweater that revealed little about her figure above the waist. But her pink cotton skirt hugged her bottom very nicely. Mom did have a narrow waist and a full bottom. As she vacuumed, she regularly bent forward while facing away from me, tightening her skirt on her bottom. The view was delightful. I had seen many movies with beautiful actresses, but none of them put on a show as thrilling to me as the one Mom was giving me.

That night, I stroked my dick while thinking about Mom's bottom. How it had felt in my hand. Its shape and feel. I wanted to feel it again but had no idea how.

The rest of the week was much like that - secretly checking out Mom's bottom in the afternoons and evenings, stroking my dick while thinking about it at night. Saturday, Mom got all dressed up to go out to a party with Dad. Instead of her usual sweater and skirt, she put on a dress. For the first time, I really checked my mom out. She had a large chest, completing an excellent hourglass figure. She wore her dark brown hair short, like all the other women in town did. She had thick dark eyebrows over her light brown eyes. She was wearing blue eye shade and had done something to thicken her lashes. She wore bright red lipstick, which made her lips look very kissable. She wore a pearl necklace, which gave her a certain elegance. Mom's dress came down below her knees, and I could see some nylons below it. My dad was a lucky man to have married a woman so beautiful. Would he get lucky tonight? I had no way to know - I was going to be staying at Grandma and Grandpa's.

By Tuesday, I had a plan put together to get Mom to let me touch her bottom again. It wasn't much of a plan, and I'd have to play things by ear. But I felt it was far more likely to succeed than my attempt to touch Doris' breasts.

Mom and I started washing dishes after dinner as we had been doing. As I was washing the glasses, I said, "When Doris and I went parking, what we did was kiss. That's what I thought you did when you went parking with a girl. But from what you said last week, I should have been moving my hand over her body as we kissed."

"Oh yes, your hands should be moving. Kissing alone gets boring. Have it moving from below her bust down to her waist, the side of her hips, and then to the front of her hips. No place inappropriate, but lots of places. And as you are moving your hand, see how she responds. Does she slow down in kissing you? Does she speed up? Does she make a sound? And occasionally ask her if she likes how you are touching her. Pay attention to how she moves her body. You want to follow her hints. You want her to feel in control. Being in a car alone with a boy is scary for a girl. What if the boy decides to take her by physically overpowering her? I know several girls that that happened to. All of us were fearful of that. You want to assure her that you are paying attention to her wants. You want her to signal she wants her bottom or her breast touched before you touch it. When you touched Doris' breast, it was probably a surprise, and surprising her made her unreceptive to it."

"Thanks, Mom. That's really great information."

"You and your wife should be virgins on your wedding night, but you can have lots of fun together before then."

"Like the fun Aunt Agnes had with her dates."

Mom laughed. "You shouldn't expect to have that much fun with a girl unless you are engaged or almost engaged."

"Why do you wear dresses on Saturday night and sweaters the rest of the week? I think you look much nicer in a dress."

Mom shrugged. "I think I look better in a dress. I like dressing up for your father. But I feel more comfortable in a sweater and wear them when I'm not dressing up for him."

"I think you looked great Saturday night." Now, for the big risk. This could put Mom in the right mood or it could ruin everything. "When Dad drinks too much at the bowling alley, he squeezes the bottom of his waitress. He also drinks a lot every Friday with his coworkers after work. Does he squeeze the bottom of the waitresses there?"

Mom hissed like I had stepped on her toe. After a while, she said, "I've heard reports that he squeezes the bottom of the waitresses there."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"You have nothing to feel sorry about."

I let that hang for a while by focusing on washing dishes. When I started the pots, I said, "When I was with Doris, my attitude was that I deserved to be able to touch her breasts because I had been her boyfriend for so long. If I understand you, that was the wrong attitude. Really, the wrong way of looking at things. What my attitude should have been was to have as much harmless fun with her as she'd permit, make her feel that I felt she was special and wonderful, and then, following her hints, steadily expand the harmless fun we did while reassuring her that it would all be our secret."

"That's a good way of putting it. And it's very important that you do keep it a secret. If you were to tell on Doris, why would your next girl not think you'd tell on her?"

I started on the last pot. Things were going well. "I'm not a talker or a bragger. It's natural for me to keep secrets." I put the last pot into the rinse water. When Mom bent forward to take it out of the rinse water, I put my hand on her bottom and began rubbing lightly. "I'll never tell anyone what we did last week."

Mom moved my hand away. "Jack, I'm your mother."

I brought my hand back to her bottom and squeezed. "You're my mother who has a marvelous bottom that I loved feeling. I felt it last week. What's the harm in my feeling it again this week?"

Mom pushed my hand away again. "It's not right, Jack. Last week was a one-time lesson."

I eluded Mom's hand and cupped Mom's bottom again. "It's not right for Dad to squeeze the bottom of waitresses twice a week. Why not let your son squeeze your bottom? Keep giving him lessons on how to have harmless fun with a woman?" Mom didn't immediately push my hand this time. "You enjoy this, don't you? You like having your bottom squeezed. That's why you had me do it last week."

Mom put her hands on the counter in front of the sink. She seemed indecisive as I continued to explore her bottom. I squeezed a cheek, rubbed her bottom in a circle, and then squeezed the other cheek. I knew now to keep moving, to keep doing different things.

Mom finally said, "We shouldn't do this. It's not what a mother and son should do."

"We'll only do it on Tuesdays after dishes and before your show. That's once a week, compared to Dad squeezing waitresses' bottoms twice a week."

Mom kept her hands on the counter. From the way she was breathing and the way she held her head, she was enjoying the feelings my hand was giving her. She wasn't resisting my hand, but she wasn't encouraging it either. She seemed on the fence.

"I don't know, Jack..."

"No one will ever know, Mom. It'll just be some harmless fun we have together."

Mom let out a long breath. "Only on Tuesdays and only between the end of washing dishes and the start of my show."

"Absolutely," I said as I squeezed her bottom even harder. "And I'll finish rinsing and putting away the dishes if need be."