Mom's Errant Panties

"AGGHHHHHHHH!" came another muffled scream from the other side of the pillow, she seemed to be trying to crawl inside, face first.

When she swung the pillow out to her side, revealing the scarlet shade now dominating her face, she stared at the ceiling with a crooked smirk, saying, "Okay. So, you know Wendy?"

I thought she was asking the question rhetorically, so I waited for her to continue.

"Riiiight, yes, I know Wendy," I said after a beat, humoring her obvious attempt to stall.

She breathed out slowly and then continued. "Well, Wendy kind of came on to me after we smoked the first half of that joint."

"Came on to you? Like tried to kiss you?" I asked, befuddled, and definitely intrigued.

"I can't believe I'm telling you this. Uhhhhh, okay, wasn't just a kiss," she said, one eyebrow going higher than the other. "We'd taken a break from dancing, and we were kind of chilling towards the back, and I mentioned smelling weed. The smell is always just part of the club ambiance, but I was making conversation. I said it brought back memories and she asked if I wanted to smoke a little. My boozy brain said, yes, of course, and the next thing I know, she's pulling me into a vacant VIP room and sparking up a doobie she'd had in her purse."

"They let people smoke in the club?" I asked.

"I wouldn't say they leeeet people smoke. I think they just turn a blind eye when you've paid for a VIP room. We didn't pay, we just kind of slipped in and shut the door, but we're both female so it's kind of a gray area."

I almost stopped her to have her elaborate on the gray area, but the anecdote involving an attractive woman who'd come onto my very attractive mother was far more important. I kept my mouth shut and nodded, trying to look as agreeable as possible.

"I was drunk when we went in, five minutes later I was stoned and drunk, and then Wendy starts giving me this little lap dance. It was kind of funny and I was sort of into it but then her hands were suddenly up my dress and she's pulling my panties down."

Mom looked over at me then, I assume, to see if I appeared judgmental. I guess I passed because she resumed the story, but with a lot more eye-contact, making the passively curious expression I was attempting, much more difficult to pull off.

"I was so discombobulated that I was kind of letting it happen, even lifting my butt so she could get them off easier," she explained.

Mom then demonstrated what that would have looked like as she was talking, lifting her ass off the bed and hooking her thumbs into the waistline of her panties, pushing them down a quarter inch before letting the elastic snap back into place and dropping her butt with an embarrassed giggle.

I tried to offer a polite chuckle in solidarity, something to show I was paying attention to her silly anecdote about a silly friend pulling her silly panties down, but I was on the verge of busting in my silly pants, so I've no idea how well I managed it.

"He heh... That Wendy..." I said, trying to swallow the lump in my throat and hide the one that had just been resurrected in my pants.

Mom continued to titter, saying, "Ugh, this is so embarrassing. So, then a bouncer is suddenly there, and I think he's going to kick us out, but he doesn't. He closes the door behind him and starts undoing his belt, instead."

I was starting to understand the gray area she'd mentioned before.

"Wendy actually starts kissing the man and I lost it. I grabbed my purse and left the room, the club and the entire parking lot, sans drawers."

She rolled her head in my direction and watched me. Her face was kind of scrunched up and her teeth were clenched as she analyzed my face, looking more than apprehensive as her focus shifted back and forth between my eyes.

"Hence the Uber and the naked ass," I managed to reply with some difficulty.

She mouthed the word, 'Sorry'. Then, audibly, asked, "Forgive me?"

It was weird how much she was asking me to forgive her when I felt like I had so much to apologize for.

I shook my head, trying to clear it so I could think. "I'm not sure why you're apologizing to me. I'm actually kind of relieved."

"Relieved? Why?" she asked, looking suddenly dangerous.

"I'm just glad that's all it was. My imagination kind of ran away with me, trying to create plausible scenarios that resulted in you coming home from the club without underwear. Some of the possibilities were much less flattering, and yeah... I'm relieved that it was just your horned-up friend trying to experiment with you," I said, hanging finger quotes around the word.

"Wait, what did you think?"

"Oh, just stupid, unlikely scenarios," I said dismissively.

"No. Tell me. Why did you think I wasn't wearing underwear?"

I wasn't sure how honest to be right then. I didn't want to offend her, but she'd been honest with me so far as I could tell, so I said, "The idea that you were going commando so that some dirty dancing could take place, crossed my mind. I didn't think you would do that, but you've been a little weird about any hookup questions and I thought maybe if the reason you were being evasive was because you were feeling guilty about something... it would kind of explain why you didn't want me asking."

"You thought I was going without underwear so I could... what? Bang dudes on the

dance floor?" she asked, her mouth hanging open in what I interpreted as feigned shock.

Her indignant gasp was the only part of the expression that felt genuine. I took comfort in the fact that her eyes still seemed to be smiling.

"I didn't know what to think and that was one unlikely possibility. I guess I wasn't very creative in coming up with alternatives..."

"What you must think of your mother," she said, bringing a hand up to her mouth and gnawing pensively at the back of her hand.

"I don't think that... er, I didn't want to think. I guess I was trying to understand why you were being so evasive with me, even a bit angry. Guilty conscience seemed to tick a few boxes, but you're right, I shouldn't have even thought it. You've never given me a reason to think you'd behave that way. I just worry about you," I replied.

She eyed me suspiciously for a moment, looking like she was trying to decide how angry to be. Her expressions subtly changed several times before she spoke again. "Well, I don't feel guilty... at least not about that. Besides, I couldn't just bang a guy, let alone a bunch of--" she started to say, but then she looked down and stopped talking suddenly.

I tried to force some eye contact, moving my head down to where she was looking, but she rolled away from me in response, her back now to me as she lay on her side looking at the opposite wall.

I felt the mood change in the room.

"Couldn't? Why? What do you mean?" I asked, feeling confused as I tried not to trace the outline of her body as the T-shirt fell around her, conforming to her curves.

I followed the gentle slope from her narrow waist as it angled up to become her hip and booty, tightly wrapped in white satin.

She switched her nervous nibbling from the back of her hand to a fake fingernail that was coming off. I let a couple moments of silence pass, assuming she was considering how best to answer the question.

At some point, she looked back, and I believe she intended to explain what she'd started saying before, but I didn't register her head swivel towards me, and she busted me.

I was completely, unmistakably, caught eye-fucking her ass.

I think my jaw might have even been a bit slack with unabashed awe. She had to wiggle her butt just to get me to snap out of it and notice that she was looking right at me.

"What do you mean when you say: You couldn't even if you wanted to?" I repeated, as I forced my gaze down, suddenly unable to meet her eye.

"I'm sorry, Greg. I should not have let you see me that way last night," she said, sighing as she turned her head back towards the other side of the room.

I was already annoyed with myself, but her comment bugged me quite a bit. I didn't like the implication that it was somehow her responsibility to guard me from seeing things that might compromise my self-control.

I mean, she might have had a small point. I was struggling with my feelings for her in the wake of the ass reveal, but I had been controlling it... with some difficulty, sure, but even her bedroom panty party hadn't sent me into a lust-filled frenzy. She was the one being flirty and frustratingly cute, and she still hadn't pulled her shirt down to cover her ass even after catching me all but drooling over it.

"I'm glad you did," I heard myself say.

The moment the words came out, I felt an intense, jarring shock surge through my chest, neck, and ears, giving me an awful chill that actually made me shiver.

Mom didn't move or speak, and the room started to feel very small.

I tried to recover from the verbal skid as every muscle in my body tensed at once, but I ended up overcorrecting into oncoming traffic, suddenly spouting everything I was thinking without filter.

"I--just. I mean, I really like how... You're just hot, Mom. I'm sorry. I know that's weird to hear and I didn't expect it, but you're just a stunningly beautiful woman and it drives me nuts that you're single. Any man would be lucky... And I know it's weird. And I know you're my mother. And I shouldn't be saying it. And I know it's probably related to how weird and creepy I am. I just... really like the way you look. You're just--your body is perfect and so sexy--your shape... so, so perfect. I mean my god, Mom! Fuck! Sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't say that. I know I'm weird and creepy and should stop talking and leave."

I did stop talking then. I never wanted to speak again, in fact, it was so crushingly embarrassing.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I replayed all the nonsensical, repetitive shit I'd just spouted at my mother like an insane person.

The suffocating side effect of burning all the atmosphere from the room with ideas that should have never been vocalized in such a setting, had me feeling like I couldn't catch my breath.

An inexplicable ringing hit my ear and time seemed to stop as I stared down at my hand where it pressed into the comforter.

I wasn't sure if getting up and walking out was the right move but even with the sudden, compelling desire to remove myself from the situation, I couldn't make myself get up right then.

Then, I realized Mom was sobbing and I wanted to fucking die.

"Fuck... I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm such an asshole," I sighed, moving to stand up and leave.

"I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you, Greg," she said, startling me with a voice that was very soft and full of sadness.

I wasn't even sure she'd intended for me to hear it; it had been so quiet.

I stopped myself from standing and turned back to look at her, saying, "What? Of course, you would be. You're one of the strongest people I know. You would have pulled it together just to show people you could. You're that stubborn."

She reached a hand back without looking, moved it around in circles, feeling the air for a moment before finding me and gripping a handful of my T-shirt, saying, "I love that--that," she sucked in sobs of air between her words, "that--you think I'm--I'm hawww-t!"

"You do?" I asked, feeling like someone had just dropped a needle onto a vinyl record.

She used my shirt for leverage, stretching it towards her as she pulled herself back my way, rolling over so she was now on her right side, facing me.

She nodded with her eyes closed, frowning and taking in a long, staggered breath for the crying she was doing.

"Why do you look mad, then?" I asked.

"I'm not-- not mad at you, dummy. I'm flattered and I'm ann--noyed with myself. I don't deserve you. You deserve a real mother instead of the selfish woman y--your dad left you to look after."

"Mom..." I said, not sure what I intended to follow it with.

She put her arms up, saying, "Just muh--me're."

I hesitated, furrowing my brow as I considered what was happening.

"Please?" she asked with her arms still stretched up towards me. She opened her eyes a little, but they were full of tears, and she had to blink several times to see.

Her big brown (slightly red at the moment) eyes were clearly happy even if her mouth wasn't, and I leaned down to give her the hug she was waiting for.

She immediately pulled at my neck, hoisting herself up to my chest and I sat up with her as she wiggled herself onto my lap, my hands finding their way between her shoulder blades and to the small of her back.

Our eyes met briefly once we were face-to-face. I could feel her breath on my lips, the ashy scent of smoke hitting my nostrils as she studied my expression, her eyes slowly shifting back and forth between mine as she seemed to contemplate a lifetime's worth of variables.

Her arms wrapped around me, and I returned the hug, feeling her tearful, staggered intakes of breath as I tried to memorize everything about her shape, smell and texture, the feel of her weight against my thigh and the tickle of lose strands of hair against my neck as I held her to me.

She pulled herself closer to me, smashing her breasts into my chest, and I closed my eyes as her lips moved within inches of mine, then brushed my cheek, my chin, and then I felt her breath on my neck as her head went to my shoulder.

Her face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, and I breathed her in, feeling a rush as my senses were flooded with exhilarating sensory input, saturating me with how she felt, smelled and sounded.

I wanted to freeze time and hold her against me like that for as long as she'd allow it.

Whatever thing I was, this amalgamation of thoughts and feelings and the resulting consciousness riding inside a mass of human cells, I suddenly understood that I'd been incomplete. I was half of what I could be, and holding this beautiful creature in my arms, feeling her proximity, I understood for the first time what it could feel like to be made whole. This was what all the songs were about. This was what made men and women abandon reason for sentiment. It was the closest thing to real magic I'd ever experienced.

As I passively considered the strange sequence of events that had led me to that magical moment, I couldn't make sense of it.

I thought I'd just alienated myself to her for life, possibly eternity. She was supposed to be creeped out and chastising me for my misguided, perverted crush. I wasn't sure why it had gone in a completely different direction than I'd been expecting, but I was beyond elated that it had.

Mom pulled an arm back from our tight embrace, reaching behind herself to grab my wrist, pulling my hand from where it had been wrapped around her ribs, nearly touching her right breast.

For a moment, I thought she was just moving the hand to a more platonic location, but she kept drawing it further

and further down the small of her back, my trailing fingers tracing a path through the little canyon her spine sat in between two long, lean muscles.

She adjusted herself in my lap, her perfect little satin-wrapped ass shifting until it was pooching out slightly, which had the side effect of positioning her lady parts against my thigh. I could feel the skin under my shorts warming up under her weight.

She continued to guide my hand down until it was resting against the tight satin stretching over her right ass cheek. Then, she caressed the back of my hand with her fingertips, clearly indicating that I should do something I couldn't make myself do.

"It's okay," she whispered softly into my ear, her delicate lips tickling my skin, "I caught you looking at it earlier in the kitchen, and then I felt how much you liked it when I hugged you."

She had noticed. Of course, she had. I suddenly realized how silly I had been to think she might not have felt the stiff erection that had poked her and slid between us as she'd wiggled her body against mine, obviously aware, and I realized with no small measure of excitement, that she'd been intentionally feeling it with her body.

"Sweetie," she whispered into my ear, her sexy voice warm and tantalizingly naughty, "I worked really hard at the gym, and I love you so much for noticing. Please, I want to feel that look you had in your eye. Show me with your hand. Show me what you were thinking about in the kitchen and just now. It made me feel so sexy to see you look at me that way. Show me."

My hand didn't seem to care if the rest of me was numb, it began caressing and squeezing her ripe little booty without waiting for any further confirmation.

"Oh fuck! There it is," she sighed, sounding almost relieved, like I'd scratched an itch she'd been unable to reach.

Her nose nuzzled into my neck, and I felt her lips pooch out slightly to kiss me behind the ear as I groped more and more aggressively, finding the edges and exploring everything within reach.

My fingers began to press the soft satin of her panties into the valley between her two tight pillows and she pushed her ass out further, inviting me to explore and touch everything.

I couldn't believe what was happening. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it like a bass line.

"Is that what you were thinking about? Touching me like this?" she asked as my hand adored her perfect little body.

"More," was all I could get out. My breathing had become intense, and it was making it a chore to talk.

"Oh my god, what else did you want to do to it, baby? Tell me!"

I wanted to do everything up to and including wearing her ass like a hat, but I was suddenly unable to talk.

"Oh my God, baby, I can feel your pulse. Fuck, you like it a lot, don't you baby!"

"It's the sexiest--oh fuck--thing I've ever seen, and it somehow feels even better than I imagined it would," I managed to say as her arms tightened around me and her tongue licked my neck.

I was about to tell her how hard it was making me, but she already knew.

My cock pushed into her thigh near the hand I was using to rub and squeeze. She wiggled her butt towards it, leaning to that side and forcing her hip to press down on it several times, her breath coming faster against my neck, chilling it where she'd left saliva. She began to squirm like a snake in my arms.

I felt moisture on my thigh, and realized with cock-stiffening excitement, it was her moisture soaking through her panties, through my shorts, and through my underwear as she began to rock her hips forward and back, rubbing herself on the muscle in my thigh.

She began dropping her hand from my neck, pawing at my skin like a cat as she felt my chest with her palm and then her fingertips. She traced a slow path down to my stomach and then her soft touch fell onto the top of my bulge.

There was a half-second caress of my tip as she positioned the swollen mushroom in between thumb and forefinger and squeezed.

Two quick breaths escaped her lips, and I felt her shiver in my arms.

Then, it all came to a screeching, sudden halt.

"Okay! Sorry, sorry, sorry. Fuck... Too far. I shouldn't have--" she said, suddenly pulling away and sliding quickly to the opposite side of the bed where she sat facing the wall.

Her back was to me so I couldn't see but I heard her forcing slow deliberate breaths that almost sounded like she was practicing Lamaze.

I felt like I needed to say something, but I wasn't even sure what had happened.

It shouldn't have happened, that seemed to be the vibe in the room, but she'd instigated and terminated it, so I waited for her to collect herself, wanting to know what she was thinking and why she was toying with me.

She'd had every right to tell me how gross I was being, and to kick me out of her sight, but she'd instead decided to treat me like a yo-yo. Even if it hadn't been a calculated move. Even if she'd simply given into the moment. I felt like I deserved some kind of explanation.