Chapter 01.1
The pencil now traced the outline of Mom's breasts more accurately, and lovingly. I was surprised that Mom didn't jump up immediately and walk away but that would draw attention to herself and perhaps require an explanation for the way her breasts jostled loosely under her sweater. When I realized that, I knew that Mom was stuck. I slowed the pencil down and lightened its touch, teaching it to caress rather than probe, to titillate instead of poke.
Mom's pencil returned to the crossword and mine lovingly traced every curve, every nook and every cranny of her breasts. It favored the left breast because of its proximity but found every part of the right as well. When Mom completed the last entry, I had been teasing her nipples for several minutes and they proudly marked their places beneath the white turtleneck. Mom's hand dropped to her lap, pencil held loosely between her fingers. She sat, listlessly, while I languidly traced the eraser around her nipples. Her eyes closed.
Dad's snore made both of us jump. We stared at him, realizing that we had both dangerously forgotten about his presence. I looked at Mom and she, for the first time, looked steadily back at me. I dropped the pencil and enveloped her left tit in my hand, gently squeezing until my finger and thumb found the outskirts of her nipple, pinched and rolled it, then tugged it off Mom's chest, forcing Mom's mouth open in a silent cry.
I lowered my head as Dad's snoring resumed its rolling lilt. Mom shook her head, her eyes saying 'No' but I ignored both and brought my lips to hers. She let me kiss her but refused to part her lips for my probing tongue. I pulled back and tried to pull Mom's sweater up but it remained tightly tucked in her slacks; it must have been one of those things that wrapped around and snapped under her panties. I grasped her tit again and rolled the nipple between my fingers, tugging it up and letting it fall half a dozen times, like a little kid with his newest toy. I moved my mouth toward Mom again but she turned her face away so I redirected my head and latched onto her extended nipple, sucking it in with a mouthful of sweater. Surprised, Mom groaned quietly. I sucked, and sucked, and sucked, until Mom's hands pried my head away. She pushed me aside and got up. She was passing in front of Dad, loose and jostling tits be damned, when he awoke with a start.
"I'm going to bed," Mom snapped in response to his querying look as she rushed by.
Mom's pencil returned to the crossword and mine lovingly traced every curve, every nook and every cranny of her breasts. It favored the left breast because of its proximity but found every part of the right as well. When Mom completed the last entry, I had been teasing her nipples for several minutes and they proudly marked their places beneath the white turtleneck. Mom's hand dropped to her lap, pencil held loosely between her fingers. She sat, listlessly, while I languidly traced the eraser around her nipples. Her eyes closed.
Dad's snore made both of us jump. We stared at him, realizing that we had both dangerously forgotten about his presence. I looked at Mom and she, for the first time, looked steadily back at me. I dropped the pencil and enveloped her left tit in my hand, gently squeezing until my finger and thumb found the outskirts of her nipple, pinched and rolled it, then tugged it off Mom's chest, forcing Mom's mouth open in a silent cry.
I lowered my head as Dad's snoring resumed its rolling lilt. Mom shook her head, her eyes saying 'No' but I ignored both and brought my lips to hers. She let me kiss her but refused to part her lips for my probing tongue. I pulled back and tried to pull Mom's sweater up but it remained tightly tucked in her slacks; it must have been one of those things that wrapped around and snapped under her panties. I grasped her tit again and rolled the nipple between my fingers, tugging it up and letting it fall half a dozen times, like a little kid with his newest toy. I moved my mouth toward Mom again but she turned her face away so I redirected my head and latched onto her extended nipple, sucking it in with a mouthful of sweater. Surprised, Mom groaned quietly. I sucked, and sucked, and sucked, until Mom's hands pried my head away. She pushed me aside and got up. She was passing in front of Dad, loose and jostling tits be damned, when he awoke with a start.
"I'm going to bed," Mom snapped in response to his querying look as she rushed by.
****
Mom worked the next day and I wasn't able to be alone with her until Dad went to wash his hands before supper. As soon as he left, Mom accosted me.
"That was a stupid thing you did last night with your father right there," she said, eyes flashing her anger. "I know your sister's been showing off her breasts and you want more, to touch them, but I won't have it, any of it!" She paused to take a dep breath, then continued in a softer tone, I'll let you touch mine instead, but don't you ever do anything stupid like that in front of your father again, understand?"
"Yes, Mom. I won't," I responded immediately, suitably chastised.
She may have been angry but I knew that she had been excited last night. I knew she wanted me to kiss her even though she acted like she didn't want me to. Maybe, if Dad hadn't been there, she would have let me go further but I knew if Dad hadn't been there to mute her reaction, I never would have got as far as I did in the first place.
It was a different supper that night. I couldn't keep my eyes off Mom. She looked sexy even in her conservative work suit. Mom knew I was looking and that I was looking at her not as a mother but as a woman. She also knew I was looking at her breasts, imagining them without the cover of clothes, imagining myself touching them, like I had last night. Did she know I wanted more than that, that I dreamed of fucking her?
That night, I cleaned up after dinner myself. I wouldn't let Mom in the kitchen. When I was finished I went upstairs and returned much later, after relieving myself in more ways than one in the toilet bowl. My late return was according to the plan I'd developed that afternoon, to arrive and let the games begin after Dad had rested for awhile, in the hopes that he would fall asleep again.
Mom was still wearing her business suit. I was disappointed, hoping that after her words with me before supper that she would change into something more accessible. I guess she had meant what she said about not doing anything in front of Dad. I was pissed off.
I sat down near Mom and picked up a magazine, supposedly ignoring her. Dad was reading but I could see he was already beginning to nod off. My resistance waned and I slid over closer to Mom. She smiled.
"Where's your pencil? You can't help me if you don't have a pencil."
Her smile made me suspicious. Had she removed my pencil stash earlier in the day? I reached into the pocket of my housecoat and dragged out the only one there. It wasn't one of the ones I'd put in my stash. It was an unsharpened carpenter's pencil, almost a quarter of an inch thick and half an inch wide. What had happened to the handful I'd put in there yesterday?
"You can't use that on my crosswords," Mom laughed.
She thought she had me and maybe she had. I let the pencil tap against the side of her suit jacket. This wasn't going to be any fun.
"Aren't you hot in that jacket?" I asked in a thinly veiled suggestion to make her breasts more available.
"No," Mom's smile briefly turned up in greater amusement but then returned to its original, nearly straight line.
I let the pencil fall away, resting it on her leg, and watched Mom fill in the crossword. She worked steadily, passing over clues that she couldn't do immediately but returning to them after a few more words had been completed. I tapped her skirt absently.
"Do you have to do that?" Mom asked.
"What? This?" I tapped her leg harder.
"Yes, that," Mom responded, annoyed.
"Yes," I retorted.
Mom quietly harrumphed. I looked at Dad and saw that his head was hanging over and he had slumped back in his chair. I moved the pencil across Mom's skirt, tapping as I went. It made a more hollow drumming sound as I moved onto the material stretched over the gap between her thighs, then softened to a duller thud when I reached the right leg. I tapped my way back again and noticed with perverse pleasure the tightening of Mom's jaw.
The tapping slowed as a thought slowly formed in my mind. Tap, tap, tap, tap... tap... tap... tap... tap.
Mom was about to speak, presumably to tell me that I was being extremely annoying when I suddenly stopped. Mom smiled and nodded her satisfaction. A few seconds later, I slid the pencil forward onto her bare leg and pushed it slowly along the top of her thigh to her knee, transferred to the other leg and dragged the eraser back along that thigh. Mom sighed, but I could tell she would rather put up with this new nuisance than the annoying drumming on her skirt.
Mom continued to fill in the crossword in grim silence, Dad resumed breathing steadily, and I traced the length of Mom's thighs, up one leg and back the other, sometimes switching direction on each leg. Though it was hardly noticeable, I let the pencil's path fall gradually toward the center of Mom's legs so that I was pushing and dragging the eraser along her inner thighs. Mom seemed ok with this which may be why I became bored with it. I decided to push the envelope a little more.
For the hundredth time I dragged the pencil back to the hem of Mom's skirt but this time I 'accidently' dropped it between her legs. The eraser end fell to the couch between the more open end of Mom's legs near her knees but the other, as yet unsharpened tip lodged between the meaty part of Mom's thighs, leaving the pencil on an upward angle of about thirty degrees or so. I rooted around between Mom's legs fumbling the pencil as I tried to pick it up. With each 'fumble', Mom's legs gave way a little as my hand twisted about. I finally managed to regain my grip on the pencil but at the eraser end near Mom's knees.
The pencil resumed its exploration but it now ventured under Mom's skirt, sliding up the inside of her legs until it jammed between the fleshy part of her upper thighs. Mom was momentarily startled and so, in fact, was I, by the sheer brazenness of my act. I wasn't sure how this would go over or what to do now that the pencil was stuck in the thickness of Mom's inner thighs.
Mom glanced at Dad. I did too. He wasn't snoring but his he was breathing more heavily and his eyes were still closed. Nevertheless, I was afraid because he could open his eyes at any moment and start reading again. Surprisingly, Mom looked back at her puzzle as if nothing was amiss. I stared at the book and her motionless hands, at a loss of what to do next, my courage failing me.
Dad snorted and his eyes opened. He shook his head and began to read as if he had never been dozing. Mom lifted the crossword book and set it down on her legs in front of my hand, the one holding the pencil. I took this as a sign and pulled the pencil back, away from Mom's knees. It wiggled it between her legs but she trapped it before it got very far and cast a wary eye at Dad. I remembered Mom's warning not to do anything stupid again in front of Dad but kept wiggling the pencil anyway, just to be a nuisance if nothing else; I don't know why. Mom casually filled in another word, ignoring me, as if she was above my annoying behavior.
I felt I had won something and now wiggled the pencil with a vengeance, twisting it this way and that. The unsharpened end was not as soft as the eraser end and Mom's legs momentarily gave way with each new foray. I found that if I held the pencil flat, Mom's legs would yield more to its width and that quickly snapping it vertical to make it thinner would allow it to slide even further between her thighs. After only a dozen such advances the pencil was quite far under Mom's skirt and I had dragged the hem back quite a ways to let my hand keep up with the pencil's advance. It suddenly struck me that the pencil must be almost touching Mom's panties which triggered another realization. Mom's legs hadn't been squeezing very tightly to impede the pencil's progress. I stilled my hand and, in reaction, Mom's legs tensed around the pencil, but then slowly relaxed when it didn't move.
Dad made a sound and both our heads snapped up to look at him.
It was a snore. His head leaned to one side, our side. If he opened his eyes now, he would be looking directly at us.
Together, we watched Dad for at least a minute. We were absolutely still. Then, I moved the pencil the tiniest bit. My breath caught when I realized that Mom's legs didn't try to stop it, not even a single clench. I pushed it a little more and still encountered no resistance. A little more. I looked down at Mom's skirt to see it bunching up behind my hand as I dragged the pencil even further back. Resistance completely disappeared and I realized the pencil must have reached the open triangle at the crux of Mom's thighs, directly in front of her panties. I twisted the pencil so the flat part would face down and pushed. It collided with Mom's panties in a silent thud that reverberated up my arm.
I turned to look at Mom. She was staring at Dad, her mouth open with a strange, strained look on her face. I pushed the pencil back and forth, skidding its flat side over the gusset of Mom's panties, trying to exert a firm pressure. Mom's mouth opened more but though her expression intensified, no sound spilled forth.
Back and forth, back and forth, I rubbed that heavy carpenter's pencil. Mom seemed to be paralyzed, incapable of motion and quite unable to stop me. I could even feel her pushing against the pencil now as I scraped it across her panties. Oh yeah, there was no doubt, she was horny, real horny. I wanted to turn to her, to shove her skirt up and get my fingers inside her panties and into her cunt but I knew I couldn't. If Dad woke up, everything would be ruined. Right now, he might be taken aback by Mom's strange expression, but the crossword book still blocked his view of my hand and the pencil, and my posture sitting beside Mom made it look like I was simply helping her with the crossword puzzle. That would all be changed if I turned toward Mom so no matter how much she looked like she would let me, I couldn't do it.
I stopped moving the pencil and Mom's hand dropped onto mine, as if to urge it back into motion, but it didn't. Her limp fingers felt soft and feminine on the back of mine. I pulled the end of the pencil up, lifting Mom's skirt, and twisted it so the thin edge was toward Mom's panties. Immediately, I felt it nudge into a soft and yielding groove that somehow felt damp though I knew I couldn't really sense that. I wiggled the pencil and Mom's hand left mine to cover her mouth. Abruptly, I jiggled the pencil up and down, working it into her pantied slit, surprising her so completely her hand closed tightly around her mouth to stifle the moan that threatened to rip out of her throat.
Dad snored loudly, caught his breath and snored again, then twisted his head away from us. I could see his eyes open as his head turned and fear made me jerk my hand and the pencil out of Mom's skirt. Mom leapt to her feet and barked that she was going to bed as she hurried on unsteady feet in front of my still not-really-awake father. I grabbed the crossword book and gathered my housecoat about me, pulling my knees up and lowering the book to hide my enormous erection.
"I think I dozed off," Dad said, shaking his head and looking at me. "Has your mother gone to bed?"
"Yeah," I croaked. It was all I could manage. When I did manage to escape, I half ran up the stairs, my cock getting even harder as I realized the tip of the pencil was indeed damp.
****
Something told me to avoid Mom the next day so after supper, I didn't join her on the couch, even to sit at the far end. Her abrupt departure signaled that I had perhaps transgressed a boundary. If I stayed away and let things settle down maybe I could take up where I had left off. Why, oh why, had I done that fool thing with the pencil? What had come over me? Mom was clearly upset. At breakfast and dinner her whole body tensed up when she had to interact with me, which she kept to a minimum. So I decided to stay away and let it blow over.
I was completely immersed in a game when my mind suddenly filled with dread at the thought of Mom coming up to my room to confront me about my behavior the previous night. Wihtout Dad nearby, Mom wouldn't be restrained and a fight now could ruin everything. I quit the game and got up, searching for a book, anything that I could pretend to read downstairs until Mom went to bed. That's when the message came through. Lynn was Skyping me.
"Hey bro."
Lynn looked fantastic in a man's open-neck t-shirt that clung tightly to her breasts. In the background, I could see her roommate. I couldn't remember her name but in red bra and panties, who could give a shit? Lynn noticed the direction of my gaze.
"I'm right here, bro."
I blushed and looked back at Lynn.
"So what's been happening on the home front?"
"Nothing. Same old, same old."
Lynn was happy with my expected brief response and quickly launched into a recap of her adventures which was probably what she'd called about anyway. My attention wandered to her roommate's body, flitting about in the background, evidently in the process of getting dressed but somehow managing to remain in just bra and panties. Not that I minded. Her body was just as nice as Lynn's. More streamlined, but nice.
When I had sat down, I had closed my housecoat tight but as I listened to Lynn and watched her roommate, I began tenting uncomfortably in my shorts. I shifted the chair closer to the computer to hide what I was doing and pushed the waistband of my underwear down to free my painfully bent cock. I knew the webcam didn't show anything below my chest but I wanted to be certain. As Lynn talked, I absently fiddled with my cock and eventually starting stroking it. The thrust of her tits under the t-shirt and her roommates body prancing around filled my head with lecherous thoughts that I couldn't ignore. I was feeling pretty smug knowing I was wanking off in front of them and getting away with it. It really added a delicious twist.
"So, I was wondering, Ty."
Here is comes, I thought. The real reason for her call.
"Tessa's coming home with me for the fall break."
Lynn paused to let that sink in, half turning around in a stretching twist that arched her tits hard enough against the t-shirt to make it obvious she wasn't wearing anything underneath.
"You're coming, aren't you Tessa?"
Tessa turned her pretty face briefly toward the computer to nod enthusiastically. The whole movement was designed to call attention to Tessa's body which was at that moment facing away from the computer and bent over, providing a magnificent view of Tessa's ass, or should I say, a view of Tessa's magnificent ass.
"So, you can let me use your car for the week, can't you, to show Tessa around?"
There it was. Slid in with her usual precision at exactly the right moment. My sister, the master manipulator. Lynn had turned back to catch me red-handed, gawking at Tessa's fabulous ass.
"You will, won't you?" Lynn purred.
I was nodding my head already, of course, though my answer hadn't yet fully formed in my mind.
"Of course," I finally managed to squeak.
That's when my door opened and Mom walked in. Lynn quickly moved her shoulders to the left to block the view of Tessa's ass and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"Mom!" she cried, in glee.
I, of course was frozen in my chair, except that my head had automatically moved to the right in an obvious effort to see past Lynn for a last glimpse of Tessa's finely sculptured posterior. Tessa, bless her soul, wasn't much faster than I.
"Hi darling. How are you?" Then, impatiently to me, "Tyson, why didn't you call me?"
Mom was pulling my extra chair over from the wall which thankfully gave me time to realize my cock was sticking up through my housecoat. As she pushed the chair against mine, I managed to cover myself in the motion of rising to move my own chair to make room for hers. The housecoat pulled tightly around myself, I was neverthelessl acutely conscious of the fact that my cock was still sticking out of my shorts. Shit!
Mom and Lynn launched into an animated exchange quite unlike their normal interactions at home. I guess they really did miss each other. I kept still, relieved that I was able to cover myself but painfully aware that under the housecoat, my cock still protruded from my underwear. I couldn't very well slip my hand inside my robe to fix it and it simply wouldn't soften up. Maybe it was because I got off on the fear of discovery — after all, my housecoat could fall open if I wasn't vigilant — or maybe it was because, with Mom and Lynn yacking excitedly, I was free to watch Tessa who still cavorted about in the background. Whatever the reason, I had a very hard cock under my robe.
"Yeah, so Ty's going to let me use his car to show Tessa around," Lynn announced.
"Really?" Mom responded, glancing at lanky Tessa who was once again bending over to get something out of a drawer. She looked back at Lynn. "So I guess you won't be around the house much, then?"
"Well, I really want to show Tessa around," Lynn said, apologetically, "and we're going to sleep over at Laura's a couple of nights so she can meet the rest of the girls."
Tessa's butt was wiggling around in the red panties as she searched for something in the drawer, the muscles in her legs straining with the effort. I gawked when her cheeks alternately tensed as her butt swayed about. Lynn was oblivious but Mom noticed and I think she also noticed something else: my robe had slipped off my legs, leaving my shorts exposed, with my cock sticking up past the waistband. My immediate urge was to recover the robe to cover myself but I didn't want to make a sudden move in case I was wrong about Mom noticing. I slid my hands down to grasp the edges of my robe but Mom stopped me by setting her hand squarely on me, her palm covering the part of me that extended out of my shorts . She kept her eyes fixed on Lynn.
"Well," Mom said, "I guess Tyson and I will have to amuse ourselves, then."
I felt a light downward pressure on my dick.
"I'm sorry, Mom. We'll try to be home as much as we can."
"No, no. That's alright. You girls have your fun. I know you need to let off some steam. Tyson can keep me company. God knows your father won't."
There was a definite squeeze and it felt like my cock grew a whole inch out of my shorts.
"How is Dad?" Lynn asked.
"Oh, you know your father."
Mom told Lynn about some of the things Dad had recently done to annoy her. As she talked, Mom massaged my cock with gentle squeezes. She did it offhandedly without compromising her expression and without any hesitation in her speech. At one point, the conversation became more animated and Mom's fingers curled around my shaft and began stroking it. Her fingers stretched inside my shorts but her palm continued massaging the underside of my tip, mashing the helmet against my stomach. Unlike Mom, I struggled to maintain my composure.
"Is something wrong, Ty?" Lynn asked.
"What?" I asked, startled, certain my face wore a guilty look. "No, I'm fine."
"You don't look very well."
"I'm fine. My stomach's a little upset, that's all."
"You can go. I don't mind," Lynn said.
Mom turned and, for the first time, looked down at me. She lifted her hand and patted my stomach.
"I think he's alright," she said, then turned back to Lynn, resuming their conversation where it had left off.
Mom's hand dropped onto my cock again and reached far enough into my shorts that her fingers could grasp my balls which she started squeezing with steadily increasing, pulsing pressure.
"Ty, you really don't look well," Lynn cried.
Mom's grip was getting painful but she released me when Lynn spoke.
"Yeah, I think I'd better go," I mumbled, turning and almost falling off my chair so I didn't expose myself as I stood up. I stumbled to the door and exited the room, my cock waving about over the waistband of my shorts which was stretched underneath my balls. I ran awkwardly for the bathroom , my hand already starting to stroke my cock. My aching balls need release, fast!
I was cleaning myself up when Mom paused by the partially open bathroom door that in my haste I had forgotten to close.
"Two can play hardball, you know."
She was gone before I could speak.
****
What the fuck had happened? Mom had just calmy jacked me off in front of my sister. Her comment made it sound like it was punishment for the night before but she had still taken my cock in her hand. I just wanted to look at and feel her tits and she was willing to hold my cock? I realized now that I'd been playing a game with Mom and I had no idea how big the playing field was. I could hardly wait to get home from my stupid job the next day. I desperately needed to be with Mom, without Dad around.
I waited until later in the evening before going downstairs. I sat a ways from Mom, leafing disinterestedly through a magazine. She glanced at me a couple of times but I remained aloof until she patted the couch beside her and invited me to help her with her crossword. I declined.
"Suit yourself," she said nonchalantly but sounding a little miffed.
Quite a while later, Mom spoke quietly to Dad, "Gary, why don't you go up to bed. You're falling asleep."
Dad shook his head and looked bleary-eyed at Mom. "Am I?"
"Yes," Mom said.
"I suppose I should hit the sack, then." Dad got up and looked at Mom. "Are you coming?"
"After I finish this crossword," Mom replied.
Dad stumbled over to Mom, leaned over, and gave her a kiss. "I'll wait up for you," he said.
"Alright, dear."
Mom continued her crossword after Dad left and I kept pretending to read my magazine. It was kind of ridiculous, really. Finally, Mom looked at me.
"Come over here. You know you want to."
I declined again.
"I'll let you see them if you like."
"No, it's ok."
"I know you lent your car to Lynn so she would be out of the house, removing temptation, so to speak. I appreciate that. If you come over here, I'll let you touch them."
I remained silent. After that offer, I have no idea why.
"Suit yourself," Mom said in a minor huff and returned to her puzzle.
I put my magazine down. If we were going to play games, I was going to go for it. I wasn't going to settle for just touching up her tits. I opened my robe. I was naked underneath and my cock sprang to attention. I held it loosely with my fingers at the base, keeping it straight upright. It took Mom a moment to notice.
"Good God, Tyson," she cried. "Put it away."
I shook my head and smiled arrogantly.
"You don't really think just because I touched it I can't do without it, do you?"
"No," I stammered, shocked by the accuracy of her assessment.
"Women don't go gaga just because they touched a man's cock. At least, not outside porn movies," Mom laughed.
The only good part about the direction this was taking was Mom referring to my dick as a man's cock. Still, I didn't know what to do now. I felt kind of silly but I couldn't just stuff it back under my robe like a dog with my tail between my legs.
"Honestly, Tyson. Put it away."
I stubbornly refused.
Mom started doing her puzzle again and I continued waving my pole around. The silly feeling intensified but I kept waving it around. I didn't know what else to do. I had almost decided to put it away and ask if she'd like some tea to get back in her good books when Mom cast a long sideways glance at my hard dick. I pretended not to notice but tried to make my cock stand up higher, tightening my groin to make it even prouder. Mom glanced at it again. I strained upwards several times and stroked it lightly with my left hand.
"Oh, for God's sake Tyson." Exasperated, Mom put her book down and looked up the stairs where the light from her bedroom was shining into the hallway. Dad had left the light on for her. She looked at me, down at my cock, then back at my face. She whispered, "Do you want me to touch it again? Is that what you want, for me to touch it for you?"
I nodded, holding her gaze steadily, surprised that I had the balls to do it.
"Alright, but just this once. Come over here then," Mom patted the couch beside her.
I shook my head, slowly stroking my now huge erection. Mom stared at it, and for the life of me, I thought I saw a speck of moisture glinting at the corner of her mouth.
"Brat," she said and shifted toward me on the couch. She leaned over on one elbow and reached with her other hand, encircling my shaft with her soft fingers, then moved them up to displace my hand. "There," she cooed. "Does that feel better? Is that what you want?"
I nodded. I could neither speak nor breathe. It felt absolutely wonderful.
"A woman's hand feels so much better, doesn't it," Mom purred, stroking my cock steadily, pausing to rub her palm around the head, pinching as her fingers slid down the shaft and circled around the base for an extra squeeze before rising back to the tip. I was already breathing hard.
"Do you like the way Mommy's hand feels," Mom teased, stroking me faster. "Do you like Mommy's hand on your cock?"
Her throaty voice almost made me come on its own. I nodded vigorously, my head jerking up and down, thrilled and irritated at the same time by the reference to herself as 'Mommy'.
"Do you want me to show you my tits tomorrow, like I promised?"
I jerked my head again. Mom's strokes were catching up to the speed of my neck. I was ecstatic. She had said before she would show me her tits and maybe even let me touch them but she had never promised.
"I can't now, because your Daddy's upstairs waiting for me," she panted.
My head snapped up to stare at the top of the stairs.
"That's right," Mom rasped, jacking me hard now. "Think how angry your Daddy would be if he knew what you were making me do."
I had been about to come but the thought of my father standing at the top of the stairs, glaring down at us, then coming to get me made my cum, already starting to surge forth, freeze in my nuts. That's when Mom lowered her head and took my head into her mouth. My hips lurched up, trying to shove the rest of my cock inside but she pulled back, not allowing another inch inside. I kept lunging, trying to fuck her face but Mom withdrew and licked my tip, her tongue swirling all around the helmet. I started to come and tried to hold Mom's head in place but she jerked it back and slammed my cock against my stomach, holding it tight while I spurted all over my heaving abdomen. Mom waited until I was fully spent before speaking.
"This was a one-time thing, Tyson. It was your doing, so don't get hung about it, and don't expect it to happen ever again."
She closed my robe over my chest and wiped her hand clean on the outside. Then, she leaned close and kissed me gently on my lips. She spoke in a very throaty voice, "You were a lovely boy and you've become quite a man but you have to know that I won't let you fuck me."
The way she said 'fuck' had a sound all its own and despite the negative statement the tone was full of promise. Mom kissed me quickly again, smiled sweetly, and was gone. I watched her body swaying as she climbed the stairs, still stunned by her graphic language, and thought, I want to fuck you so badly.
****
I had to work the next morning at nine. Dad had just finished his breakfast when I came downstairs. He pushed his plate away and pulled his coffee closer before sticking his nose in the morning paper. Mom was already drinking her coffee and reading the arts section. Dad was dressed for work and Mom was wearing her everyday housecoat. As I made my breakfast, I wondered what she was wearing underneath the robe and whether or not she would honor her promise to show me her tits or if she had just said that to work me up, knowing she was doing it for only one time. I figured that if I rushed, I would have at least half an hour home alone with Mom before Dad got there. Maybe she'd show me then.
I watched Mom as I ate my breakfast. As with dinner so many nights ago, I knew Mom was aware of my observation even though she gave no outward indication that she was. Though there was no suggestive gap in her robe I let my eyes linger on her breasts, then let them travel slowly down her torso to her lap and along her thighs. I followed her bare leg from the point where the robe parted just above her knee down to her bare foot which dangled above the slipper that had fallen to the floor under the table. Mom had nice legs and I hoped I would have a chance to touch them again. I could hardly wait until my shift was over and it hadn't even started yet. I looked at the clock. Maybe if I started a little early, I could get off sooner.
"I better get going," I said, gobbling an entire half piece of toast.
"Slow down and eat your breakfast properly, Tyson," Mom admonished me. "I thought you didn't start until nine today?"
I was surprised that Mom knew my shifts. "That's right, I said.
"Well, then, eat properly." Mom turned to Dad. "Gary, you should get going dear or you're going to be late."
"Oh," Dad said, looking at the clock. "Yes, I'd better get going."
He got up, drained his coffee and walked to the hall closet. Mom accompanied him and helped him with his coat, then picked his briefcase up and handed it to him, holding her face toward him for a quick peck before he turned and walked out to his car. Mom closed the door and walked back to the kitchen.
"Eat slowly, Tyson. It isn't healthy to gulp your food."
I looked at the clock. It was almost eight-thirty. If I ate properly, I wouldn't be able to get home early. Mom was clearing away her dishes and putting them in the sink. As she returned to get Dad's dishes, I resigned myself that I would get at most half an hour with Mom after work before Dad got home; not much time to see and sample her wares. I put another piece of toast into my mouth and my jaw stopped.