Incest/Taboo Mom Tries Belly Dancing

Mom still remained silent and I told myself to stop talking and just enjoy what she was doing. I was quite hard now, so some part of me was paying close attention. Mom spit on her hand and began stroking me harder, holding my cock more firmly, but not faster.

"I wonder if lots of Moms do stuff with their sons."

"Curtis, I don't want to talk about it."

I looked down. Mom was concentrating on what she was doing, seemingly mesmerized by my shaft and the movement of her small fist up and down its length. She spit on her hand again and applied the saliva to the tip of my cock.

I turned Mom's face toward me and leaned down to kiss her. We necked for a while and I soon had Mom twisted toward me with her right leg thrown over mine. I teased her lips with mine, in no hurry and wondered how she managed to deftly parry my nibbles without loosing a beat on my cock when it took all of my concentration to kiss her the best I knew how.

My left hand found its way between her legs and started moving up her skirt but my lips faltered. I didn't have Mom's multi-tasking skills.

"Curtis," Mom admonished, pulling away.

"That's not fair," I complained.

Mom didn't say anything and I withdrew my hand a bit. We started kissing again. After a minute, when I thought she was back into it, I pushed my hand deeper into Mom's skirt but I didn't get any farther because she tightened her thighs.

"Stop being a brat," Mom said when the kiss ended.

"You could unzip your dress instead," I suggested.

"I don't think so."

We started to kiss again and I wiggled my hand deeper between Mom's tightly clamped thighs. Just when I thought I wasn't going to get anywhere, Mom slid her right foot down my leg a little and loosened the hold her thighs had on my hand. I pushed it deep and gasped when my fingers collided with the gusset of Mom's panties.

"Is that the big thing you were hoping for?" Mom teased, her voice soft and sexy, yet amused.

"Yes," I gasped, the delight of discovery robbing me of breath.

"Good grief," Mom sighed.

My hand dug deeper and the edge of my index finger slid along the groove below the front of Mom's panties until the thumb notched into place, stopping further progress. I lowered my thumb and scratched it across the mounded gusset of Mom's panties.

"You shouldn't do that," Mom husked.

"Why?"

Mom didn't answer. Her lips sought mine and we buried ourselves in a long kiss and both our hands and fingers continued the tasks on which they were currently engaged. I was surprised when we finished the kiss to find Mom panting, as I already was. I didn't ease the pressure applied by the edge of my wiggling fingers in her groove, or the caressing brush of my thumb across her mound, and I was pleased that Mom continued to stroke my cock lovingly, though she did it more slowly and squeezed with a firmer grip.

"Curtis?"

"What?"

"Maybe we should stop now."

In answer, I covered Mom's mouth with mine. My lips really worked hers hard and at some point my tongue slipped into her mouth. Mom groaned and twisted her face hard upon mine and I responded by squeezing her pussy and flicking my thumb with greater pressure on her swollen lower lips.

The kiss ended and Mom turned her face downward. I pressed down on the back of her head and this time, instead of yanking it back and chewing me out, she let me guide it down until her I felt the puff of her hot breath. Mom resisted the pressure then, her mouth hovering over my cock and bathing it with hot air from her sexy mouth until, at last, it lowered and blessed my tip with the caress of her moist lips.

"Ahhhhh God, Mom."

Mom sucked the head into her mouth and closed her lips behind the helmet like she was tightening a collar around it.

"Oh Jeez, Mom, Jeez."

Mom pushed her mouth down the shaft, wiggling her head until her lips mashed into my pubic hair. It was awkward, but I pulled my hand up and slipped it under the waistband of Mom's panties, then reached below to cup her bare pussy. Rather than fighting me, as I expected her to, Mom did something with her pelvis that provided greater access and my fingers abruptly slid through her groove and into her hole. Mom's head started sliding faster up and down my cock.

I helped Mom's head with my free hand and she grasped my wrist and steered my other hand to the position she wanted it to be in. I had two fingers deep inside Mom but she twisted my wrist until my thumb was digging into the middle of her mound on the outside and then began bucking against me. For my part, I pushed Mom's face back onto my cock every time she lifted it.

We thrashed around like that for several minutes, or maybe less, and then we were both coming. I was spurting into Mom's mouth and she was convulsing around my fingers and thumb, legs and feet jerking. When we were both done, Mom withdrew to her side of the car and we both straightened our clothes.

"We should go," Mom spoke quietly.

I started the car, backed out, and started down the hill. Mom was looking out her window and, from the slight jerk of her head, looked like she was swearing at herself.

"I shouldn't have let you do that," Mom said out loud.

I didn't answer.

When we got home we found Dad asleep in his chair. I went upstairs while Mom woke him up. After changing into my pajama bottoms, I went to use the bathroom but heard them through their bedroom door.

"No, Ted. I'm too tired."

"Ted, no."

A few minutes later, "Jesus Ted."

That was followed by my father huffing and puffing and the bed creaking.

Mom didn't make a sound.
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The next Tuesday, I was home early as usual but was surprised to find no music playing and Mom in the kitchen baking. She had an apron over an old housedress, a summer print, with flour all over her hands but also on one cheek and her forehead. She certainly didn't look like she was about to practise belly dancing.

I was disappointed but didn't say anything. I went up to my room, dumped my backpack, and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. Then I went back downstairs, made myself a snack and poured a large glass of milk, and watched Mom bake.

At one point Mom turned and looked at me and laughed.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Your face," Mom answered.

She walked over to me and reached out with her index finger, rubbed it across my lower lip, and showed me the milk on it. I laughed and reached up to wipe Mom's face, then showed her the flour. We both laughed again but Mom stopped pretty quickly and rubbed her fingertip across my upper lip and than back across my lower lip.

"You're pouting like a little boy whose been told he can't have any treats."

I stood up and rubbed both of Mom's cheeks. She took my hand then and turned, leading me into the living room. She took me to the couch and pushed me down onto it, then walked over to the stereo and turned on the CD player. The music for the Dance of the Seven Veils burst forth.

With her back to me, Mom reached behind herself and untied her apron, then let it fall to the floor. I expected her to start dancing after that but instead she reached up and unzipped the housedress, pushed it off her shoulders one at a time and then over her hips. The dress fell to the floor with a soft rustle. Underneath, Mom was wearing a bra made of thin material that couldn't hide the features of her breasts and a pair of panties that featured a triangle in front and not much else. Neither matched the simple, home-maker house dress.

Mom started to dance. I watched her perform the entire thing, faking the toss of invisible veils, until she ended up on the floor. I waited for her to sit up and crawl over to me but Mom stayed where she was, lying on her back, legs a'kilter.

I waited, but Mom didn't move. I was about to go to her when she sat up, crossed her feet and wrapped her arms around her knees, then sat and smiled at me. I opened my legs in a gesture of welcome and that brought a wider smile from Mom but instead of crawling toward me she sank backward on the floor, her legs unfolding smoothly as part of the larger motion.

I crawled over to Mom. She watched me approach, an expectant expression on her face, breathing quietly but in a way that suggested it was barely under control. That excited me, knowing she was excited too.

When I tried to stretch out alongside her, Mom drew her legs up and squeezed them together. I sat beside her and pushed her knees, thinking they would straighten out but was surprised when they fell apart but remained still bent and up off the floor. I was looking right at Mom's panties, focused on the white expanse covering her prominent mound. It looked alive.

Mom started to get up but I pressed her back onto the carpet.

"No, Curtis."

"Lie still just for a minute."

"We shouldn't," Mom protested, but she didn't try to get up.

I leaned around Mom's right knee and settled in between her legs, lowering my head until my face was hardly an inch from her panties. Taking a page from Mom's book, I blew hot air on the panties and was thrilled when I saw them quiver in response. I blew again, and again.

"Curtis…"

I lowered my face until it contacted the panties, found her groove with my nose and nudged it up until my lips pressed across it.

"Curtis…"

I opened my mouth and covered as much of Mom's mound as I could fit, then munched with a gentle squeeze. Mom's thighs scissored up beside my face and I thought she was about to buck me off until her hands closed onto the back of my head and pulled me harder onto her muff.

"Oh, my God," she gasped.

I knew then that no matter what Mom said, she needed it, even if she didn't want it. I pushed my face hard onto Mom's swollen panties. Her fingers caught in my hair and I endured some pain as she tugged my head about while I worked my mouth on her panties, knawing at her puffy lips.

We struggled like that for a couple of minutes until Mom's hands gradually stopped trying to pull my head away and I began moving it around on her panties. Her legs opened to make the task easier and I settled in to kiss and munch Mom's musky underwear. When Mom arched her back and moaned, I took the liberty of sliding her panties down her thighs until they were above my head and slipped between her legs until the panties were stretched behind my neck.

My tongue found Mom's hole and that sent her into a writhing frenzy but nothing like a few minutes later when I slid my nose up through her groove to flick my tongue over her clit and pushed a couple of fingers into her cunt to frig it while I kissed and licked her pussy and flicked her clit. Mom exploded into a loud orgasm that was so frantic I wondered when or if she had ever come that hard. Dad was obviously too selfish a lover to do his duty properly.

I moved up beside Mom and kissed her lightly on the lips. She pushed my face back and used both hands to smooth my face, wiping her juice away. Then she moved her hands down to my sweatpants and started to push them down but, with our usual timing, Dad's car sounded in the driveway. Mom got up, pulled her panties up, and started putting her dress on. She looked at the huge tent in my sweatpants and said, "Sorry baby."

"That's alright," I said.

"You'd better get going. You don't want to be standing around with that thing sticking out when your father comes in."

"Right," I laughed nervously, looking at the front door.

Later that night, Mom woke me up. Groggily, I looked up at her as she slid into the bed beside me, propped a pillow up and leaned back against the headboard. When I twisted around and tried to kiss her, she pushed me off.

"Get up here," she said.

"What?" I asked, my head still full of cobwebs.

"Get up here," Mom repeated, her hand snaking into my pajamas and grasping my still sleeping, flaccid cock.

Mom pulled and I followed. By the time I was straddling her hips, my cock was gaining strength and when Mom pulled the tip up to her lips, it was ready to gallop. I slid easily into Mom's mouth and worked my cock gently back and forth but, with Mom's urging, I soon quickened my pace. It wasn't long before I was fucking Mom's face with her full permission, her hands grasping my hips to urge me on. When I began unloading my spunk in Mom's mouth, I wondered if she would let me spew some on her face but decided I didn't want to test that hypothesis. Not yet, anyway. We had come a long way and I didn't want to blow it.

When I was done, Mom slipped off the bed and, with a smile, said, "Saved your pajamas from the laundry."

I blushed at the reminder that Mom had known all along that I was thinking of her and jacking off at night every time she danced for me during the day.

Thursday was similar to Tuesday. Mom wasn't baking but she was wearing an ordinary house dress when I came home. This time, as soon as I arrived, Mom pulled me into the living room and sat me on the couch. After starting the music, she stripped off the dress to reveal an even skimpier set of bra and panties. When the dance was finished, I prepared to crawl over to Mom but she beat me too it, crawling toward me like a lioness stalking its prey.

Mom leaned over my lap and immediately began caressing my cock, rubbed her face over my pants for a few seconds, then quickly fished my hardness out to grace the afternoon air and her sweet mouth. Despite Tuesday night, I thought about the difficulty I had getting Mom's mouth on my cock the first time and was surprised how easily she dispensed with jacking me off and moved straight to sucking me. Not that I was complaining.

I held Mom's head down after she got going. It made it better if I could hold her head and pretend I was forcing her face to stay deep on my cock. I think Mom instinctively knew that because she didn't complain. Needless to say, I was soon coming in Mom's mouth and thinking about spewing on her face, but chickened out. Two days before I would never have thought this could happen and already I was thinking of going further, getting more. I waited for Mom to slide away to lie on the floor so I could eat her out but instead she stood up, stepped onto the couch to straddle my hips, and lowered her pussy to my face.

"Stick out your tongue," she rasped.

I did and Mom found it with the center of her panties, spreading her legs out along the couch beside me so she could grind herself on my mouth. She wouldn't let her panties down her legs for quite a while but when she did, she was so far gone she could hardly stand up. I put my hands under Mom's ass for support while she braced her hands on my shoulders to keep aloft. I had to hold my neck stiffly to stop it flopping from side to side as Mom ground her soaking wet pussy on my face. I did my best to keep my tongue stiff inside her, partly to dampen the side-to-side twisting action of her frantic pelvis. I guess I did a good enough job because my neck didn't break and Mom came with a vengeance that doused my face a good one.

"Gosh," she said afterward, stroking my cheek with a gentle hand. "I didn't mean to do that to you but you made me so wet. Oh Jeez, I can't believe I'm talking to you like that."

"It's alright Mom. I owe you one."

Mom looked at me with a funny expression and I wished I'd kept my mouth shut. I still couldn't predict how she would react to anything I said or did.

Mom put her dress on and we walked upstairs together, arm in arm. When Dad came home, I was standing at the top of the stairs, kissing Mom, my hands under her dress and on her ass.

"We don't have to do this just when you dance or we go out for dinner, Mom. I don't think I can wait until next Tuesday."

"You'll have to, son, because those are the rules, and after I've done the Dance of the Seven Veils for Carol, we're done."

I was too stunned by what Mom said to answer. How could she say that, how could she stop, after how far we'd gone, when we were just beginning? This wasn't a trade. Didn't she know I loved her?
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On Friday, Dad took Mom out for dinner and then to the same club they had danced in before. They were tipsy when they arrived home but I wasn't downstairs to see it. I ran up to my room as soon as I heard their car pull into the driveway and listened to their giggles and muffled voices. Later, I heard muted sounds of lovemaking. I didn't hear any indication of a disagreement like had happened last time but, like before, their love-making was very brief. Dangerously, I lingered by their door. It wasn't long before Dad was snoring.

I went to bed then and soon dozed off myself but woke up while shifting positions and noticed a light in the hallway. I looked at the clock and saw that I had actually been sleeping for almost two hours. I got up and peeked into the hall. It was dark so the light must be coming from downstairs, probably the kitchen. I walked warily to the end of the hallway and confirmed my suspicion. Someone had left the kitchen light on. I descended the stairs, now relaxed and scratching my nuts. I was a little hungry anyway so I might as well have a snack now that I was up.

At the bottom of the stairs, I turned to enter the kitchen but was startled by a motion in the living room.

"Dad?"

There was no answer, but someone or something had moved. I peered into the half-light, the hair on the back of my neck standing up, until I saw a woman's figure, body still but arms moving in a fluid motion by her sides. I put my hand above my eyes to peer more intently, trying to see Mom's face but her expression was hidden in the shadows. All I could see was the light from the kitchen reflecting from her eyes and bathing her arms in a translucent glow. The tingling in my neck spread down my arms and body to stimulate my groin.

I moved into the living room and stepped sideways toward the couch. As I did so, the light from the street backlit Mom's figure and I saw that she was wearing the costume for the Dance of the Seven Veils. The silhouette of her figure underneath was starkly lit against the backdrop of the living room window. Mom's hips twitched, shook, and rolled with an obvious reaction from me. I sat down to watch her dance, the house dead silent except for the sound of the music in Mom's head and mine.

Mom's movements gradually became more lively. I took in every twist and shimmy, every lunge and kick, even the individual movements of her fingers. The dance went on and on and was so consuming that I barely noticed when each veil was individually discarded but, when she was down to three, Mom slipped onto her back on the floor and lay still for a full minute.

Mom started the floor routine just as I leaned forward to get up, thinking she was done. I sank back into the couch and after a moment my hand found the hard cock tenting up the front of my pajamas. I slipped it under the waistband and wrapped my hand around my meat. It was impossible not to touch my cock.

Even if Lady Alexandra was ten years younger than Mom, instead of the other way around, she couldn't have been as sexy. Mom was fantastic. She moved when she should move, stayed still when time was needed to appreciate the beauty of her form, and stretched with fluid but excruciating slowness when a tease would have its most devastating effect.

Mom ground her pelvis in the air, rolled her hips from side to side and alternately opened and closed her legs. She spun around to face the rug, stretched her legs up high behind her, bent her knees and pushed out her behind, but only allowed such presentation for a brief, teasing flash.

I was startled to see that Mom had somehow sprung to her feet without me noticing, for she was dancing nearer to me now, her snake-like arms teasing, beckoning. I started to get up but she quickly retreated, hands warding me off, as she smiled mischievously, crouching, thigh muscles bulging in a convincing demonstration of feminine power.

Mom now stood her ground instead of whirling and twirling around. Her hips no longer kinked and twitched and her tummy rolled rather than convulsed above her legs and under her chest, always beside or behind or in front of her constantly moving arms. And always the eyes, the teasing, laughing eyes.

Suddenly it was over.

Mom was facing me on widespread knees, body flung back, breasts thrusting upward over a sharply arched back, hair dangling on the floor behind her, balanced by bare feet stretched alongside and out from sweat-glistened thighs.

Again, just as I was about to get up to go to her, Mom rose up and stretched her hand out in the universal signal to stop. Her teeth flashed briefly in the kitchen light then disappeared and the glint of two seemingly coal black eyes, rather than her normal green ones, fixed upon me.

Mom was moving. She pushed herself fluidly onto her hands and knees, lowered her shoulders, and crept toward me like a panther. The clash of the faint but cold light from the street with the warm rays from the kitchen made the muscles in Mom's back ripple ominously, even through the veil. Mom looked like she was about to pounce on her prey. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. I leaned away, pressing my back into the couch.

"Mom?" I whispered, nervously.

Mom reared up and threw her upper body onto my lap, flinging her arms around my waist and digging between it and the couch until her hands clasped together in a tight hold. Her chest heaved on my knees as she gasped for air and I realized how utterly exhausted she must be. I put my arms on Mom's back and rubbed behind her shoulders.

"You were awesome."

"Shhhhhh," Mom hissed.

I complied, looking down at Mom lying with the left side of her face squarely on top of my hard cock, throbbing and sticking out of my pajama bottoms. I started to speak, to say that I wasn't trying to do anything, that I didn't just want her mouth, but Mom shushed me again.

"Shhhhhhhh."

I tried to lift Mom's head. It came free of my lap but she turned to look straight down and then forced her face lower until it regained contact with my pajamas. Her nose skidded along the right side of my hard cock and the puffiness of her lips pressed against its root, just above my balls. Mom's head twisted up and her lips and nose followed, past the waistband, and onto bare skin. The feel of Mom's soft, moist lips scraping up the underside of my cock was too much to bear. I groaned.

"Shhhhhh."

Oh my God. Mom's tongue was dragging up behind her lips. She neared the tip, licking, head moving, adjusting, opening…shit, she was pulling me in, completely inside her warm, wet mouth. Oh God, Mom, oh Mom. She slid right down, all the way, filling her mouth, licking and munching on my root. God, her head was moving up, all the way, and off…Jesus, she was licking it, her tongue swirling around, then her lips closed over the tip and her mouth slid down my shaft again.

I started coming before Mom even reached the root. Can you imagine, two sucks and I was gone? Spurting, my hips lunging involuntarily, completely out of control, my hands holding Mom's head in place as I thrust frantically into her mouth, many times, convulsing, gasping and desperately trying to breathe. Then I was still, spent, but Mom kept sucking, licking me clean as she slowly pushed her lips tightly down my shaft and rubbed the underside with her raspy tongue, like a cat's.

At first, I didn't care. It felt nice but I was spent. Then I did care. It felt more than nice; it felt great and then, fantastic. My hands found the back of Mom's head again and I began steering it around my cock and trying to hold it down, all the way down to my root. Mom let me, staying all the way on and only coming off in a loud pop to gulp air before capturing my hard rod and shoving her mouth onto it again. When I was as hard as ever, Mom pulled her face off my cock and raised her head.

"Ready?" she whispered.

For what?

Mom's hands, still curled around my waist, grabbed the back of the waistband for my pajamas and yanked. I lifted my hips to make it easier and they slid down my legs. Mom pulled them below my knees and then off my feet. Then she stood up and, smiling down at me, removed the upper veil. Mom's naked tits bounced into view above me, full and heavy, nipples jabbing into the semi-darkness that my eyes now penetrated with ease.

The skirt veil was next and then Mom was standing in front of me wearing only the mini micro-veil that barely covered her pussy. A lift and a snap and it too was gone. Mom allowed me to stare at her bare pussy for a few seconds before kneeling on the couch, straddling my thighs to align her slit above my wavering cock, then slipped it inside. I enjoyed a moment of extreme bliss which I thought couldn't be surpassed but Mom proved me wrong when she slid slowly down my shaft, her inner walls clasping my rigid spear, squeezing and massaging all the way down until she sat upon my root and the soft, wet gums of her lower lips caressed the skin around the base of my cock.

"Don't you dare leave me hanging," Mom whispered. "I've had my fill of that."

"I won't, Mom. I promise," I gasped.

An image of Mom lying frustrated beside my satisfied, sleeping father filled my head and I laughed out loud. I thrust upward, shoving my cock even deeper inside Mom and she grunted in appreciation as I lifted her off the couch, the first of many times to follow.

Thereafter, I limited myself to such movements because it was Mom's turn to wrench enjoyment out of me and oh, how she did. There was a lot of pent up, frustrated desire in Mom, the result of too many nights being left hanging by my worn out, prematurely aging father. I wished I could say I fucked my mother good that first time but actually it was the other way around. Mom fucked the shit out of me.

When Mom was done, she sagged limply upon me. At first her arms circled my neck but they soon loosened and fell to the side. I nuzzled and kissed Mom's neck and was surprised to learn that my hands held two meaty handfuls of tits. I massaged them but Mom pulled away and fell to the side to lie lengthways on the couch.

I followed Mom, leaning over her, grasping her legs behind the knees and pressing them back to her shoulders. As Mom shook her head slowly from side to side, belatedly realizing what I was up to, I plunged my still hard cock deep into her wet pussy. I looked down upon her in triumph and Mom looked back, but not in submission.

"Kiss me," she said.

A few minutes later she turned her face away and cried, "Squeeze them hard."

I reached around Mom's thighs to grab her tits and started fucking her in earnest the way only a young man can do. Thank God my father was a heavy sleeper because I put that couch through its paces, the top of my thighs slapping loudly upon the back of hers. When we were done, had caught our breath and stopped kissing each other, Mom got up. I tried to pull her back onto the couch for another round but she pulled away, silently mouthing, "No, go to bed." It was just as well because I probably couldn't have managed it anyway.

Mom gathered the veils and walked up the stairs naked in front of me without the slightest hint of awkwardness or shame. I stopped her before she entered her room and pushed her against the wall for a final kiss and a proprietary clasp and exploration of her wet pussy, sliding my hands from her ass to finger her from behind.

Mom whispered, "No more," and twisted away from me. I was left in the dark hallway with only my wet fingers and hard cock as evidence that I had bedded my mother despite all the signs that it would never happen.

What had changed? It was as if Mom was like that picture of the old hag or the young girl. As you stared hard at one perspective, it suddenly became the other. Mom had said that after she danced at Milo's our special relationship was over, yet she had just consummated our relationship in a way she implied would never happen. I had achieved my dreams, somehow, through no effort of my own but tomorrow night Mom would perform the Dance of the Seven Veils and, in her own words, our special relationship would not continue beyond that performance. But how could it not, after we had gone all the way?
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Mom's cool and indifferent attitude the next day granted me no assurance that things were going to stay the same between us; there was no confirmation that we had crossed a one-way boundary and that things could never be the same. There were no secret glances or smiles, no sashays across the kitchen floor when Dad wasn't looking. Nothing, nada. In fact, Mom seemed perturbed whenever I approached her closely, however subtlety.

I read up on incestuous relations between mothers and sons—it sounded ugly and I hated to admit that it described us but that's what it was. Still, I felt what happened was beautiful—not the crap on the sex story sites but in the case studies of real relationships. These weren't as rare as one might think and though they weren't described in flattering terms, I saw a glimmer of beauty hiding within each case.

I also found out that a mature woman could be released from, often self-imposed, sexual inhibition in an explosion of sexuality. So why was Mom, having done that last night, now exhibiting the opposite effect? Sure, it had only been one day but the tension between us had been building incrementally for weeks and this was the second time she had cooled toward me. I hoped she just needed some space.

So I played it cool. That lasted for all of two hours and then I got the brush off when I tossed a hint in as low key a manner as humanly possible. Even so, Mom seemed angry and flashed a nervous glance in my father's direction, and he wasn't even in the room. I left and angrily went upstairs to my room to sulk. Fuck! Women were so fucking frustrating.

I didn't emerge until Mom yelled for me to come down for dinner. I didn't shout back lest my father get involved so I went downstairs. The dining room table wasn't set and Dad was sitting in the living room already eating on a TV table. Mom had changed into a frilly white blouse and a sleek black skirt. Her hair was done up like she was ready to go out.

"We're going to be late. Why haven't you changed?" she asked, frowning as she regarded my sloppy attire, sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Changed? For what?" I mumbled.

"Milo's. You promised to take me to see the special show Carol told us about."

Dad looked up and winked at me. "Ahhh, so you're into the older ladies?"

I rolled my eyes.

"You'd better go and get ready, son," Dad added more sympathetically.

I turned and started back up the stairs.

"You'd better hurry," he said. "It looks like you're already in trouble."

I sprang up the stairs but my mind raced way ahead of my body. Dinner, then a drive up to see the city lights, and maybe some…whatever, then back home and hopefully Dad would be in bed by then so we could…Yeah, oh yeah. I knew it!

But wait. Mom wasn't wearing the green dress with the little bra underneath. She was wearing a staid, well a little frilly, but still conservative-looking white blouse and a plain black skirt, not even a short one, it was down to her knees for crying out loud.

Yeah, so? She still looks nice in it. It shows her figure nicely and her legs are great. You can see she's still got a dynamite body.

But it's so conservative. If she was going to get wild, wouldn't she be wearing the green dress or that sexy black number, or something else she had to hide under her coat so Dad wouldn't see?

Maybe, maybe not.

I quit talking to myself and got busy dressing. I had just tucked my shirt into my pants and was about to do my tie when Mom knocked on the door and pushed it open.

"That looks better. Here, let me help."

Mom started doing my tie and while she concentrated on it I carefully regarded her for any sign that things were going to get back on track, or keep going off track depending on your perspective, but I couldn't fathom her mood.

Mom looked pretty with her make-up all done. I inhaled her aroma, a mix of her core scent which I now easily recognized and that of the perfume she was wearing. I looked at the delicate curve of her neck, which seemed so long with her hair up, and leaned forward a tiny bit, propelled by the urge to kiss it.

Mom pulled away. "There," she said, surveying her handiwork. "Put your jacket on and let's go."

I got my sports jacket from the closet and put it on, then went to the door and waited for Mom.

"Aren't you going to put on your dress shoes?"

"Oh yeah."

I retrieved my shoes from the closet and started toward the bed so I could sit down when I put them on, remembered that Mom would admonish me if I didn't use a shoe horn, returned to the closet for it and bent over to put my shoes on. I kneeled down to tie my shoes but my eyes surveyed Mom's legs, at least, as much as they could with my head tilted down. When I stood up, ready to go, Mom spoke.

"You understand we must act like nothing unnatural has happened between us, don't you Curtis?"

I nodded. I hated the sound of that word, 'unnatural'. It described what happened between us in prejudical terms as if it was wrong and was now over. There was an air of finality about it . Deflated, I nodded and walked into the hall and waited for Mom to come out of my room. When she turned out the light it felt like hope had been extinguished inside me.

However, as Mom walked ahead of me and I watched her carefully descend the stairs in her high heels, I decided that the white blouse and sleek back skirt was quite edgy and not at all conservative. Perhaps I had misread her mood. As long as Mom was near, my hope would never die.

Mom asked Dad if there was anything else he needed and then reminded him to give me some money so she didn't have to pay for dinner. While Dad got his wallet out and gave me the money, Mom went into the hallway to put her coat on. I joined her after Dad gave me the dough; this was becoming quite a profitable tradition.

I waited for Mom to do up her coat before opening the door in case it was chilly outside. While I did, I thought about how naturally it now came for me to be courteous and considerate toward Mom, opening doors for her, seating her at the restaurant, that kind of thing. I liked treating her well.

I put my hand on the door knob but Mom's coat was still partly unbuttoned and she wasn't making any move to do it up. I started to say something but Mom put her finger to her lips to shush me. She beckoned me closer.

As I stepped near, Mom let her hands fall to the front of her skirt. I looked down and watched her fingers curl up, bunching together two handfuls of black skirt. Mom's hands slid upward, pulling the skirt higher.

Fear drove my eyes away. Fear of being discovered by Dad sitting just around the corner watching TV. I looked back at Mom, saw the mischievous smile and sparkly eyes I had been missing so much, then looked down at the skirt's hem which was now stretched tightly across her upper thighs. Mom started to say something but I couldn't hear so I stepped really close and put my ear close to her mouth.

"I'm already wet," she whispered, and pushed her lips against mine for an instant.

I was so stunned I almost fell backward into the door. Mom followed, whispering.

"Go upstairs and get my panties, the ones you hid under your pillow."

"What?" Dad asked.

"Nothing, dear," Mom answered. She looked at me. "Quickly," she whispered, and then in a normal voice, "I'll wait for you in the car."

I bounded up the stairs and back after retrieving Mom's panties. I had the presence of mind to wave my wallet at Dad as I passed by him on the way to the door. He shook his head.

I ran to the car. Mom was waiting by the passenger door, keys in hand. She gave them to me and waited for me to open the door. When she swung her legs into the car, I was treated to a long expanse of slender leg visible through the open coat and skirt that was still not completely smoothed down. I banged my knee on the fender running around to the driver's side of the car.

Dinner progressed at an agonizingly slow pace. Mom made a meal out of ordering and savored every bite after it came. The process was repeated for dessert. After that, we had coffee and Mom ordered a second cup.

I have since learned that it's one thing when you're out on a date with an alluring woman, hoping to get lucky, but quite another when she implies at the outset that sex is assured. Hope makes the evening pass quickly but anticipation of a virtually sure thing is pure torture unless you have the maturity to savor it, which I didn't yet have. I was too worried that I'd do something to ruin a sure thing and that's why I tried to suppress thoughts about Mom's panties in my pocket and wondering why she had told me to fetch them. Did she not have panties on under the black skirt, did she want me to put them on her, later, in the car?

Every gesture, the shape of Mom's mouth and the way her lips moved when she spoke or smiled, the crook of her neck, all drove me nuts. My cock was already hard from my lecherous thoughts and Mom's unintentional teasing made it tingle many times during the evening. I watched her every step of the way to and from the lady's room, and when I made the trip myself, I found it difficult to walk on the way back when I saw Mom, twisted sideways in her seat with her legs crossed, one foot tapping to the music, as she watched the belly dancer.

It wasn't Lady Alexandra but after the dance she showed up, thanked the dancer and announced that Milo's had a special treat in store for everyone. She stopped by our table to ask Mom if she was ready.

"No, Carol. I'm not going to dance here tonight."

"But Lisa, you promised to do the Dance of the Seven Veils. Didn't you practice?"

"You know I did," Mom replied. She looked at me and added, "But now I know I can't do it for just anyone."

Lady Alexandra looked at me. "You mean, it's only for your son?"

Mom gazed steadily at Lady Alexandra. "I think you knew that when you first asked me to do it."

Carol just smiled.

"I'll give the costumes back after dinner."

"There's no hurry. Bring them around whenever it's convenient."

"They're in the car."

"There's no rush," Lady Alexandra insisted.

"We'll bring them when I'm done my coffee."

"Suit yourself. I'll be waiting."

The waiter came round not long after with some licorice candies and said the dinner was on the house, compliments of Lady Alexandra. Mom sent me out to the car with instructions to bring the bags in the trunk to Lady Alexandra's room. I fetched them but Mom and Carol weren't in the back, they were sitting in one of the two alcoves on either side of the entrance to the restaurant. Carol took the bag with the costumes.

"Can you give me a minute alone with your mother?" she asked.

I answered affirmatively and she motioned for me to wait in the opposite alcove so I went there and sat down, watching the two attractive women speak quietly to one another in confidence. At first, I thought it was just background babble from the restaurant but then I realized it was the conversation taking place in the opposite alcove, reaching me via the curved roof.

"I thought you had decided against it," Lady Alexandra said.

"Oh God, Carol. I'm all over the map. First I'm cold, then I'm shamelessly coming on to him. It's ridiculous. It can't go on like this."

"It is hard."

"I just don't want to put Curtis through the same things you said Mark went through."

"It was different for Mark. When he got married, he was leaving me behind, alone again. Curtis will just leave you with your husband again."​