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Just moments later I saw it: a pair of tiny blue panties, emerging from below the hem of mom's elegant dress and stretched between her knees. "I can't forget that conversation, or what happened after it." "Good," I said.

Then I saw one hand reach quickly up under the dress. But you also told me dad didn't like it, and after that day you didn't do it any more when you were married." I paused again.

Of course, it was impossible to get the images of that moment out of my head, and the next day I'd felt like a ravenous beast, wanting more of her. Our busy schedules got in the way, and during the brief times we were together over the next few days I had the impression from mom that she needed a break from the craziness. He brought mom a green salad with vinaigrette and me a seasonal squash soup with a dribble of crème fraiche over the surface. that word." Mom looked at me across the table, steadily, with a hint of a frown.

The waiter left, and we sampled our first courses for a couple of minutes in silence.

While she took the call, I looked out at the partly shaded patio around me and thought about the previous week. I mean, I did want to fuck her, very, very badly, but I wanted something else, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. She had shown me something in her, and I wanted to tease it out, encourage it, bring it to full flower. I thought about it a lot, and I finally figured out a plan for the next step. I just keep thinking about what we did in the shower the other day." She leaned over the table. I just keep thinking how slutty I must have looked to you.

Only five days earlier mom and I had lain on the shower floor while she had given me a foot job. My cock got a workout from my hand several times a day, to ease my agitation. Because, whatever mom's hesitation was, I knew I wanted to take another step, and that I was going to. And that's what brought me to lunch with my mom on a sunny, pleasant fall day on the patio of a trendy restaurant. Before either of us could say anything, the waiter arrived. What a slut I must seem like to you now." "Mom," I said, "you sound like you're trying to convince me that you are a slut.

She looked at me intently, with eyes wide and searching and her lips pressed tightly against each other. "It's just -- everything we've done together recently.

I swallowed it, with some effort, and I looked up at my mom. Mom took a moment to marshal her thoughts before answering me. But she made no mention of the things we had done together, things I couldn't stop thinking about. Mom got a phone call, and she said it was someone from work and that she had to take it. But I thought I could overcome her resistance, or, maybe more accurately, that I could say and do the right things to make her overcome her own resistance. " "Mom, "I said, putting on a lascivious grin for her, "Take off your panties. Then she looked over my shoulder, and then to either side of her. Mom exhaled a short, sharp breath of air, and then she put both of her hands under the table on either side of her dress. After what seemed like ages, the familiar ping sounded. I saw the struggle in her face, but her desire won out. " "After the things we've done together, mom," I said, "I can tell it's something you still want to do, but you weren't able to do it married to dad, and you haven't been able to do it until now." She kept staring back at me, trying to maintain an impassive expression. My eyes were fixed on my own phone, waiting for the text to appear. The image on my phone screen was darker than I wished it was, the result of mom not having used a flash when she took the photo. But it was unmistakably a photograph of my hot mom's pussy under her blue skirt.

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