Unspoken Pleasure

Fuck, there were too many variables to digest, so I tried to slow down my thoughts as I descended from the top of the stairs into the TV-lit foyer and living room. Mom, sitting on the back couch with her back against the armrest, turned her head to the left and gave me a long look. I smiled, and she watched me as I walked around the couch and sat opposite her. She had her knees up and together, along with her calves and feet, creating a wall that hid her panties from my eyes.

I leaned back against the couch’s arm, bringing my feet onto the couch. Mom looked at me, watching as the soft light flashed across my body. Dad yawned.

“Did you already take your pill?” I asked my dad.

“Yeah,” he yawned again. “I haven’t had a good sleep in days.”

I hadn’t noticed–what an asshole I was.

“Gonna go upstairs?” I asked.

“You want the TV?”

“No.” I shook my head, though he was lying on his back with his head on a pillow, staring at the TV. “Just making conversation.”

“Make it when the show’s over,” he said. “If I last that long.”

I nodded and turned back to Mom. She was still looking at me, and even though the living was dark, and I wouldn’t have been able to see much had she spread her legs for me, I nodded at her knees anyway. Mom tilted her head, and I lifted my hands, placed my palms together, then spread my fingers open by tilting them away from each other. Mom widened her eyes, and then she looked toward the TV. I sighed without making a sound, extending my right foot and nudging her left toes. Mom brought her feet back, and when they ran out of the room, she turned on her cushion and lowered her feet to the floor.

Damn it!

Was it because of Dad?

It had to be.

Or maybe she needed reassurance that I hadn’t done anything with Jenna–over the phone. How was I going to do that? Fuck it, I was going to press my luck, and I could assure Mom later that her son had followed her rules, mostly. Was talking dirty to my willing eighteen-year-old girlfriend going to get her pregnant? No!

I sighed again, a little louder this time. Mom didn’t look at me, and neither did Dad. I lowered my back down the armrest to my shoulders, and I stretched out my legs, pulling short of touching Mom with my feet. Her skirt lay a tiny bit above the middle of her lap, both atop and along the sides, while the back lay bunched against the back of the couch. The pleats were perfect and rectangular, layered, her long legs illuminated by the bluish-silver of the TV light.

Like moonlight.

When was Mom going to pull her skirt up? She wasn’t sitting on it, so it wasn’t like her movement would disturb Dad. Not that he’d notice by the way he was lying.

Time ticked by, the show went on, and Dad yawned.

Any day now, I thought, throwing my silent words at my mother.

Was she mad at me for touching her today? I had pushed it. Or, if not mad, was she having second thoughts? This game had barely started, so there was only one way to find out. I extended my right foot, the one closest to the back of the couch, with a slower-than-normal motion, making sure that my mother would notice me coming from the corner of her eyes. She did. Her lips twitched, but was she attempting to hide a smile, or had they tightened? She didn’t look at me, so I continued forward.

My big toe touched the hem of her skirt along the side of her thigh. Mom took a deep breath, her apple-sized breasts moving up and down, the tightness of her shirt accentuating the buoyant under-curve of her breasts. I imagined how they’d give under my fingers caresses, and my cock sprung forward as if trying to have a better look as my mother’s goods.

I moved my foot toward the back of the couch, pulling Mom’s skirt with me, baring her skin. Mom’s head tilted to the left, her eyes down for a moment before looking forward again. I kept moving her skirt, back and back, back as far as the curve of her ass and exposing the naked side of her left cheek. She must have been wearing a thong or nothing. The thought made my balls warm as my thoughts went back to my mother’s perfect cheek. When I ran my toe across my mother’s skin, she brought her left hand down and pushed my foot away, but she didn’t move her skirt back into place.

Good.

My cock had stretched out during this time, filling with wall-throbbing strength and turning my skin slinky into a hungry flesh pipe. Oh, man, but I wasn’t going to last a week away from Jenna at this rate. No fucking way.

I extended my foot again, touching my Mom’s thigh by her knee. She looked down as I slid my toe along her leg, her lips parting as she let out a long breath. Her head turned a little when I reached her butt cheek, and I saw her throat move in a swallowing motion when I brushed her flesh to the far curve of her ass. Her hand moved, but not before I traced the line of her soft backside upward.

“Does anyone want a drink?” Mom said, a touch out of breath and standing quickly. Her skirt fell back into place. “Rich? Mark?

“No, thanks,” Dad mumbled.

“I’m okay,” I said, studying my mother’s profile and the hardened protrusion of her left nipple.

Mom walked to the right, her back to me as she left the living room and entered the dining room, then turned to the right, out of sight beyond the narrower entryway before heading into the kitchen.

I waited a minute before I said, “I think I could use a drink.”Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.