His mind kept replaying her last line at dinner: a woman wouldn’t mind being taken advantage of by the right man.
She had looked him over in the shower like she was memorizing him. She had stood there close enough to reach out and touch the glass. Was it possible? Could she actually want him the way he wanted her?
If there was even a chance, he wasn’t going to hesitate. Taboos be damned. He loved her. He had always wanted her. If she wanted him too, he would take her tonight and never look back.
From the hallway her voice floated in, “Mark, I’m going to put on my comfy clothes.”
He stared into the growing flames. “Take your time.”
***
In her bedroom Linda shut the door and leaned back against it for a second. Her heart was racing again. She stripped off her sweater and jeans, and let them drop to the floor.
He had said it out loud: her ass, her breasts. He said they were perfect. And in the shower he had come groaning “Oh, Mom.”
She wanted him. God, she wanted him. She wanted her son’s thick cock in her mouth. And she wanted him deep inside her. Rules, society, who cared? If his wife wasn’t meeting his needs, she would. A mother should take care of her son. If he wanted her, she was his. And she was about to find out whether he really wanted her.
She pulled off her bra and panties and slipped into the light-gray ribbed knit pajamas she saved for lazy weekends. They fit like a second skin. She turned in front of the mirror and gave her reflection a small, wicked smile. She headed for the living room.
***
The fire in the living room was cozy and warm, throwing orange light across the walls. Mark sat on the big, soft sectional sofa that faced the fireplace. He had one arm stretched along the back, and his wine glass rested on his thigh. The robe only covered him to mid-thigh. The belt was knotted but loose. The top gaped enough to show the center of his chest.
He looked up when his mom’s bare feet padded into the room and across the hardwood floor.
She had changed into light-gray ribbed knit pajamas. The fabric clung to her thighs and molded to the full, heavy shape of her ass, the seam disappearing between her ass cheeks. There was no panty line in sight.
Her long-sleeve top had a deep V-neck. Her breasts filled the front completely, the weight of them shifting with each step she took. The ribbed knit was thin enough that the outlines of her nipples were obvious, and her nipples were obviously hard.
The firelight painted warm gold over her and made the gray pajamas look almost silver where it reflected off the fabric.
Mark’s eyes moved slowly from her face down over the swell of her breasts, her narrow waist, her hips, and her round ass cheeks. He didn’t try to hide his stare. And she moved slowly across the room in a way that invited him to look.
Linda felt Mark’s look like a hand sliding over her body. She sat on the sectional beside him, close enough that the cushion dipped and her thigh touched his.
She reached for the wine glass he had poured for her.
For a long moment the only sound was the fire popping and the wind rattling the windows.