Family Business: Son comes up with a scheme to help his mother

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I chose the former.

“So that’s everything?” I enquired. “Thought you said you bought three bras.” I watched her cheeks again turn a shade of pink and she picked up her fork to take a mouthful of the side salad.

“Oh I just picked up something else for myself,” she explained after she had swallowed. “Not work related.”

Did I let it go? The Lincoln of two days prior would possibly have avoided the conversation completely. The Lincoln today jumped at the opportunity.

“Oh yeah?” I didn’t need to feign interest and I again waited for her to swallow. There was some hesitation from her, it was obvious, before her hand was back in the bag and partly pulled out a pink bra and what looked to be a matching thong.

“Oh and a new nightie,” she threw away the line as her hand revealed transparent red lace which she quickly returned to its hiding place.

‘A nightie,’ I thought to myself. No. That was lingerie, and I made a pact with myself I would see her wearing it or die trying!

*

“I made you a cup of tea,” I called as she passed the lounge room. Her shower had been noticeably longer than usual, not that I was one to keep tabs on these kind of things and I’d waited forever for her to leave her bedroom. “It’s probably ready to drink,” I added, a subtle hint I’d been anticipating her.

“Oh thanks,” she doubled back. “I was just about to do that.”

Had I been expecting her to wear the red lace nightie? You’re damn right I was but I wasn’t devastated when she entered the living room wearing her regular flannel pajamas. She’d not washed her hair in the shower yet it was wet around her face and neck, loosely tied back, long strands framing her cheeks. Her feet were bare as she drew them up onto the couch alongside me, toenails painted red.

“What are you watching?” Her eyes remained fixed to the screen as she gripped the mug in both hands, sipping and finding the temperature to her liking and drinking more.

“Nothing really, some cop show,” I informed her. “I can change it if you want.”

“It’s fine, I’ll go to bed after this,” she nodded to her tea.

“It’s only just gone 8:30,” I reminded her and she shifted in her position, both legs bent at the knee, one raised. If I was to stare for longer than the seconds I was comfortably able, I’d see her pussy pressed hard into the crotch of her long pajama bottoms. “Tired from today?” I added trying to keep our conversation going.

“Ugh, you have no idea,” she replied and I did once again use up my allotted few seconds. Was she wearing panties beneath them? I wondered. I thought of her in the kitchen, rising after the meal and our underwear talk. Yes she wore no bra, that was obvious by looking without her needing to admit. But she’d left out the fact she’d not worn panties to work that day as well. No pantyline or shadow as there’d been the night before. Of course she may’ve been wearing some kind of micro g-string but the camel-toe she displayed when I stole a peek from the front pretty much convinced me otherwise. I didn’t blame her for not discussing this morsel with her son. What mother would?

Her feet arched on the couch beside me, making ‘fists with her toes,’ to quote Bruce Willis and I wondered if it was a subliminal (or to be honest, blatant) reminder of her foot massage suggestion of the night before?

“Feet hurt?” I casually asked, looking at the television to suggest I wasn’t completely obsessed with her.

“Killing me,” she admitted. “I’ll wear the other pair tomorrow, see if they’re any better.”

“Well come on then,” I grumbled, reaching out for a foot as she gasped in surprised delight. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Oh Honey I wasn’t serious,” she laughed. “You don’t have to do that,” she added, I noticed not attempting to drag her foot away from my hands.

“It’s alright,” I chuckled. “The first one’s on the house.”

She stretched her right leg out and it enabled me to pull her foot up onto me, her heel pressing my thigh as I pushed my thumbs into the sole.

“Ooh, God,” she moaned as I ran them up her arch to her toes. “I’d pay anything.”

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