Mom son: Love is within reach but requires a catalyst to come alive

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Then came that momentous evening.

I was getting ready to go out to a movie with Sam, when I realized that I had left the stove on. I rushed down to the kitchen to turn it off before the food I had prepared for my son and his father [yes, there is a father, don’t ask] got burnt. Thankfully, everything was okay, so I took the pot off the stove and went back to my room to finish getting ready.

As I was climbing the stairs I heard my son yell, “Mom, there are men present in the house.”

“Sorry, son,” I replied and rushed into my bedroom. Only after I was standing in front of the mirror did I realize what had just happened. I had rushed down to the kitchen in my bra and panties. When I realized that my state of undress had actually solicited a response from my son, the kind of response that I had ached to get before, I felt this immense joy. It was an incredible feeling to know that I had succeeded in getting that hint, meagre as it may be. One huge smile spread across my face as I looked at my figure in the mirror, as I observed my breasts oozing out of my bra, as I saw my pubic hair coming through the lace of my panties and as I discovered that my lips were quite visible underneath the see-through material. I gave a muffled scream—a scream of joy.

“So, this is how far I had to go to get that elusive validation,” I exclaimed to myself.

Actually I didn’t know if his response really meant anything, because he could simply be offended by my look; although, I found it very difficult that I could offend him so easily. I believed what I wanted to believe; and I wanted to believe that my son didn’t want to see me so naked because it was having an abnormal effect on him, the kind he is not supposed to have.

Well, well, well! May be he did find me sexually…something. I felt my chest fill with pride as I felt all gloom lift from my spirit. It took so little to invigorate me so much. I was happy to know that I was able to attract a man as exciting as my son, a man who could be classified as a man of my dreams.

I came down wearing my black skirt, red blouse, and matching red high heels. I stood in front of him, grinning from ear to ear, excitement turning me all red, posing like a beauty pageant contestant, and asked him, “Is this better?”

“Much better.”

I left, giddy as a school girl. Samantha was shocked to see me so cheerful but I couldn’t tell her the reason behind my being so happy. So I told her I was happy to be out of the house and with her, which she understood because she could identify with it.

I came home late. The whole house was dark as everyone was sleeping. I wasn’t sleepy, though. I actually wanted to see him before going to bed, but I didn’t want to go to his room in case he was still awake. I had no reason for being there. I didn’t want to go to my room either. I just wanted to revel in the knowledge that I had—finally—gotten a response from my potent, handsome young man just from the way I looked, the way my body looked. A thought in the back of my mind said that may be I was reading too much into things, but that thought was quickly and easily crushed.

I took my shoes off and kicked them under the stairs. I didn’t even notice the noise my action made because my mind was somewhere else. I removed my blouse and skirt and hung them on the banister. I then moved to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. After turning the lights on, I stood in front of the fridge reliving in my mind the moment he saw me dressed so scantily. I wished I had seen his face, only if to verify what was going through his mind. I was feeling good about myself. I was feeling good about my thoughts of him. I didn’t feel guilt or shame about my sexual arousal, and yes, I was aroused, very much so.

I moved from the fridge to the coffee maker. I poured some water into the coffee maker and leaned against the counter as I waited for it to finish making coffee. I was so lost in my own world that I didn’t even realize when all the water had dripped through. I was busy wondering how my son would react if he saw me again undressed the way I was at that very moment. I even contemplated taking the last two pieces off to experience total lack of inhibition.

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