Having another moment of panic at what was being said to me (this time due to the fact that Mom was speaking metaphorically as well as literally just now), I simply nodded my head, as I didn’t trust my voice not to be constricted by fear. She gave me a kiss on the cheek as I pulled myself away and went to sit at the table. “So, if Rheta picked out my outfit, when did you buy it? You two didn’t have time to go shopping between Wednesday when I suggested doing this and now, so how long have you been planning this, and what is this?” I asked, hoping their plans wouldn’t conflict with my own.
Sitting across from me at the table, Mom gave me a curious look. “We got these outfits for us over the summer. Rheta had this silly notion that you would want to take us out for the evening to someplace classy; she wanted to get something that said we were sophisticated and sexy.” Mom explained further, “Your sister doesn’t want to admit it, but she has a crush on you and she wanted to have the both of you looking your best for whenever this night came.”
“Wow,” I said earnestly (half because I was surprised that Mom had told me this, and half because clearly if I played my cards right, tonight certainly wouldn’t be a one-off). “Now I definitely need to be the best date tonight. But what about you Mom?” I asked, causing her to look to me strangely. “What are you hoping for tonight? Is there anything I could do to make you feel like you’re on an actual date with this handsome stranger before you?”
Mom laughed at my lame joke, but reached across the table all the same and took my hand in hers. “Just that, baby. Make me laugh at things that make me forget you’re my son.” A smoldering look passed across her eyes, as she leveled another look at me that seemed to say more than just what was being verbally said. My mother was definitely giving me some form of ‘fuck me’ eyes, and I was thoroughly enjoying seeing that expression on her face directed squarely at me.
Before I could no longer hold myself back and just jump her bones however, I glanced back to the stove clock and saw that Rheta’s 20 minutes were just about up. Standing up and going to the cupboard that held the trivets, I pulled one out and placed it on the table in the centre. Moving to the oven, I slipped on some oven mitts, turned the oven off and pulled the lasagna out. Grabbing the tray of garlic bread, I slipped that into the now off oven and closed it. Picking up the lasagna again, I took it off the stovetop and brought it over to the table and placed it on the trivet I’d just retrieved.
I was about to go and grab a spatula to serve the lasagna, when the distinct clack of high heels drew my attention back to the entrance from the hall. Walking into the kitchen in the most graceful way was Rheta. I thank God everyday that I had nothing in my hands to drop, because everything in me just dropped the moment I saw her; my hands, jaw and blood all dropped to the floor as she walked into the room. The increase of blood to my lower half had the typical result of most of it ending up in my hardening dick, and my being painfully erect in two-seconds flat. Even in her bikinis from the summer, Rheta had never gotten me so hard so quick, and I was extremely grateful for the island that hid me from view of both my mother and sister.
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