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

“Probably the one good thing Dad taught me,” I grinned. “Being tight with money.”

“You’ll lose your bedroom, your own bathroom,” she acknowledged.

“I’ll move into the spare room,” I countered. “And we can share your bathroom can’t we!?”

She paused as she rolled her eyes around the room as if searching for one more reason to not commit. Seemingly finding none.

“Can we really do this?” She posed.

“Yes!” I emphatically replied and lay my hands palm up on the table before her.

She studied my eyes for a moment before she caved and reached for my hands, seemingly no longer concerned about hiding her breasts.

“Yes,” she beamed.

“Yes?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Yes,” she rose from her chair and leaned across the table, the kiss upon my lips so unexpected and yet so seemingly normal for the occasion. It wasn’t passionate. No open mouthed embrace, but I treasured the spontaneity. The innocent declaration of affection, of gratitude, of love.

I stood as she pulled away and loathe to relinquish our connection, held one of her hands as she circled the table. I knew what was coming and hoped I didn’t ruin it with an uncontrollable symbol of my desire. Namely, I hoped I didn’t get an erection as we hugged.

She wasn’t entirely unaware of her attire and with her free hand she made an effort to right the wrong that had occurred as she sat. The bottom of the nightie had ridden up and as she took the three steps to come face to face with me I saw her vagina as bare as could be. Waxed smooth, such pale skin, and the shadow of darkness between her upper labia. Her attempt to conceal partially working as her nightie pulled down on an angle leaving her only half covered. She didn’t seem fazed.

“Are we really doing this?” She asked as I took her against my body, the softness of her breasts pressing my chest. My hands gripped the lace upon her back. Silky to the touch, the heat of her flesh below.

“I hope so,” I whispered into her hair, as her cheek brushed past my own. I felt her breath upon my neck and I thought of the cinema as I inhaled her perfume. My hands upon her lower back, I moved one subtly and my little finger touched bare skin, undoubtably the top of her buttock uncovered by the lingerie. She pulled back, not due to the touch but to look me in the eyes, her breasts just below my line of sight. I could feel her groin pressed against my own and the contact was intimate. This was no ordinary cuddle.

“You do understand this means you’ll be my boss,” she smiled. My hands had slid back around, now holding her just above the hips, her own linked behind my neck and I started to panic at the development below. Any moment she’d feel it.

I’d be her boss, I repeated in my head. I could tell her what to do. Jesus, what to wear. In those few seconds my mind reeled with possibilities and did nothing to lessen my swelling, nay, encouraged it.

“We’d be partners,” I maturely corrected her and it seemed to take her breath away.

“I’d like that,” she sighed. “For us to be partners,” she added and I couldn’t but think she meant in more ways than just business.