“You’re just saying that because I’m your mother,” I said, fishing for more compliments, as I brought a plate to him.
“Trust me, Mom,” he said, glancing down at my stocking-clad feet. “I’m not saying it because you’re my mom.”
“You really think I’m pretty?” I asked, as I moved away far enough to give him a chance to check out my entire body.
“Mom, you’re hot. A MILF,” he said, checking me out very unlike what a son should do.
Although I knew what a MILF was, I asked all innocently, “What’s a MILF?”
“A Mom I’d Like to Fuck,” he answered.
“Oh!” I said, acting surprised, again in full actress mode.
“All my friends want to fuck you,” he continued.
“No way,” I said, actually surprised by this.
“All throughout high school that was all I heard,” he continued, “how hot my mom was.”
“Well, I guess it’s better than having an ugly mother,” I joked, as I went to the table with my plate and sat down.
He laughed, “I guess.”
I asked about his day. He asked about mine. We kept the conversation generic.
He told me he was going out with Brittany tonight just as dinner was finished.
I couldn’t help it, I felt jealous. I asked, “Do you plan to bring her back home tonight and fuck her ass again?”
He was surprised by my question.
“You can if you wish,” I continued. “This is your house too, and you are the man of the house. You should be able to fuck who you want, when you want.”
“Really?” he asked, still in surprised mode.
I couldn’t tell if he could tell that I was offering myself to him or not. My innuendo was getting less and less subtle.
“Yes,” I nodded, standing up. “You’re eighteen. You’re an adult.”
“Um, okay,” he nodded.
I decided to push the boundaries even more. “And as man of the house, I’m expecting you to man up more around the house.”
“Yes, Mom,” he nodded, taking it as helping around the house more, when I meant fucking the woman of the house’s three fuck holes.
“Good that’s clear,” I said, before adding, “and feel free to fuck her in your room.”
“Really?” he asked again.
“Yes, I may not be getting any, but at least I can live vicariously through your ass slut girlfriend,” I added.
“Mom!” he gasped.
“What?” I asked. “I’ll pretend you are your father and I am the slut.”
“I can’t believe we are having this conversation,” he said, again looking at my nylon clad legs and feet.
“I’ve been holding this in for years,” I explained. “Adult talk. But hearing what I heard the other night woke up my sleeping kitty.”
“Oh my God!” he said, standing up.
“Isn’t that what Brittany screamed as you reamed her ass?” I teased.
Suddenly he quipped, apparently wanting me to know he was well equipped, “All the sluts I fuck scream that.”
“Mmmmmmm,” I smiled, before adding, “its great to be able to talk so frankly with you, honey.” I moved to him and gave him a hug. I felt his hard cock poking my leg.
“Oh my, apparently you’re already ready for your date,” I said.
His confidence oozing, obviously realizing he was free to say whatever he wanted, “I’m always ready, Mom. Always.”
“Oh, to have my own eighteen year old,” I sighed dramatically.