“You’re such a sweetheart,” I said.
He again took a lengthy look at my full nylon-clad leg before unbuckling my strap.
Once it was off, I again wiggled my toes and watched as he stared at them. He was indeed a nylon foot fetish freak like his father.
Deciding to push it further, I asked, “My feet are killing me from wearing these heels. Would you be willing to give your old bag of a mother a foot massage?”
“Sure,” he nodded, before adding, “and you’re hardly old, Mom.”
“Thanks honey,” I said, “but I feel ancient.”
“Mom, you need to get back out in the dating world. It’s been two years,” he said, his eyes never leaving my legs.
I sat on the end of the couch, flipped my legs up onto his lap, right on his crotch and said, “Finding a good man is nearly impossible.”
He groaned, but covered well, as I felt his cock flinch under my heel, “But you have to at least try.”
As he took my left foot in his hands, I said, “Just the thought of it exhausts me. Plus, any man I dated I would compare to your father. He was one of a kind.”
“Yeah, he was,” he nodded, the tone quickly shifting to sadness.
We were both silent for a couple of minutes while he massaged my feet. I noticed him take many quick glimpses up my legs. But I pretended to not notice. Eventually, I said, “So are you and Brittany serious?”
He replied, “Not really.”
“Just friends with benefits?” I asked, a term I had learned recently.
“Yeah, something like that,” he said, smiling for the first time.
“I could use a friend with benefits situation,” I sighed.
“Mom!” he said, surprised by his usually conservative mother’s words.
“What?” I asked, “your Mom has needs too.”
“Oh my God,” he said, “I can’t believe we are having this conversation.”
“It’s your fault,” I accused.
“How?” he asked, surprised I was blaming him.
“Listening to you fuck your girlfriend woke up my sleeping,” I paused for the right word choice and dramatic effect, “kitty.”
“What’s got into you?” he asked, even as he kept massaging my feet and checking out my legs.
“It’s not what’s gotten into me, it’s what hasn’t,” I quipped playfully.
He laughed, “This is not a conversation I thought I would ever have.”
Hinting at what I really wanted, I said, my foot ever so subtlety pushing down on his iron hard cock stuck in his pants, “Well, you’re the man of the house now, Cody.”
I could see his head spinning. I could tell he was wondering if my foot move was on purpose. He was wondering what exactly I meant by my words.
I continued, “Now that you’re eighteen and an adult, I do need you to be the one in charge here sometimes.”
“Okay,” he nodded, clearly confused by what I meant.
“And that means listening to frank conversations with your mother,” I finished, before adding, “even if those conversations gross you out.”
“They don’t gross me out,” he said. “They just came out of the blue.”
“Well, so did you ass fucking your girlfriend in the room beside me,” I quipped, as I moved my feet away and stood up.
He actually laughed.
“What?” I asked, now standing up in front of him.
“I have never heard you swear before this past couple of days other than ‘shit’ a couple of times,” he said.