“Last time I checked the zip didn’t go that low Jack,” she said, giving her ass a sexy wiggle, “Come on, zip me up love or I’ll be late!”
Reluctantly I withdrew my hand, but took a quick sniff of my finger before returning to the zip. It smelled of shower gel, perfume and just a tiny hint of her rosebud.
Inevitably I got an erection and was sorely tempted to put my arms around her and kiss her neck.
The zip hesitated near the top so I stepped forward to gain more purchase, my prick pressing against the cheeks of her curvy ass.
Mum must have felt it as she seemed to press back onto me increasing the erotic sensation I was already trying to control.
She shimmied sexily as I took hold of the small zip and slid it up to the top. With the back of my other hand I caressed the soft lanugo hair on her pale neck.
After the zip was secured she turned around and blew my mind.
The dress had a graceful but low-cut neckline. She must have been wearing a push-up bra which forced her breasts together and upwards, like those 18th century paintings of French aristocracy beauties whose breasts pushed out like small melons.
I think that was the moment I first needed to fuck her. I don’t know where the urgency came from but it washed away any satisfaction with just looking at her and her clothes.
The primeval instinct to rut.
My heart thumped hard against my ribs, rushing blood to all the muscles, ready for me to grab her with animal strength and raw lust. My prick was rock hard and pulsed against my stomach – ready for action.
A madness.
Quite how I held back from forcing her down on the bed and pushing up her skirt I shall never know. Those breasts were so inviting, so close to touch. I knew I could rip the front of that dress open with both hands then slake 18 years of desire in a couple of minutes.
I was close, very close to the point when the animal brain blanks out any thoughts of guilt or conscience and becomes deaf to cries of pain or suffering.
My face must have changed as the blood drained away, needed elsewhere urgently.
Luckily Mum must have realised that at that moment I was not her obedient son, but a huge, hairy, Viking warrior intent on rape and pillage.
Then she broke the tension by asking softly if I was feeling okay?
If she had made the mistake of even brushing a hand against my prick I would have raped her without a moments thought.
Instead we stood looking into each other’s eyes, saying nothing, hands down to our sides.
Gradually the madness passed. My heart rate slowed and muscles began to relax.
Colour slowly flowed back into my face.
My breathing slowed as I stepped back from the abyss.
After a while my erection became flaccid.
But from that moment we both understood that one way or another we would have to fuck, and very soon.
The hard way or the easy way.
That the teasing had become close to taking.
Much later, Mum confided that she had sensed my overwhelming desire for her, and recognised I was about to lose control.
She had been pushing my turbulent emotions too hard and realised she had to ease off the pressure on me, or her plans would be destroyed in one moment of brutal orgy.