“You’re just saying that to make me feel good?”, she said with an odd rising intonation which made it sound more like a question.
“Tell you what, I’ll print some of these off tonight, and if you bring home a couple of those cool lingerie catalogues your team make, then we can, like, compare your legs with those of professional stocking models? What do you say?”
“If I can remember love?” she said casually. But I caught a glint of exhilaration in her eyes that assured me she would.
By the time I had put away my camera, laid the table and sat down, Mum came in with a pot of tea in one hand and my hot cooked breakfast in the other.
I glanced down at her legs only to be disappointed. She had replaced her heels and stockings with boring tan tights and her usual flat work shoes.
Tan tights? Jeez! Who the fuck cares about tan tights and flat shoes? Tights are airless, sweaty, inaccessible and fucking ugly. Flat shoes lower the hips and destroy the erotic silhouette of a beautiful woman.
But as usual I said nothing, my eyes now fixated on the cooked breakfast. But inside, my mind whirled with dreamy images of her posing for me in those alluring stockings and suspenders, and the tantalising glimpses of her sexy ass.
Surely there couldn’t be one guy in a million who could get his sexy mother to take off her nickers for him!
Did I imagine it?
That was my Monday morning.
It was impossible to concentrate at college for the rest of that day. My mind kept returning to Mum. Each time I thought of her stockings I had another erection. I was so close to seeing her pussy that I had to jerk off twice in the lavatories to ease the overwhelming thrills of excitement filling my imagination.
Mum was already waiting in the car at the college gates when I came out in the late afternoon.
Almost without thinking I glanced down at her legs and was electrified to see she was again wearing stockings.
Her working skirt was hitched up just enough to reveal stocking tops and the straps of her fastens. Her shining raven hair was styled in a classic elegant french twist, emphasising the beautiful arch of her neck.
Before starting the car she asked me to pass her handbag to her from the back seat.
Releasing my seatbelt I twisted around, stretching an arm across to retrieve the handbag from the rear seat. It was then I saw she had brought a small stack of lingerie magazines. I smiled inwardly knowing we would be discussing our lingerie preferences later.
Turning back to face front again I handed her the handbag.
“Jeez. What do you keep in there?” I said, “It must weigh, like a ton!”
“A girl must keep some secrets from her man,”she said, shooting me a smile. “Besides, you don’t want to go rooting in this dustbin love, you never know what you’ll find!”
Then she rummaged around in the bag for a half minute or so before retrieving a lipstick and perfume atomiser.
Aware I was watching, she reached up and twisted the rear view mirror towards her. Then slowly and deliberately she removed the top of the lipstick.