I wonder if she’d be so blasé if she could see the despicable scenarios I’ve conjured up between us. How cool would she be if she knew I’d just thought about fucking her pussy with my hands all over her tits?
“But you’re my mum,” I groan, trying to do the right thing. “I shouldn’t think about you in that way.”
“I do believe,” my mother says with a smile. “It’s more common than you might imagine.” She lays a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she adds. “It really doesn’t bother me at all. I could be quite flattered actually.”
And I know it’s a joke. Her last line was a throw-away comment she used to lighten the mood. And she isn’t to know, but her touch has electrified me. I’m fully erect and churning inside. If it wasn’t for the robe, I’d be on her. It takes an immense effort of will not to lunge. If she’d been nude there would have been no stopping me. Her naked body would have been too much to resist.
“I still shouldn’t think it,” I manage to say.
She chuckles and pulls her hand back.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Sean. It doesn’t matter. Honestly, babe, you don’t have to feel embarrassed. I’d rather we talked and got everything out in the open than bottle things up. Besides,” she says, head tilting towards one shoulder. “Like I said, it’s just us. There’s nobody else to consider. What business is it of anyone else’s what we say behind these four walls? It’s like me being nude. I love the freedom. And inside my own home, who am I bothering?
Except you, of course,” she finishes with a grin.
There’s an upsurge of emotion inside me. “You’re incredible,” I mumble, which is the second I resolve to fight off the pervasive thoughts and imaginings. I’m suddenly filled with determination. I love my mother; I’m proud of her. She’s strong and courageous — and who am I to dictate how she behaves?
My mother looks at me. She’s puzzled when I say, “You shouldn’t listen to me.”
She blinks and frowns, then says, “What do you mean?”
I shrug while gurgling, “About it being inappropriate. You’ve always done it. I’m the one who’s changed. Besides, I don’t live here full-time. This is your home. If you want to walk around nude…”
She pulls back to eye me with doubt. “But what about … you know…” My mother gestures with her head. She nods towards my genitalia, inconspicuous but rampant under the sheet. “…your problem,” she finishes.
“It’s my problem,” I say, meaning it at the time. “I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I promise.”
My mother nods slowly. She stares off into nothing again, perfectly still for a few beats before rousing herself. “Thank you,” she smiles. “I’m so glad we can talk.”
“Me too,” I reply, a little surprised when I realise my mother had been right. “I feel … lighter,” I tell her.
“I’m glad,” she says, leaning in.
I’m stunned when her lips brush my cheek. The heat comes off her, my mother’s scent lingering when she stands and nods down at me.
“See,” she says with a smile, “it was worth me coming in and forcing a talk, wasn’t it?”
It was and it wasn’t. When she leaves me lying there I’m already wondering why I let on it was all right for her to carry on in the nude. My newfound resolve has evaporated already.