She didn’t pull her hand away, so we walked the rest of the forty minute walk with our fingers entwined.
When the tour ended, the night had become quite chilly, and Mom was shivering, so we got a taxi to take us back to the hotel (the walk would have been about twenty minutes and that was if we didn’t get lost… the streets went in all directions and it was easy to end up off target, I still sometimes got lost, even after a few months of living here).
In the taxi, I pulled her into my arms and said, “You’re freezing.”
“I don’t think I dressed for such an evening,” she said as she pushed into me for warmth.
Deciding to continue my snail’s pace seduction of my mother, I moved my hand to her nylon clad leg and began moving my hand up and down, pretending to be warming up her leg.
She seemed slightly surprised at first, but I said, “Your legs must be freezing.”
She giggled slightly, “Yes, nylon is not the best attire to keep you warm.”
“But it is the sexiest,” I quipped, again giving just a hint of my plan.
“They are, are they?” Mom asked, surprised by my words.
“Oh yeah,” I nodded, “it’s the first thing I notice on a woman, their legs, especially in nylons… which is probably your fault.”
“My fault?” She asked, looking at me.
“Well, you were always wearing them, and, according to many psychological theories, sons often are drawn to women who resemble their mothers,” I explained, going even further, “truth be told, I have always had a nylon foot fetish.”
“Well, I guess you’re just like your father,” she laughed.
“Is he a nylon person too?” I asked.
“If I go a day without wearing them, he is not happy,” she answered.
I already knew she was submissive based on the video of her and Mrs. Raske, but the idea that she was submissive to Dad was new. “Interesting,” I nodded.
“Why is that interesting?” She asked.
“It’s just that I assumed you wore them because you liked them and they accentuated your sexy legs.”
“I’ve grown to love wearing them,” she nodded, before adding, “did you just call my legs sexy?”
“Mom, you have amazing legs,” I said, “I’d be lying if I said I’d never stared at your legs before.”
“Oh,” she said, as if trying to process this piece of information.
Deciding to continue my sly seduction, I moved my hand up to the top of her lace thigh highs. “Oh, thigh highs.”
She moved away suddenly, but didn’t say anything.
I complimented, continuing my slow seduction, as we reached the hotel, “Thigh highs are super sexy, I expect all my women to wear them.”
“All your women?” She questioned, clearly surprised by my choice of words.
“Girls like to understand their position,” I answered, before getting out of the taxi to allow those words to marinate.
I took Mom’s arm again and led her into the hotel, up the elevator and to the hotel room.
Mom immediately took her boots off, as she said, “My feet are literally killing me.”
A witty comment about getting on her back popped into my head, but instead I focused on a more sly approach. “Lie down on the bed Mom and I’ll give you a foot massage.”