“Did you ever think about getting a boob job?”
“I never did. I thought they’d look big and stupid on me, but now that I look around at all these beautiful girls, I don’t know.”
The waitress came around and took our order. I was glad to be getting a drink. I was sitting on my son’s lap with my nipples poking out of my top, and he had a hand between my legs that he was slowly working up my thighs.
The waitress came back, and as I was reaching for my drink, he brushed a finger across my panties. I almost dropped my cocktail before I had a chance to grab it. He was getting quite brazen, but amazingly, I sat there and let him do it.
I grabbed his face by the chin and brought my lips dangerously close to his. “Keep you fingers out of my panties,” I commanded. “I know what you’re thinking. Not here!”
“Okay. Okay,” he stammered with this big arrogant smile on his face. “Can I have a kiss instead?”
“If you must.” I said deliciously, and then I lightly touched my lips to his. But then he brought a hand around the back of my head and pushed our lips together. I felt my son’s tongue in my mouth for the first time. And as I met it with my own, he again brushed a finger across the front of my panties.
Alerted, I pulled my lips far enough away to whisper. “You promised.”
“They aren’t in your panties.” And then he pushed our lips back together and I made out with my son as he lightly stroked my labia through the thin material of my lace panties. And he was a real good kisser.
“Let’s get a lap dance?” He proclaimed after sucking on my tongue for about five minutes.
“No, no, no-no!”
“Why not?”
“What do you think, that I’m a lesbian?”
“You don’t have to be…” He started on his argument, but I cut him short.
“NO!”
“But I wanted a lap dance, Mom.”
“Forget it.” I knew that I didn’t want a naked woman straddling me. I was already confused about things that night, but I also was sure that I didn’t want some hot young thing grinding on my boy. Okay, I admit it, I was being possessive. This was our night.
“Please? It’s my birthday.”
“I tell you what, I’ll give you a lap dance.”
“You? Where?” He asked with his attention peeked.
“In the limo on the way home.”
“Really?”
“You’d like that, huh?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to do it for you,” I said in a tolerant tone that was all show.
“You know ma, the girls are topless when they give you a lap dance.”
I looked at him as he was looking at my tits, and I swallowed hard. “Yes, I know.”
“Then I accept, Mom.”
“So we’re back to mom again? No more Susan?”
“No,” he blushed.
“And that’s what you want, you want your mother giving you a lap dance in the back of a limo like a little slut?”
“Topless?”
“We’ll see.”
“No. Topless.”
“Okay. What I won’t do for you?” I sighed.
He was like an animal when we got in the back seat of that limo. I must have really got him going. But he was really getting me going too. He was kissing me, with one hand in my hair and another outside of my blouse on my tits, and his thigh between placed between my legs grinding on my twat.
But then he pulled me on top of him, and as I rested my hands on his muscular chest, I was straddling him with my skirt hiked up so far that he had to be able to see his mom’s white panties.