“So?” Mom stuck her arms out and did a little spin, showing me her half exposed round buttocks before presenting me with her silk and polyester covered sex and B-cup boobs again. I couldn’t put my finger on as to why, but the silk garter belt stockings that hugged her curvy hips and clung to her toned and creamy legs added an extra kind of sauciness to the attire. “What do you think?”
I was amazed; at how sexy she looked! And at the fact that I was finding her sexy! I mean, I’d always known that mom was a good-looking woman, maybe not in a movie star or in a supermodel kind of way, but in the…everyday good-looking woman sense. In fact, she was a milf according to the friends I’d gone to high school with.
But here’s the thing, I never would’ve guessed that I-her son, I stress-would one day find myself wanting to tear her clothes off and, well…do stuff to her. But there I was. Shame I’d never felt the likes of settled in as the front of my slacks slowly began to tighten. I wanted to kill myself for it.
“Nick?” Mom raised an eyebrow.
“Hmm?” With a balled up hand over my mouth, I raised my chin to make eye contact.
“What do you think?”
“Umm, pppphhhh.” I pretended like I was thinking about it. “You uh…you look…you look fine.” I nodded.
“Fine?” Mom looked down at her body as my cock grew stiffer.
I was tempted to turn my pelvis. But I thought it would look suspicious.
“Are you sure? Because that mirror’s telling me a story that’s a little different from yours.” Mom turned and faced the mirror she was referring to. Then she placed her hands onto her hips and tilted her head, causing her sleek hair to fall over a shoulder. It only quickened the flow of the blood that was being sent to my cock.
“No, I mean…you look good, mom.” I needed to get out of there before she discovered how perverted her son was. “I’ll see you outside.”
“Honey wait.” She made a quick turn and grabbed me by the arm. “…Are you sure?”
“Definitely.” I nodded and once I shook my arm free, I made my exit.
“Phew.” I looked up at the ceiling. That was a close call. I then quickly made my way back to the couch I sat on earlier, before anyone in the store noticed the lump in my jeans. Albeit I was relieved mom didn’t notice my erection, I’d never been so ashamed in my entire life.
What kind of a son gets aroused at the sight of his mother? Half-naked or not; I felt like scum for it and wanted to climb into an elevator, take it to the top floor and jump off the roof. “I fucking hate myself,” I muttered and shook my head.
But not too long after I began beating myself up, I also realised it was probably best if I didn’t harp on what took place. I couldn’t have been the only guy in the world this has happened to, right? And even if I was, I was confident it would never happen again.
Mom emerged from her stall about five minutes later-my disgraceful boner having subsided by then-and once again she was dressed in her sundress. She also decided to buy the underwear she’d tried on. And her explanation for her choice was she liked the way she looked in it. I couldn’t blame her for coming to that conclusion, and it’s needless to explain why.