My feelings for this woman as she sat in front of me looking so beautiful in the subdued lighting was increasing by the second. Several times she looked up from the menu and smiled at me, a smile that could easily be interpreted as sensual. The waiter returned and we selected various courses from the menu.
“Would you like a glass of wine or perhaps a soft drink?”
“A glass of wine would be very nice, thank you.”
I knew my mother’s preference for wines, since it was the same as mine. “Two glasses of white medium to dry house wine if you have it.” The waiter nodded and left. There was very little talking while we ate although I did ask her why I hadn’t seen her wear a dress before.
“Your father likes me to wear only our traditional dress.”
By the time we had finished our meal the small dance floor, which I didn’t know about when I booked the table, was crowded. It was an opportunity to good to miss, officially allowing me to press my body against my mother’s, hoping she would find the touching of our bodies acceptable. I stood up, held out my hand.
“Would you like to dance?”
She looked at me, I thought she was about to decline my offer, instead she took my hand, stood up and said. “I would love to.” She never withdrew her hand from mine as we made our way to the dance floor. It all started off respectably, with me holding her in the traditional ballroom style, and a respectable gap between us. But with all the bumping and jostling our bodies were soon forced together. The way we held each other also needed to change, my mother wrapped her arms around my waist with mine wrapped around her shoulders. We were close, very close, and for the first time I felt my mother’s breasts being squashed against my chest. My arousal was obvious, I’m sure she must have felt me pressing up against her, but neither did she say anything or pull away.
After a couple of dances we made our way back to the table had a coffee, talked a little then back on the dance floor for some more canoodling. It was early when we left, early the next morning, we were one of the last to leave almost getting thrown out of the restaurant because they were waiting to close up.
I persuaded mother that it was such a beautiful evening we should take stroll along the river bank. As we walked, occasionally our arms would touch, so when she never increased the space between us and the touching persisted. I slipped my arm behind her and around her waist, resting my hand on the top of her hip. The feel of silkiness as she moved causing her dress to glide across her underwear was the cause of my erection. And the feel the waist band of her panties only intensified my arousal.
We came across a wooden bench seat and she asked if we could rest a while. We talked in general mainly about work until I asked her.
“Why doesn’t dad like you wearing dresses, I also assume that it applies to skirts and blouses?”
“I don’t really know darling he has always been the same. I’ll let you into a little secret, when you’re both at work I change into a skirt and blouse and wear them for most of the day, only changing back before you get home. Be honest with me Remi, now that you’ve seen me wearing both a saree and a dress, which would you prefer to see me wear?”