After the final bell, I walked outside to feel the warmth of the late-spring sun on my face. There was a gentle breeze and several passing puffy white clouds cast a brief shadow across the sidewalk … spring fever had me tightly in its grip. As I walked unhurriedly down the sidewalk I looked up. A wide smile came to my face when I saw my mother waiting at the curb for me. She was driving my old door-less and topless Jeep that she had helped me purchase for my eighteenth birthday. I had eyed that vehicle at old Mr. Jenkins used car lot for quite some time. It had sat there for months as I tried to save the two thousand dollars to buy it before someone else did. However, the present to my mom for her birthday had totally depleted my funds. When she said she would help me purchase it, I was so incredibly excited. I put in a lot of extra hours at the pizza joint, but without her help I could never have afforded it. Now I am the envy of all my friends. When I don’t take the Jeep to school-due to a shortage of gas money, Mom will drive it and thankfully fill the tank. She says driving the Jeep makes her feel young. Her car is a ten-year-old minivan she got before my dad left. Some days, like today, she comes to pick me up from school when she has a day off or can get off early from work.
I never mind my mom showing up at school like some kids do. Most of them would be horrified if their parents came to school for any reason. Not me. I love for my friends to see my mom. I am so proud of her. Not only is she gorgeous, but she’s smart too. When I was young she earned her teaching credentials and taught school for almost ten years. But Dad wanted her to be a “stay at home mom”, so she quit. I think she misses teaching a lot. Then when Dad left, she applied for a teaching job, but due to budget cuts at the state level, none were available. To make ends meet, she took a job at a large marketing firm as a low level administrative assistant. After only a couple years she became a senior marketing executive. She says that she was just in the right place at the right time, but I know better. She earned everything she has gotten.
My mom has worked hard for her success, but she says dressing professionally, and just a little sixy, is important too. She does both in a stylish way. Under her business suits she wears pretty blouses with lace and frills and not the man-ish shirts that some businesswomen chose to wear. Some of Mom’s tops are cut low in front, exposing just a hint of her cleavage under the lace fringe. She said she wears those when she needs to make a good impression on some of her male clients. I know it works on me.
And now here she was waiting at the curb for me. I waved to a couple of my guy friends, who happened to be staring at my mother, and rushed over and hopped into the passenger side of the Jeep.
“How was school?” she asked.
“Boring,” I replied as I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. I like kissing her on the lips. Her lips are always moist and she has started wearing lipstick with subtle flavors. Actually that’s how we first started kissing on the lips. She told me one day that she was wearing a new lipstick with flavor. I surprised her by kissing her on the lips to taste it. From then on we have always kissed on the lips, and when she has that lipstick on it is a game for me to guess the flavor. I guessed Strawberry today.
“Nope,” she said just a tad flustered it seemed.
“Let me try again.” Before she could protest I leaned close and kissed her a second time, letting my lips linger on hers for a moment longer then the first time.
She pulled away and said, “Jerry, not here. Your friends might see.”
“I don’t care if they do.”
“I do,” she said firmly, but I could see a twinkle in her eye.
“All right, but you have to let me try again when we get home.”
She didn’t answer, but instead changed the subject. “There’s only another week of school left. Are you ready for your finals?”
“Yeah, I know this stuff. Besides, I could flunk the final in almost every class and still get a ‘B’.”
“Well, don’t do anything that would jeopardize the scholarship.”
“You know I wouldn’t do that.”
She looked thoughtful and as if she didn’t hear me said, “I could probably scrape up enough to get you through for a couple of years, but I’d rather use that money for other things.”
“Like that nice vacation you promised me if I got the scholarship?” I said, as if I needed to remind her.
“That’s already set up and mostly paid for.”
My ears perked up. “Paid for? Where are we going?”
“That’s a surprise.”
“Ah, Mom, come on, you can’t leave me hanging like this.”
“Sorry, after finals.”
“Damn,” I said, but smiled. She smiled back and my heart fluttered.
I had been so excited to see her there to give me a ride home that I hadn’t noticed what she was wearing. It was a warm day so she had on a pair of white short shorts that left most of her thighs uncovered. On top was a tight jersey that hugged her breasts like a second skin. She did have on a bra, but it was one of those natural ones that gave only a tad of support … she didn’t need any more than that. I could see her hard nipples poking through. I wondered if the kiss had caused that. It certainly wasn’t because the weather was cold. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t have worn that outfit if she had to get out of the car for any reason. She apologized for her outfit and said she was working around the house and had been running late so she didn’t have time to change. I didn’t mind at all.
She saw me staring at her hardened nipples and blushed before starting the Jeep and quickly pulling away from the curb.
It was Friday and we typically rented a video and ordered pizza in. She had taken the day off and spent it lying in the warm sun adding to her already nice tan. She had been visiting a tanning salon for a few weeks so I figured our vacation was going to be somewhere with a beach and lots of sun. That was fine with me. We both like the sailing, skin diving, and snorkeling.
“What are we going to rent tonight?” she asked.
“We had a chick flick last week. I want something that has lots of shooting and things blowing up,” I replied with a laugh.
Mom sighed. “Okay, but not another Bruce Willis thing.”
“You know you love those movies,” I joked.
“Well, the last one where he jumped off the bridge onto the wing of the jet fighter was a little over the top.”
“You mean people don’t do that?” I said facetiously.
“Not normal people.”
“Okay, I’ll get something that’s not too violent. I’ll give you one of my famous foot massages while we watch,” I offered.
“Mmmm,” she said. “It’s been too long since you last gave me a foot massage.”
We stopped at Blockbuster and I picked up “The Bourne Supremacy.” A little less violent then the Bruce Willis movies, I figured. I had seen it at the theater a few months earlier.
When we arrived home and walked into the house, I stopped my mother by grabbing her arm. She turned and looked at me with surprise. “Lipstick,” I said. She had forgotten. I hadn’t.
I leaned forward and touched my lips to hers. I was close enough that I could feel her soft breasts touch my chest. My heart began to pound as I tried to hold my breathing steady. Her lips were opened just a bit. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but in that time I moved my lips across hers, under the pretext of making sure I got a good taste of her lipstick. When I pulled back, I was almost trembling. When I looked at my mom, I saw that her eyes were closed. Her lips were open and I could see that she was breathing more rapidly. Her nipples were hard again. I suddenly wondered if my mother was feeling the same stirrings that I had been feeling for so long. That was too much to ask, I thought.
“Raspberry,” I whispered, almost breathlessly.
Mom opened her eyes as if she had forgotten what we were doing. Her face flushed as a pink blush came to her cheeks. She looked confused for a moment. “Uh … uh … nope, not raspberry.”
“I guess I’ll have to try again later,” I said. I figured it would be going to far if I tried to kiss her again, as much as I wanted to at that moment.
“Uh … yes,” she said, still a little flustered. “I have some things to do now.”
“I’ll order the pizza at 6 and we’ll watch the movie at seven,” I said.
“Okay,” she returned, taking a deep breath before turning and heading upstairs.
We busied ourselves around the house for the next couple of hours. A while later I saw my mom pass my room on her way to take her bath. I waited a few minutes and then crept down the hall. I peeked into the bathroom from the darken hallway just in time to see her bend over to step into the steaming tub. I hadn’t seen her for a week or so and I was surprised to see how tanned she was. In fact, she was tanned all over. There were no bathing suit marks either upper or lower. I watched as she sat in the tub and washed, but I didn’t pull my cock out of my pants. I wanted to wait. Our Friday nights together were always fodder for my masturbatory fantasies. While nothing sixual had happened in the past, we typically sat close together and I would often put my arm over her shoulder and let her lean into me. That was enough to make me excited. We always kept the lights off, which gave me the protection to hide my seemingly ever-present erection.
I broke away from watching my mother when I saw her look toward the door. I went to my room and took my shower and loaded the movie into the DVD player downstairs. The pizza was steaming and sitting on the coffee table, along with a bottle of chilled red wine, when my mother finally came down. She smiled when she saw the wine and two glasses. She usually let me have a couple glasses as long as I wasn’t going out afterward. I never went out after our Friday night movie. I had no interest in going out with the boys or even a girlfriend when I could spend the evening with my mother.
I had on a pair of boxer shorts and no shirt. I often ran around in my underwear; after all they were almost like swim trunks anyway. Mom was wearing a robe and her hair was wet. I couldn’t tell if she had anything on underneath the robe. My imagination ran wild with the possibility that she was naked.
“I had to wash my hair after being at the salon. It was all greasy. I need to dry it before we start watching the movie, okay?”
“Sure. Let me do it,” I said, reaching for the blow dryer she had in her hand.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’d love to,” I said, quickly plugging the dryer into a wall outlet. “Here sit on the floor between my legs,” I said as I sat on the sofa and spread my legs.
“Wow, this is special treatment.”
“It is. So are you going to tell me where we are going on vacation?”
My mother giggled and said, “Ah, so that’s what this is all about.” She reached over and poured two glasses of wine and sat back, handing me one. “I knew there was a method to your madness.”
“Do you think I’m that shallow to resort to such trickery?”
She turned and looked up at me with a smile and said, “Yes, you would.”
I took a quick gulp of wine and sat the glass down on the coffee table. “Okay, you’re right,” I laughed. “Now tell me.”
“Nope, after finals. And that’s final.”
“Damn,” I said a second before I turned on the hair dryer. I began to blow dry her hair. I used one hand to fluff it up as I waggled the dryer over the back and then the top of her head. She leaned her head back so that her neck was touching the sofa between my legs as she sipped her wine. I squeezed my legs together until I was touching her arms on both sides. I could feel her warmth through the bathrobe. I could smell the fresh washed fragrance of her hair and the lavender soap she had used in her bath. The combination began to have an effect on me and I felt myself becoming excited. My cock began to grow down the leg of my shorts and was in an uncomfortable position. I wanted to reach down and move it, but there was no way to do that without her knowing. Then suddenly she adjusted the position of her head, pressing it against my trapped erection. I froze.
“Mmmm,” she murmured, probably as a result of me running my fingers through her hair. “Maybe you should be a hairdresser,” she joked.
I had to do something with my erection so I lifted her head and moved back a bit trying to get more comfortable. I almost sighed in relief as my erection flipped upward to a more natural position. I said, “If all my customers were as sixy as you I would.”
Her response was a murmur of approval. I knew she liked it when I complimented her. Without a husband around she probably didn’t hear too many honest compliments. Certainly not at her highly competitive work environment where she said backstabbing and sabotage are the order of the day.
As I worked on her hair, I glanced over her shoulder and saw that she was resting her nearly empty wine glass on her bare knee. The robe had slipped off her legs and had slid to the floor between them. I could see her thighs, all the way to the top of her hip. The sight of her tanned thighs was enough to keep my cock throbbing in my shorts. I could see goose bumps on her inner thigh as I put the dryer down and began to massage her head. I knew there was going to be a wet spot on the crotch of my underwear, but I was far too excited to worry about that.
I reached over and filled her wine glass again. Before she could move I slipped my hands down to her shoulders and under the top of her robe to rub her neck.
“Mmmm,” she murmured.
I slowly worked my hands outward and under the robe until I could massage her shoulders. My hands moved back and forth, squeezing her soft and warm flesh, digging my fingers gently into indentation at the nape of her neck.
“Oh, a hairdresser and masseur,” Mom said.
“Only for you.”
Without my mother realizing it, I began to push the robe outward until her shoulders were bare. The effect was to make the robe part down to the belt, which was tied around her waist. From her neck to the belt the robe was slightly open, revealing the soft swells of the inside of her breasts. If my mother realized what she was exposing, she gave no indication. I moved my hands sensuously across her shoulders, working hard to keep her attention from the opened robe. I knew if I pushed the robe just an inch more on one side or the other I would be able to see her nipple. With my heart pounding in my chest I pushed the right side further down with my little finger. It slipped from her shoulder and halfway down her arm.
Oh God, there it is, I screamed in my head. I could see an areola of one nipple, but not the tip. The robe was hanging on her pencil eraser sized nipple. My hands were trembling as I waited for it to fall, continuing to work into her muscles with my fingers. My mother moved her shoulder as if she was getting a cramp. The robe slipped lower and suddenly the entire nipple was visible, including most of her breast. I thought I would climax right then. My head was spinning. Yes, I had seen her breasts plenty of times, but not this close. It was within reaching distance.
Before I could do anything crazy my mother said, “Oops,” and casually pulled the robe back over her bared breast, but fortunately for me she left much of her cleavage exposed.
When I regained control, I leaned over and turned my mother’s head toward me. My lips moved down quickly until they were touching hers. She must have been stunned because she allowed my lips to remain on hers for several seconds. I grew bold and pushed my tongue out and ran it across her lips, before sinking into her mouth a fraction of an inch. I felt my cock lurch and spit pre-cum juice into my shorts.
Before she could protest, I pulled away and smacked my lips. “Hmmm, grape,” I said as if I had been tasting her lipstick.
My mother looked startled and said, “I don’t have flavored lipstick on.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, must have just been the wine on your lips” I said as I began to massage her shoulder again as if nothing had happened.
“Our pizza has gotten cold,” she said and sat forward before quickly standing up. “I’ll put it in the microwave.” With that she poured herself another glass of wine before taking the pizza into the kitchen.
I fell back on the sofa, my heart still thumping in my chest. My hand was shaking so much that I nearly spilled my wine as I brought it to my lips. I quickly downed the glass and poured another.