06-11-2019, 08:16 AM
Mom let go and I was gone, struggling with my thoughts. She couldn’t have known what was happening or she would have been mad. She certainly wouldn’t have asked me to come back for more. But how could I do it in my pajamas? No, I’d have to keep my jeans on. But she told me to get changed. That’s ok. I’d just stand back so she couldn’t lean back against me, rub her scalp for awhile, and get out.
Normally, I slept nude in the summer or with a pair of pajama bottoms from late fall through early spring. Following my habit, I put on a pair of PJ’s and was out the door before it dawned on me that I couldn’t wear just pajamas. What if I got a hardon again? How could I hide it? I returned and put on a pair of jockey shorts, rummaging around for a tight pair that would keep me close. Suitably armored, I put my PJ’s back on and headed for my parents room, resolved to make this a brief as possible to minimize the possibility of facing an awkward, embarrassing situation.
Dad was in bed when I entered and the lights had been turned off except for Mom’s the lamp on Mom’s dresser which had been dimmed. I approached Mom, leaving almost a foot between myself and her back, and awkwardly stretched forward to get the hairbrush from the dresser. Mom pushed my hand away.
“Just do my scalp like before,” she spoke quietly, glancing at Dad.
I looked over at Dad too before I put my hands on Mom’s hair. He was lying on his back with his eyes closed breathing quite deeply if not actually snoring yet. Turning back to Mom, I saw in the mirror that she had noticed where I was looking.
“He’s been doing that for about a year now. He goes to sleep as soon as he’s in bed. He’ll start snoring in a couple of minutes.”
My fingers were threading through Mom’s hair, pulling it back and away from her face, revealing her relaxed smile. My fingers traced around the edges of her forehead, then down one cheek, under her chin and up the other side of her face, circling her ear to drag her hair out, letting it fall and returning my hand to her forehead to repeat the cycle. Mom closed her eyes.
“That’s feels so good, Michael.” Mom turned her face up toward me, I suppose to make it easier for me to reach.
I didn’t answer. There was no need, and anyway, I was captivated to the length of her exposed throat. Why should the vulnerability of a woman’s neck be so exciting? Porn sites certainly weren’t populated with pictures of women’s necks. As I caressed Mom’s face, my free hand slipped down to stroke her neck as I had been doing before Dad came upstairs. As that thought filtered through my mind, I glanced his way but he was still lying on his back. The only change I noticed was that he was breathing more deeply and before I looked away, he started to quietly snore. Surprisingly, I was more excited than scared to be touching Mom the way I was with my father lying not ten feet away.
For some reason, that brought a smile to my face and it made Mom relax. I could feel the tension flow from her neck on Dad’s first snore and by the third, despite the gap between us, Mom leaned back until her head collided with my groin.
Normally, I slept nude in the summer or with a pair of pajama bottoms from late fall through early spring. Following my habit, I put on a pair of PJ’s and was out the door before it dawned on me that I couldn’t wear just pajamas. What if I got a hardon again? How could I hide it? I returned and put on a pair of jockey shorts, rummaging around for a tight pair that would keep me close. Suitably armored, I put my PJ’s back on and headed for my parents room, resolved to make this a brief as possible to minimize the possibility of facing an awkward, embarrassing situation.
Dad was in bed when I entered and the lights had been turned off except for Mom’s the lamp on Mom’s dresser which had been dimmed. I approached Mom, leaving almost a foot between myself and her back, and awkwardly stretched forward to get the hairbrush from the dresser. Mom pushed my hand away.
“Just do my scalp like before,” she spoke quietly, glancing at Dad.
I looked over at Dad too before I put my hands on Mom’s hair. He was lying on his back with his eyes closed breathing quite deeply if not actually snoring yet. Turning back to Mom, I saw in the mirror that she had noticed where I was looking.
“He’s been doing that for about a year now. He goes to sleep as soon as he’s in bed. He’ll start snoring in a couple of minutes.”
My fingers were threading through Mom’s hair, pulling it back and away from her face, revealing her relaxed smile. My fingers traced around the edges of her forehead, then down one cheek, under her chin and up the other side of her face, circling her ear to drag her hair out, letting it fall and returning my hand to her forehead to repeat the cycle. Mom closed her eyes.
“That’s feels so good, Michael.” Mom turned her face up toward me, I suppose to make it easier for me to reach.
I didn’t answer. There was no need, and anyway, I was captivated to the length of her exposed throat. Why should the vulnerability of a woman’s neck be so exciting? Porn sites certainly weren’t populated with pictures of women’s necks. As I caressed Mom’s face, my free hand slipped down to stroke her neck as I had been doing before Dad came upstairs. As that thought filtered through my mind, I glanced his way but he was still lying on his back. The only change I noticed was that he was breathing more deeply and before I looked away, he started to quietly snore. Surprisingly, I was more excited than scared to be touching Mom the way I was with my father lying not ten feet away.
For some reason, that brought a smile to my face and it made Mom relax. I could feel the tension flow from her neck on Dad’s first snore and by the third, despite the gap between us, Mom leaned back until her head collided with my groin.
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