21-08-2019, 06:58 PM
I wasn’t shy about rubbing my hand up her center, letting my fingers push into the crevice dividing her cheeks. The next handful went directly on the front of Mom’s panties and my mouth covered her ear, the tip of my tongue swirling slowly around its rim, then tasting the center. When the first low moan escaped Mom’s lips, I pushed her forward onto the grass. Mom lay still where she had landed. My eyes drinking in her painted body. It was a surreal, extremely erotic sight. I leaned forward and pushed the back of her right knee, moving it up until her leg was bent at almost ninety degrees. Observing her position critically, I moved her left leg up too but not as much. After a brief pause, I pulled on Mom’s right shoulder until her upper body was almost perpendicular to the grass. Gently, I pried her face up so it looked like she was trying to look back, waiting expectantly for someone behind her, except her eyes were closed. Almost satisfied, but not quite. I adjusted Mom’s hips so they tilted forward slightly but her ass pushed up and back. For the final touch, I moved Mom’s knees together and aligned her lower legs so they matched, one on the other, with one foot curling over the other.
Perfect. A woman waiting expectantly for her lover. Apprehensive, yet offering him everything, from behind. I laid down behind Mom, snuggling up to her and fitting myself around her body, the lump in my shorts just barely touching the triangle below her painted panties. As I leaned over to whisper in her ear, my bulge pressed into that sacred spot. “You’ve got work to do,” I whispered thickly into her wet ear. I stood and dragged Mom to her feet. I kept my distance, quietly watching Mom as she worked feverishly for the next few hours. She worked right through lunch, though I set a plate of fresh fruits and vegetables nearby. She finished the first statue, lying on its side, twisting up to look at the sky, the pert upper breast leaping from its chest as if it wanted to launch itself up to meet the target of its gaze. The second was finished in the middle of the afternoon. It, too, was lying on its side, though turned down toward the earth, it’s prominent, naked bottom pushing up as if unashamed of the heathen triangle it blatantly offered. When she was done, Mom looked vacantly about, almost immediately noticing the food. She devoured it ravenously, the speed with which she ate forcing juice from the oranges and tomatoes spilling over her chin.
She didn’t drink until the food was gone and then she gulped it down in one go. Then, she slumped in her seat before getting up and tottering like an old woman. I stepped quickly forward and grabbed her, fearing that she was about to fall. I carried her in my arms, upstairs, to the bathroom and the shower. There, I pulled the panties down and, God help me, kissed each bare cheek as I pushed the panties down her legs and off her feet. As she stood in the shower, leaning against the wall, letting the water run over her back, I undressed… completely. Mom was watching me with listless eyes but they still tracked my underwear being dragged down to my feet and off… then rose to follow the spring of my cock. I stepped into the shower behind her, soap in one hand and a washcloth in the other. I set to work, wiping away the paint and the stress. I cleaned her well and massaged her body as I went, interested more in relaxing than caressing. Yes, I took liberty in touching every part of her body but I didn’t try to rub my hard cock on her though my tip did accidently bump into her bum several times. I don’t know how but I resisted the urge to push it between her legs.
She was susceptible and I didn’t want to take advantage. I let her know that I loved her in the tender way I touched her, that I was fascinated with her beauty in body and soul, but most of all, just that I loved her. We didn’t say a word to my father about the emails or the new sculptures. ————————————— Mom didn’t come downstairs again that night either. Perhaps the day’s events had taken too great a toll. I was up early again the next day, eager to see her. Mom wore a simple white blouse, braless again, and a dark, navy blue skirt with intricate designs sketched in thin white lines. The thin cotton skirt swirled about her legs as she walked but when she returned from waving goodbye to Dad it was her blouse that attracted my attention. It was fully buttoned and Mom didn’t give any indication that she was going to unbutton it as she walked unsmiling toward me and stopped in front of my chair. I can’t describe the thrill that spread through my chest when, once there, a smile appeared and Mom started to undo her blouse. Slowly, very slowly. I didn’t say a word as I craned my neck to see and neither did she.
The white blouse was dropped carelessly and my eyes followed it to the floor despite the fact that Mom wasn’t wearing a bra. Her fingers were already sliding the zipper down on the navy blue skirt and my attention focused there, intent on the bare skin being exposed as Mom slowly lowered it over her hips. The depression between hipbone and tummy was revealed only to be hidden by the unfortunate appearance of panties but, as the skirt continued its fall, Mom’s flesh, in the form of soft, white thighs, reappeared. The skirt passed her knees and Mom stepped carefully out of it before dropping it onto the blouse. Two pieces of clothing. Only white panties were left. Mom leaned over me to brace her hands against the wall behind my head.
Perfect. A woman waiting expectantly for her lover. Apprehensive, yet offering him everything, from behind. I laid down behind Mom, snuggling up to her and fitting myself around her body, the lump in my shorts just barely touching the triangle below her painted panties. As I leaned over to whisper in her ear, my bulge pressed into that sacred spot. “You’ve got work to do,” I whispered thickly into her wet ear. I stood and dragged Mom to her feet. I kept my distance, quietly watching Mom as she worked feverishly for the next few hours. She worked right through lunch, though I set a plate of fresh fruits and vegetables nearby. She finished the first statue, lying on its side, twisting up to look at the sky, the pert upper breast leaping from its chest as if it wanted to launch itself up to meet the target of its gaze. The second was finished in the middle of the afternoon. It, too, was lying on its side, though turned down toward the earth, it’s prominent, naked bottom pushing up as if unashamed of the heathen triangle it blatantly offered. When she was done, Mom looked vacantly about, almost immediately noticing the food. She devoured it ravenously, the speed with which she ate forcing juice from the oranges and tomatoes spilling over her chin.
She didn’t drink until the food was gone and then she gulped it down in one go. Then, she slumped in her seat before getting up and tottering like an old woman. I stepped quickly forward and grabbed her, fearing that she was about to fall. I carried her in my arms, upstairs, to the bathroom and the shower. There, I pulled the panties down and, God help me, kissed each bare cheek as I pushed the panties down her legs and off her feet. As she stood in the shower, leaning against the wall, letting the water run over her back, I undressed… completely. Mom was watching me with listless eyes but they still tracked my underwear being dragged down to my feet and off… then rose to follow the spring of my cock. I stepped into the shower behind her, soap in one hand and a washcloth in the other. I set to work, wiping away the paint and the stress. I cleaned her well and massaged her body as I went, interested more in relaxing than caressing. Yes, I took liberty in touching every part of her body but I didn’t try to rub my hard cock on her though my tip did accidently bump into her bum several times. I don’t know how but I resisted the urge to push it between her legs.
She was susceptible and I didn’t want to take advantage. I let her know that I loved her in the tender way I touched her, that I was fascinated with her beauty in body and soul, but most of all, just that I loved her. We didn’t say a word to my father about the emails or the new sculptures. ————————————— Mom didn’t come downstairs again that night either. Perhaps the day’s events had taken too great a toll. I was up early again the next day, eager to see her. Mom wore a simple white blouse, braless again, and a dark, navy blue skirt with intricate designs sketched in thin white lines. The thin cotton skirt swirled about her legs as she walked but when she returned from waving goodbye to Dad it was her blouse that attracted my attention. It was fully buttoned and Mom didn’t give any indication that she was going to unbutton it as she walked unsmiling toward me and stopped in front of my chair. I can’t describe the thrill that spread through my chest when, once there, a smile appeared and Mom started to undo her blouse. Slowly, very slowly. I didn’t say a word as I craned my neck to see and neither did she.
The white blouse was dropped carelessly and my eyes followed it to the floor despite the fact that Mom wasn’t wearing a bra. Her fingers were already sliding the zipper down on the navy blue skirt and my attention focused there, intent on the bare skin being exposed as Mom slowly lowered it over her hips. The depression between hipbone and tummy was revealed only to be hidden by the unfortunate appearance of panties but, as the skirt continued its fall, Mom’s flesh, in the form of soft, white thighs, reappeared. The skirt passed her knees and Mom stepped carefully out of it before dropping it onto the blouse. Two pieces of clothing. Only white panties were left. Mom leaned over me to brace her hands against the wall behind my head.
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