Chapter 3

Friday night, Mom and Dad went out for dinner and a play. I stayed home to watch a movie instead of going out with friends but my attention kept shifting to the middle of the floor where I had straddled Mom’s weaving body. I touched myself and wished she was here.

My parents were a little tipsy and in a good mood so I guessed the movie and play combo had been a success and said as much.

“The dinner was great but the play was stupid,” Dad said.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Mom chided him good-naturedly.

“It stank,” Dad retorted.

“Well, you’re in a surprisingly good mood then.”

Dad waved off my comment and started up the stairs.

“You going to be long, honey?”

“No,” Mom replied. “I’ll be right up.”

Mom disappeared into the kitchen but as soon as Dad topped the stairs she reappeared and walked toward me, arms waving above her head and hips jogging in the opposite direction to the sway of her arms.

“Your father took me dancing,” she giggled.

I should have been happy for her but I wasn’t. I was jealous. Nevertheless, I faked it half-heartedly for her benefit.

“That’s great, Mom.”

“The play wasn’t very good,” Mom confirmed Dad’s assessment. “We left early. Your father felt so bad about making me leave that he took me to a dance club downtown. Sugar Sweet, I think it was called, or maybe it was Sweet Sugar, or Sugar something. Anyway, we danced for at least two hours. Oh my, your father’s an awful dancer but he did try.”

“I’m glad you had a good time, Mom.”

“Thanks, baby. Now give your mother a kiss goodnight before your father gets too impatient.”

I didn’t want to get up but Mom pulled on my hands so I stood up and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“That’s not a proper send off for your mother. Come here.”

Mom pulled my head down and planted a wet kiss on my left cheek. I pulled back and she stumbled forward, evidently a little tipsier than I had first thought. The press of her full body against mine was almost too much to bear, given she was about to go upstairs and make a gift of it to my father. I closed my arms around her in a symbolic gesture of prevention. I really didn’t want her to go. Mom turned her face up and I kissed her, on the mouth.

I knew it was a mistake right away but couldn’t make myself stop. In fact, I tried to hold the kiss longer, afraid of Mom’s reaction once I released her. Surprisingly, Mom’s arms tightened around my neck just as the kiss ended but I managed to pull away a few inches.

“Curtis, you naughty boy,” Mom laughed playfully. “Our date isn’t until tomorrow night.”

On that note, Mom turned and walked, unhurried and hips swaying, up the stairs. As she neared the top, Dad called to her. Mom stopped and turned around, smiled at me, and blew a kiss.

Their door was firmly closed when I went to bed a few minutes later. I paused in the dark hallway and tortured myself by listening to the muffled sounds of their love-making. It rapidly built to a crescendo and just as quickly died and I cursed myself for listening. In the silent aftermath, I had to risk being heard as I moved on to my room but I had to go in case one of them came out and found me there, listening in the dark. I cursed when the floor creaked halfway down the hall. Had they heard?

I was passing by my parents room after dinner the next night.

“But we went out for dinner last night,” Dad complained.

“Yes, and I had a lovely time, but I want to see my friend dance and you don’t like Greek food, or belly dancing. You said so yourself.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Watch TV.”

“Nothing’s on.”

“Well, get a movie or something,” Mom snapped.

Dad came out of his room and saw me going into mine. He changed direction and followed me to my room.

“Did your mother force you into taking her out for dinner?”

“No, not really. I know she really wants to see her friend perform.”

“You don’t have to go, you know. I’ll do it if it’ll make her happy.”

“Dad, you know she’ll know that’s what you’re doing and it will make her mad.”

Dad sighed. “I guess you’re right. Well, I’m not made of money but if this is what she wants.”

Dad pulled out his wallet.

“I can pay for my own dinner Dad.”

“Nonsense.”

Dad handed me another hundred dollar bill.

“Make sure she has a good time. I’m a little beat anyway after last night.”

“Okay, Dad.”

I put my sports jacket and good slacks on and went to check on Mom to see if she was ready. I knocked on her bedroom door but she didn’t answer so I pushed it open and stuck my head in, feeling a little guilty because I was secretly hoping to catch her not quite fully dressed.

“Mom?”

“Curtis, you’re just in time. Come zip me up.”

Mom was standing in front of her dresser mirror with her back to me. I walked up behind her, noting with great pleasure that the green dress was zipped all the way down, so far that I could see the upper swells of her buttocks and the skimpy panties stretched across the divide between her cheeks. I felt a incredibly strong urge to slide my finger into the forbidden crevice the panties stretched across. Guiltily, I raised my eyes and traced a path up Mom’s unblemished back, following the curve of her spine. My breath caught when I realized Mom wasn’t wearing a bra and, just at that moment, my guilty eyes met her twinkling ones over her shoulder.

She spoke quietly, “Zip me up before I fall out of this thing.”

I glanced lower upon her reflection in the mirror and saw the inner swells of her breasts pressing against the dipping bodice of the green dress, too loose with the zipper undone to hold her in. I looked quickly away and searched for the tiny zipper at the base of the dress, my fingers fumbling against the bare skin of Mom’s lower back.

“You did insist I wear this dress,” Mom muttered.

I knew she was teasing and I wasn’t about to suggest she wear anything else. When the dress was zipped up, Mom turned around and put both hands on my chest, palms down.

“Maybe you should go downstairs and bring up my good coat for me.”

I didn’t understand why at first, then quickly nodded. Mom smiled at my awkwardness. When I returned with the coat, Mom was ready to go but as she walked toward me, reaching for the coat, she muttered, “Damn these stockings!”

Mom sat on the edge of the bed and removed the stocking from her left foot. “Yup, it’s ruined and we haven’t even left the house.”

I approached the bed, admiring the leg which Mom held stretched out for a few seconds, examining it closely, before lowering it to the floor. Mom held out her hand and took the coat, then laid it on the bed beside her. She stretched out her right foot.

“Can you?” she asked.

I brought my leg close so Mom could rest her foot on my knee and bent over her leg to search for the top of the stocking. I had to reach nervously under the hem of the green dress to find it. Shaking inside, I pulled it slowly down Mom’s leg and tossed it away.

“Can you get my shoes for me? The green ones.”

When I returned with Mom’s shoes she was rubbing lotion on her legs, smoothing it in until it left a sheen on both her legs. I kneeled in front of her with the shoes. Mom kept her legs demurely closed while I held the back of each ankle in turn and pushed the shoes onto her feet. I loved touching her legs and feet.

After that, I helped Mom on with her coat and we left saying goodbye to Dad without stopping. On the way to the restaurant Mom talked anxiously about seeing Lady Alexandra. I didn’t understand why she was so nervous and said so.

“She’s so talented, and such a perfectionist, but she really is a nice dancer, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s interesting to watch.”

“Her floor routine is fantastic. You hardly saw any of it. When she came to the studio, the performance she put on was unbelievable.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. I was a little uncomfortable talking about floor work given the way I had collapsed on Mom and soiled my pants. At first, I had been unsure about how Mom had taken it because the next day she had been somewhat aloof but later in the day she had warmed up. I had quickly forgotten my fear and assumed that Mom was okay with what had happened and even encouraged it. Why else would she get me to hang over her like that, push her body against mine, and then tolerate me lying on top of her while I came in my pants?

“By the way. Don’t tell Carol how badly I did with my floor routine.”

“Badly?”

“Yes. She told me I should get you to brace yourself above me so I would have a good sense of how far to move.”

“I don’t think you did badly. You hardly hit me at all until the end and that’s because I got tired and couldn’t hold myself up very well.”

Mom laughed. “That’s just the point. Carol said I should be able to reach you whenever I stretched up but I only managed it half the time, if that, and then only because you got tired.”

I was stunned. First, it was a revelation that Mom had only been trying to make contact with me because Lady Alexandra had told her that was a good way to judge the right distance to arch up from the floor. So much for my juvenile fantasy that Mom was trying to come on to me. And second, Mom thought she had done poorly because at first I had tried to keep away, pulling myself higher to avoid her discovering my raging boner. The fantasy of another session of floor work with Mom, with her eagerly pushing her swollen mound up to meet my engorged cock, crashed and burned.

Were all the teasing glances part of the schtick, too? Of course they were. I sank into the seat of the car, embarrassed about my naivety and deflated, in more ways than one.

Lady Alexandra introduced more floor work in her routine that night and, as Mom said, it was pretty fantastic. Her performance was very sensual and, looking around the room, I knew many of the men there would be having sex that evening and probably imagining they were with Lady Alexandra, even the younger ones. The thought made me even more depressed about Mom’s revelation in the car.

I was so disconsolate that I barely noticed the jostling of Mom’s breasts under the green dress and when I did I only noted how far-fetched a notion it was that I would ever be allowed to see them, let alone touch them.

Lady Alexandra stopped to chat but only briefly so I guessed a visit to the back room wasn’t in order. So much for the hope of ogling Mom’s body again upon the introduction of a new costume. My fear was confirmed when Carol joined us for dessert and coffee, dressed in a sleek black dress.

To my surprise, when we were about to go, Lady Alexandra insisted we join her in the back. Mom didn’t protest and I followed along, somewhat cheered at the prospect of being alone with these two women. I kidded myself that envious eyes were upon me as we walked past several tables of Lady Alexandra’s admirers but knew they were locked on my sexy, older female companions.

On the way, Lady Alexandra was talking about the Dance of the Seven Veils which Mom seemed to know about. Other than noting the name of the dance, my attention wandered. I’m sure you can guess where. About to follow Mom into the room, Lady Alexandra blocked my entrance.

“Sorry Curtis, but I want your Mom to try on the costume I use for the Dance of the Seven Veils.”

The door closed in my face. What a disappointing night. Mom was changing on the other side of the door and I was stuck out here. There were titters on the other side which didn’t ease my chagrin in the least. I leaned back against the wall in the poorly lit hallway and muttered to myself, loosing a few choice words every time I heard a new round of titters.

The door opened suddenly. Lady Alexandra grabbed my arm and yanked me into the room.

“Carol!”

Lady Alexandra laughed heartily. Mom was standing in the middle of the small room dressed in a costume completely constructed of veils, seven I presumed. The costume was definitely designed to intrigue. It was clear that Mom was naked underneath. Her womanly charms were obvious, but not easily seen even when one looked closely. I knew Mom’s breasts were free and bare because of the motion evident under the veils, yet I could not see their form clearly no matter how hard I tried.

“You see how this costume grabs the male mind, what little of it there is?” Carol laughed. “He can see, and yet he can’t. It’s as if you’re fully dressed, but you’re not, or undressed, yet clothed.”

Mom laughed nervously, becoming more at ease as she realized that what Carol said was true. I blushed but kept looking at Mom. She laughed suddenly, no longer nervous, and her eyes sparkled.

“Fun, isn’t it?”

“No,” I replied, feeling the victim.

“Oh, yes it is,” Lady Alexandra said.

She stepped close to Mom, her back to me.

“Carol don’t.”

Lady Alexandra stepped aside, a veil in her hand. “Tell me where this came from, Curtis.”

Mom looked nervous again but her anxiety was replaced with amusement when I looked at her and it was plain I couldn’t see where the veil had come from. They both tittered.

“This is why men are so mesmerized by the Dance of the Seven Veils. Even when you’re standing still, they can’t see any better. Imagine how hard it is when you’re moving? Their eyes are riveted but they cannot see, and yet, the sense of sexuality is pushed to the extreme.”

Lady Alexandra tittered again and only the glance of Mom’s lowered eyes told me why. I moved my hands in front of myself when Lady Alexandra again stepped close to Mom.

“Carol, no. Really.”

She stepped back, another veil in her hand. Though I couldn’t identify from where it had come, I could sense Mom’s nakedness more acutely. Her breasts were more clearly defined under the remaining veils and I was aware of the pout of her tummy and the swoop of her waist as it flared out to join her hips.

“An icing of pure woman,” Lady Alexandra mused. “You’ve the perfect body for this dance, Lisa. You really must do it for the restaurant.”

“Oh no. I couldn’t,” Mom protested.

“Of course you can. You’re ready for the big time. Don’t you think so, Curtis?”

The desire to see Mom dancing in this costume surged within me with a vengeance that was hard to contain, resulting in a fresh burgeoning in my pants.

“Yes, I do,” I said.

“You see?” Lady Alexandra said and, for an instant, I thought she was actually commenting on my swollen reaction.

“I can’t. I was simply terrible with the floor exercise. Tell her, Curtis.”

“Actually, she was pretty good.”

“Curtis!”

“It’s true, Mom. You’re very good and Lady Alexandra is right, you have the perfect body, er, figure for it.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Carol.”

Lady Alexandra stepped close to Mom again. “I think he knows exactly what he’s talking about.”

“Oh my God, Carol stop.”

Mom’s hands flailed but it was no use. Lady Alexandra stepped back with a veil in each hand.

“She is perfect, isn’t she Curtis?”

I nodded, speechless.

“He’s never even seen the dance performed.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s a man and he can see you.”

Mom tried to cover herself up with her hands, like I had done, but Lady Alexandra grabbed her left hand, stepped behind Mom to grab the right, and then held them both stretched out by her sides.

“She’s truly beautiful, isn’t she Curtis?”

I looked at Mom and she closed her eyes, turning her head to the left and slightly downward, blushing. The three veils did little to hide Mom’s resplendent figure. I could easily see the full contours of her heavy but not overly large breasts, how swollen and round they were, ripe yet bouncy and upturned, capped by thick nipples whose darkness showed prominently through the veil.

I lowered my eyes to the second veil that covered Mom’s hips but was unable to conceal the shapely legs underneath. And then there was the third veil, a tiny mini skirt that barely covered the skimpy panties Mom had worn. In fact, there was no evidence of that presence and my excitement grew as I became certain they weren’t there.

“If you weren’t her son, wouldn’t you want her, Curtis? I mean, right now?” Lady Alexandra demanded in a husky, urgent whisper.

“Carol!” Mom protested again, but she didn’t open her eyes.

I nodded, my throat as constricted as my pants were congested.

“And even if she was your Mom?” Lady Alexandra persisted.

“Carol!” Mom’s eyes flashed open.

“Yes,” I croaked, my eyes briefly meeting Mom’s before darting away.

“We have to go,” Angrily, Mom shook her arms free of her friend’s grasp.

Lady Alexandra laughed. “I was joking, Lisa. Don’t be mad.” She caught Mom’s arm. “Curtis, go outside now so your mother can get dressed.”

In the hallway, I could hear Mom’s anger subsiding as Lady Alexandra talked to her in a soothing voice. My ears perked up when she said how lucky she was to have a son like me, so much like her own, and that very few mothers are blessed to have such a close relationship with their sons like she and Mom did. The voices lowered after that and I couldn’t make out what was said. Then the door opened and Mom emerged.

Lady Alexandra was finishing a sentence, “ ... dance for us next week, you promised.”

Mom replied, “Uh huh,” but didn’t sound like she meant it. She smiled at me and said, “We should get home, Curtis.”

“Stop and take in the view of the city before you go home,” Lady Alexandra suggested. “The lights are beautiful at night.”

“We don’t have time,” Mom answered.

“You should make time for life.”

“Oh, all right. Just so you don’t nag me next time.”

Lady Alexandra laughed. “Don’t be rough on the costume, it’s delicate,” she called as Mom turned to lead us away.

“Good bye, Curtis. You’re a true gentleman,” Lady Alexandra said.

As I started to follow Mom, Lady Alexandra reached out to stop with a pull on my right hand. I looked back at her and she smiled as she tucked something into my hand, then pushed me onward. I looked down to see what it was and immediately blushed, glancing around to see if anyone had seen, and was glad Mom was walking purposely to the door. I stuffed the contents into my pocket. Lady Alexandra had pressed Mom’s tiny panties into my hand.

At the car, Mom waited for me to open the door and turned to look at me when I didn’t. I was struggling to get the keys out of my pocket, buried beneath Mom’s panties, without her seeing what I was doing. Mom quickly looked away. My face went red as I realized she probably thought I was having difficulty because of the physical condition that had been so evident when she was dressed in only the three veils.

I finally got the door open and Mom got in without displaying any leg. On the way home, I took a detour through Fox Hill as suggested by Lady Alexandra, passing by the upscale houses in the sweeping arc to the summit, and pulled over in the little park there overlooking the city. Mom was surprised by the turn but didn’t complain. We gazed over the city without talking and, gradually, its soothing beauty softened the mood within the car.

“She’s right. It is beautiful,” Mom said.

“Mom...”

“Don’t talk.”

“But...”

“Shhhhhh.”

For the first time ever, Mom slid across the seat toward me and cuddled up to my side, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“A lot has happened the past week that should just be left alone, and best forgotten.”

Mom tried to get comfortable but had difficulty with the raised floor in the middle of the car so she put her feet into the well on my side. I worried about ominous portent of her words paired with the unusual comforting snuggle. It seemed like Mom was about to tell me playtime was over. Resigned, I put my arm around Mom’s shoulder and bent down to kiss the top of her head. I still loved her, no matter what.

However, my breath caught in my throat when I saw that Mom’s coat had pulled open and the green dress had been dragged high up on her thighs. Mom’s panties, now stuffed in my pocket and pressed against her hip, silently informed me about what lay hidden and unprotected in the dark shadows of her skirt.

As Mom gazed out the front window over the city, I looked down between her slightly parted legs and peered into the darkness, seeking the faint outline of her uncovered womanhood. I knew I couldn’t do any more than look, and then only with the greatest discretion, but in my mind I reached inside and slid my hand along the soft inside of Mom’s legs until my fingertips touched the origin of my being.