The Rambler part 2b - Sex Stories

The Rambler part 2b

"My skin looks so loose now, not tight like it used to be. No wonder your father and his cronies were trying to look up that slut's dress, she wears it so short." Stunned, I watched as Mom dropped both hands to the top of her legs and pulled her nightdress back almost to her hips in demonstration. Though her legs were too tightly pressed together for me to see between her legs, her right leg was raised sufficiently for me to follow the back of her thigh down until I saw the line of a pair of pale blue panties stretched across the bottom of her legs, provoking an immediate response in the same general area of my own groin. "Mom," I stammered, "your legs are better than hers," I said, inadvertently indicating that I knew exactly who she was talking about. Unfortunately, Mom picked up on my slip. "Who's legs?" she asked, looking up. "Well ... uh, Dad's boss' wife, I guess. She's the one that Tim's Mom always complains about." I looked away awkwardly, then back at her, my eyes falling to her legs as I continued. "Anyway, if you wore dresses as short as she did, those guys wouldn't give her a second glance," I said, nodding as if my own confirmation would strengthen my own theory. "Really?" Mom sounded pleased, looking down, leaving me free to admire her leg. She pulled her other foot up to the higher rung and, with both feet raised up on her toes, swung away from the counter, her legs parting a good eight inches they moved. I was staring straight down a long channel to a swath of ...

... pale blue slashing through a bracket of tanned brown legs that somehow conveyed soft, yielding tenderness. "Do you really think so?" I could sense that Mom was looking at my face to verify the truth of what I was saying but I kept my eyes firmly fixed on her panties, somehow feeling it was allowed and knowing there was not a shred of dishonesty in what I was saying. "Absolutely, they're awesome." I sensed rather than saw Mom smile. Did she know I was staring at her panties and not her legs? "Well, your father should be smart enough to know that. He should be more like his son," she huffed, snapping her legs shut and swinging them back towards the counter, picking up her coffee mug and looking at the paper now spread flat on the counter. I finished my breakfast, taking as much opportunity as I wished to look at Mom's legs, still mostly exposed because she had neglected to push her nightdress back to her knees, leaving me with the view I had initially enjoyed. Periodically, Mom muttered to herself which, together with the fact that she never turned the page, I surmised indicated lingering hurt and deep anger at my father. When my cereal was finished, I left quietly and didn't say anything except for a muted goodbye as I left for school. Dinner was a quiet affair that night, neither of my parents seeming to be in the mood to talk. Dad finished dinner quickly and disappeared into the living room. I was about to escape to my room too when Mom asked if I was going to help her with ...