The Rambler part 2b - Sex Stories

The Rambler part 2b

... my rising lust, but she didn't pull away from my touch. It was the tone of her voice that pushed me away, a definite signal that I was presuming too much. Though I kept my distance while drying the dishes I kept my eyes on Mom's enticing buttocks and she seemed quite happy to keep moving it around in this new eye-catching fashion. I guess I was welcome to look. And that is how the week played out. Though I didn't approach Mom again I was sure my touch would have been no more welcome but the visual show continued all week despite warming relations between my parents. On Friday, Dad left after dinner for his regular bowling game with the boys and Mom disappeared upstairs, returning moments later dressed for bed, robe and all. I guess there was to be no jostling tease the night before the big show. Mom filled the sink, dumping the cutlery in to soak followed by the glassware, as usual, but she didn't immediately begin washing. Instead, she stood with her hand on the tap, waiting for the suds to near the top edge of the sink and when it did she shut it off and walked over to the table where she stopped. Her elbows bent as she lifted her hands in front of her to fuss with something and seconds later I understood what as she lifted her robe from her shoulders and shrugged it down her arms, slipping it off and dr****g it over the back of a kitchen chair. Mom turned back and walked toward the sink without looking at me. She was wearing a nightdress, much like the one she'd worn the ...

... past Monday morning but a little shorter and with just ribbon straps over the shoulders to hold it up. It appeared to be the only thing she was wearing, a conjecture that was confirmed as Mom leaned against the sink and started washing the dishes, the thin nightie covering her bottom leaving absolutely no doubt that there was nothing constraining her quivering cheeks. I was in heaven. I stared in awe up and down Mom's legs, but mostly at her quivering buns, as Mom seemed to take special care again to ensure that each and every dish was impeccably clean. No. I lied. I snuck a few glances around the side to watch the side of her breasts bounce up and down with her vigorous arm movements, their cleaning action seeming to intensify whenever they sensed my close scrutiny. Towards the end, my ardent attention leaving me in quite a fix, I leaned close to Mom to thank her for helping me out tomorrow night at the drive-in. Of course, I let my throbbing, bulging jeans press in to feel the warmth of those oscillating globes and was again treated to my mother's mild rebuke. "You're welcome, dear, but remember that it's not going to be like you think, the way it was last time. That was an accident and it won't happen again." As before, Mom didn't push me away and this time I didn't voluntarily pull back. Her tone was less intimidating but, even so, I wasn't about to be put off of this gloriously soft and warm flesh by just a stern voice. Nevertheless, I was surprised when Mom allowed me to ...