A Widow's Comfort Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

A Widow's Comfort Ch. 02

... you exactly 22 minutes to stop that," I said, not moving, my head turned away from her, my cheek on the pillow.

I felt the bed bounce a little as she crawled in beside me and then those educated fingers were busy at my back again.

God, it felt good. I could feel my skin tighten into goosebumps as her fingertips traced my shoulder blades and then my spine.

My erection was as involuntary as my breathing or my heartbeat.

When her finger traced the line of the elastic waistband of my shorts and then the shape of my ass, I lifted my head and faced her.

"Mom," I said, softly, meeting her eyes, "what are you doing?"

She jerked her hand away and blushed the brightest red blush I ever saw.

"Oh, Honey, I'm sorry," she said, "I just got carried away."

I smiled, rolled up, and kissed her, trying for one of those not-quite-son-to-mother kisses she was so adept at.

"I'm flattered," I said.

She giggled and said, "You told me to wake you at five o'clock."

"Okay," I said, rolling out of bed, "You go find something to wear you think I might like and I'll take a shower."

She left and I went into the shower.

As I washed my body my erection slowly wilted, but my mind was racing.

"Will," I thought to myself, "she's your mother. Now stop your nasty thoughts."

"Will," I replied to myself, and I realized I had said it aloud, "She's lonesome, that's all."

"Will," I said, "that was a sexual approach and you know it."

"Will," I replied, but I wound ...

... down. I couldn't think of anything to say to that.

"Will," I said at last to myself, "are you going to move out?"

"No," I replied to myself.

"Will," I said to myself again, "then you need to make a decision."

"Right now?" I asked myself.

"No," I said, finishing the conversation, "not right now."

I finished my shower and started drying.

"But soon," I said, in closing.

So I dried, looked in the mirror as I brushed my teeth, touched up my goatee, and went into the bedroom to get dressed.

In my college student's date night uniform - clean cargo pants, a button-down Oxford cloth shirt, brightly patterned socks, and black loafers - I headed to her bedroom.

She looked good.

Okay, she looked DAMN good.

Her makeup was perfect, those tiny lines that circle her eyes had disappeared, and the makeup on her eyes gave her a slightly exotic look. Her mouth was a perfect cupid's bow in a VERY bright red. I can't say for certain that she did some sort of makeup to that soft extra chin hanging below her jaw, but it seemed smoother this evening.

"I bought this as sort of an anniversary present for your father a few years ago. I'm pretty sure it'll still fit if you help with the zipper," she said, holding out a long, flat box.

Curious, I opened the box. Inside was a garment, bright yellow, and when I touched it it was a soft material. Not that I'm an expert on women's clothing, but the word "Jersey" came to mind as I felt it.

I lifted it out of the box and ...