The Weekly Ritual Part 2 - Sex Stories

The Weekly Ritual Part 2

... soaked shorts down my toned legs to my ankles, stepping out of them.

As I pick them up, I whisper aloud,What the hell was that, Eva?

I didn’t do it on purpose, and yet, there’s a part of me that is secretly thrilled as I sit back down in just my t-shirt and underwear, holding the stained shorts in my lap awkwardly.

I wait for a few minutes before Mom emerges from the bedroom looking sheepish.

"Oh shoot, Eves, I guess my clothes boxes are in the other truck. Let’s just get you a towel or something to sit on and…" She stops short when she sees me.

“You…already took them off,” she says softly.

I look down at my tanned bare thighs and the bunched-up yellow fabric clutched in my hands.

“Yeah, no big deal," I murmur. I stand up and awkwardly hold out the soiled garment. "Might as well still wash them, right?"

“R-right.” She sounds unsure, but she steps forward anyway and takes the shorts from me, her eyes involuntarily trailing down my nearly naked body for a split second before snapping back up to meet my gaze.

As I stand there, I catch another whiff of the spilled wine. I lift the hem of my T-shirt.

“Oh, man…” I say, a blush creeping across my cheeks as I realize the little pale pink cotton panties I’m wearing are also soaked through with wine.

Mom’s eyes travel down my body once more to note the large stain between my legs, her expression unreadable. She lets out a small “ah” sound, a slight intake of breath. I drop my shirt hem quickly, my ...

... face flushing red.

What I do next, I can’t explain. I feel like I’m being pulled by a force greater than my own will – the energy in the room propelling me forward before my mind can catch up.

Without consciously deciding to, I find my thumbs hooking under the elastic waistband of my panties.

“Here, um...why don’t you just throw these in with the shorts.” I hear the words come out of my mouth, but it sounds like someone else is speaking them. My hands act on their own accord as they slowly draw my soiled panties down my legs.

Mom holds up her hand to stop me. “No, don’t worry about that now, you don’t need to...” she protests but trails off as I step out of the sodden undergarment and hand it to her wordlessly.

I stand bare before my mother except for my t-shirt, acutely aware of her gaze on me. In my haste to drive over here, I hadn’t even thrown a bra on, and I can feel my nipples hardening under the thin fabric. I’m not sure if it’s the cool air dancing over my bare skin or my mother’s eyes doing the same that causes me to shiver slightly.

A tense silence falls over us. Neither of us knows what to do or say next.

Finally, Mom clears her throat awkwardly. “Uh, right…well…I’ll just...go throw these in the wash then!” She turns and hurries out of the room, my stained clothes bundled in her arms.

I’m left standing alone, completely naked from the waist down. I let out a shaky exhale.

What am I doing?

I scold myself. Stop trying to recreate what ...