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" "Mom, "I said, putting on a lascivious grin for her, "Take off your panties. Then she looked over my shoulder, and then to either side of her. Mom exhaled a short, sharp breath of air, and then she put both of her hands under the table on either side of her dress. After what seemed like ages, the familiar ping sounded. I saw the struggle in her face, but her desire won out. " "After the things we've done together, mom," I said, "I can tell it's something you still want to do, but you weren't able to do it married to dad, and you haven't been able to do it until now." She kept staring back at me, trying to maintain an impassive expression. My eyes were fixed on my own phone, waiting for the text to appear. The image on my phone screen was darker than I wished it was, the result of mom not having used a flash when she took the photo. But it was unmistakably a photograph of my hot mom's pussy under her blue skirt. No one could hear me but mom, but I could tell she was hanging on every word. "It's been a few days since you've done anything slutty, so how about if I have you do something slutty and we'll see how we both feel about." "You mean today? She covered them hastily as well as she could with her shoes, and then she looked up, obviously to see if anyone had noticed her. I just looked at the fringes of the blue panties peeking out from under mom's shoes under the table. "I hope you are satisfied." "I'm satisfied with that," I said. I've got a lot more in mind than that." I paused and let that sit with her. "The one the other day where you told me about being on the beach with dad? " I kept my voice down, but at the last sentence mom looked up and around her, with a nervous manner, obviously wondering if anyone could hear what I was saying. I was speaking loud enough for her to hear me, but not loudly enough for anyone else to hear me.
I could see the conflict and the desire in her face. Mom's eyes darted around the table in front of her until she looked down at her lap. Mom looked at me with an expression of curiosity and puzzlement, with a hint of fear.
When we sat down at the table, I was struck by the incongruity of mom's appearance and the memory of what had happened between us a few days earlier.
I looked at the elegant woman in the white top and blue skirt in front of me, and for a moment I doubted whether my memory of our time in the shower together was even real.
I had some plans for the day, and to pull them off I wanted to look older than I was.
Mom and I were having lunch together and enjoying the unseasonable warmth of a mid-fall afternoon.
She looked at me intently, with eyes wide and searching and her lips pressed tightly against each other. "It's just -- everything we've done together recently.