The following week, it seemed like nothing had changed. Mom was behaving as if nothing had happened. It messed with my head to the point that I almost wondered if I had dreamed the entire situation up.
Still, it consumed my thoughts for the entire week. As time progressed and nothing further happened, I convinced myself that it was all a mistake and something that would not be repeated. Somehow, that made me want it even more.
Eventually, Saturday arrived. Mom volunteered to pick up the movies and pizza while I finished up some homework. By the time she returned, I was starving and waiting for her on the couch. We dished out some slices on paper plates and ate as the movie played. It was a pretty good movie, at least the first part of it was. Once I had my stomach full, however, I struggled to focus on the movie and hoped that we would revisit the events of the past weekend.
Much to my dismay, nothing happened at all. The first movie ended and Mom never even so much as placed her hand on my thigh. We cleaned up from dinner and I headed to my bedroom to get ready for my shower.
After showering, I wondered what I should wear. It seemed weird that I even thought about it, but I was anxious to impress Mom. I was convinced that I had underperformed or disappointed her in some way. That had to be why she was not acknowledging what had happened.
I put on some tighter-fitting clothing than I had the previous week. The shorts were particularly snug. I knew that if were to get excited while wearing them, it would be quite obvious. As I entered the living room, it seemed like I wasn’t the only one that was dressed to impress. Mom was wearing a skimpy set of pajamas that didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. The bottoms were essentially boyshorts and the top was a very low-cut tank top.
It had quickly become obvious that Mom hadn’t tired of me just yet. My cock was already on the rise by the time that I sat down on the couch. She started the movie and immediately placed her hand on my thigh. The movie was some over-sexualized suspense movie. It started with a scene in some sort of hotel. A woman was on top of a man, riding him “cowgirl-style.” The scene probably went on for a couple of minutes, but it seemed like forever. I was already fully erect and completely worked up by the time she had dismounted him. The woman made mention of payment for her services before leaving the room. Moments after she left, somebody entered the room and shot the man dead. I was disappointed that I wasn’t going to see more of the woman. She was completely stunning.
“Do you want to see that again?” Mom asked.
I nodded affirmatively. It was the kind of thing that I would have watched ten times if she weren’t around.
She backed up the movie to the start. As soon as the action resumed, I felt her hand drifting from my thigh. It slowly traveled up and away until it found the bulge in the front of my shorts. A single finger teased up and down my cock. Mom’s eyes never lost track of the outline that I purposely left for her.
The contact was subtle and gentle. It was just enough to keep me fully aroused but without the possibility of release. I was so incredibly horny that I couldn’t pay any attention to the movie. Much like Mom, I just stared at my own crotch, watching her finger torment me. It felt like she had been teasing me for days and although I have no point of reference, it must have been at least a half hour. I wanted to say something to her, to beg her to finally finish me off, but I didn’t.
After all of that prolonged torture, she finally withdrew her hand. My head was in a spin as I wondered what she was possibly up to. She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it across the room, then she directed me to do the same.
As soon as I did, her hand returned to my midsection, but now it was threatening to sneak inside my shorts. It felt like an eternity before she finally made contact with my cock. My body quivered at her initial touch. With only the head peeking out from the top of my shorts, she explored my cock carefully from the tip to the base. I couldn’t help but notice that her right hand had found its way between her thighs.
“You should probably take your shorts off as well, Sweetheart,” she suggested.
Quickly deciding that it would be wrong for me to argue with my mother at such a delicate time, I removed my shorts and underwear and tossed them into the rapidly increasing laundry pile.