Unspoken Pleasure

I mean, she looked good. But compared to that yellow dress, there was no way I wouldn’t be disappointed. She was trying to turn down the heat, trying to cool the boiling tension back down to a placid simmer. She probably realized she was getting carried away herself, so she wanted to get things back under control. Good luck with that, Mom! She wore a nice, dark orange, slim top, made of a bit thicker material than some of her other tops, so it left a bit more to the imagination than her other outfits. Down below, she had on a nice denim skirt, down to her knees. She looked like a sweet, attractive older woman in this outfit. But her other garments… those made her look sexy. I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

“What?” she asked, posing for me, but the look she gave me let me know she knew the answer. She was dressing down, not displaying her luscious curves as boldly. She gave me a small knowing smile. I sat back and tilted my head side-to-side, displaying my ambivalence. “I think it’s nice!” she added.

“Yeah… nice,” I said, making the word convey my dissatisfaction. “You can do better than nice.” She gave me a pointed look.

“Okay, just because it doesn’t cling to my big boobs doesn’t make it boring,” Mom stated, making me smirk in response. Bingo, there she was again, mentioning her chest to me. And this time, she added the adjective. Big. She was getting into this, despite what she might say.

“It’s not so bad,” she replied, glancing at herself in the mirror. I looked at her again, trying to get a glimpse at her denim clad ass. Again, feeling a bit bold, I spoke up.

“Turn around.” I asked calmly.

“What?” she asked, a bit confused.

“Turn around.” I repeated with a light, confident smile, leaning back. She rolled her eyes, but her annoyance wasn’t gonna stop her from doing as I asked. She exhaled slighted and spun around for me, turning her back to me, twirling her hips gracefully so I could look at her rear. I mean, she knew what my question meant. I pretty much asked, ‘Hey Mom, show me your ass.’ And, despite any objections she might have at this thing getting a bit out of control, she was still willing to comply. She was still willing to showcase her ass for her own son. She was willing to do as I asked, because she liked it.

I stared right at my mother’s round butt for a few moments, letting the silence between us last. Of course, she looked good. Of course, her ass looked good. But she could do better. She had it. She just needed to flaunt it.

“Uh… it’s not very… flattering,” I told her.

“What?” she asked, looking back at me.

“The skirt, it’s… kinda bulky. Doesn’t flatter you.” I told her.

“Flatter?” she inquired. I looked up at her with a knowing look. We both knew what I was talking about. That skirt didn’t showcase her hot ass enough. She could do better. I’d seen better. “Well…” she began. “I think that last dress was a bit TOO flattering,” she said, smoothing the skirt over her jutting butt, trying to better display it for me. Trying to let her own son know her ass still looked good in this dress. “But I still think this one’s good.”

“Turn around, again,” I told her confidently, and this time, she didn’t hesitate at all. She spun right around for me, and even through the thicker material, and, from what I could tell, her bra, I could see the indents of those nipples, once again. Unknowingly, she smoothed out her top, trying to make her outfit more pleasing, trying to showcase her body better for me, her son. She looked up at me again, waiting for my yay or nay. With her watching, I let my eyes calmly and slowly slide over her body, hungrily taking in her figure with my eyes. My eyes stared right at her big breasts, down her belly, over her firm thighs and calves, before going back up her long legs, looking past her massive mountains and back at her gorgeous face. The heat in my eyes couldn’t be hidden. Her eyes widened slightly, for just a moment, before she suppressed it. She waited for my judgement, and I simply shook my head.

“Not gonna work for me,” I told her with a smile. Her eyes went blank for a moment, distracted, before she wordlessly turned back and around and sauntered away, back down the hall. And as she walked away, her ass was bouncing for me, side-to-side. She had to realize what she was doing it at this point. She had to.

She liked having me stare at her. At her hot body. She liked being appreciated in a sexual way, even by her own son. She liked me telling her, in not so many words, that I enjoyed watching her showcase her hot body for me. Show off some skin. Despite her hesitance, she wasn’t stopping. She kept going even past the point where she really should have stopped. Where her instincts as a woman and a mother should stop her. But she wasn’t stopping it. She was letting this play out.

Was this the moment Mom decided she wanted my thick teenage dick stuffed inside her vagina? Did Mom want to reward my teenage boldness and confidence with hot, nasty sex? I’m sure she was at least thinking about it at that very moment. She had to be. That blank look in her eyes was her imagining me hammering her tight cunt with my throbbing shaft, making her squeal. It had to be.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

Any hesitance or confusion she was feeling wasn’t apparent when she sauntered back out of her room a few minutes later. She was unable to contain her enjoyment at this little fashion show. She couldn’t hide it from me. She marched right up to my doorway and posed for me, looking down at me with a confident smile.

“So… what do you think?” she asked with a teasing smile, putting her hands on her hips.

“Much better,” I said, sitting back slightly. Her orange top had been replaced with a red one, far more snug than the last. And far more low-cut as well, showing off a large amount of tender cleavage, more than she had so far, by a lot. It wasn’t indecent or anything, but it was noticeable. She no doubt noticed my eyes sinking into the cavern between her big boobs, my eyes hungrily looking over the soft, smooth orbs, but she didn’t mind. She didn’t say a word of objection. She even bent forward slightly to give me a better look. And she didn’t mind when my eyes locked right onto her protruding nipples. The material clung to her giant rack, and her fit belly, leading my eyes downward. She had replaced the denim skirt with a much thinner one, white with a black pattern on it. While it wasn’t figure hugging, it was shorter than the other ones, and it had a lot more flow to it, meaning it moved around a lot more as opposed to just clinging to her taut legs. And it showed off a lot of those long, firm gams.

“You like it?” she asked, biting her lower lip. Mom was turning up the heat, giving me what I wanted to see.

“Yeah,” I replied, sitting back.

“Does it show off my huge breasts enough for you?” Mom asked sarcastically, but the fact that she even mentioned her big jugs yet again was a win for me.

“Oh yeah.” I replied with a grin. She rolled her eyes, but I could tell she still liked it.

She turned to face the mirror, posing a bit, checking out some different angles of her outfit. I checked out her profile as she stood next to me, and damn, she looked fucking good. Her mammoth jugs were jutting outward. The tops of them were exposed, and the flesh was so pliant and smooth that I could see her big boobs rippling with every small move she made. God, they looked perky. And firm. And massive. I couldn’t stop staring.

I shook myself and looked up before she could notice my gaze. But I then noticed hers. Even though she was supposed to be looking at her outfit in the mirror, she was looking at me. And she wasn’t looking at my handsome face. No, her eyes were glued to my crotch, staring at my bulge. I moved slightly, spreading my legs apart to give her a better look, and this movement made her eyes jump to her own reflection. She acted like all was normal, resumed doing what she was supposed to be doing, appraising her outfit.

“I like it a lot,” Mom said, turning to face me, slightly flustered, trying to act like she hadn’t just checked out her son’s dick.

“The outfit?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

“Yes, the outfit,” she stammered, blushing slightly. She gave no signs that she had sneaked a peek. It was pure instinct. An uncontrollable urge. If she wasn’t thinking about it before, Mom had to be thinking about impaling her pussy on my thick, beefy cock now. She had to. I could just tell. “I like seeing more skin.” I told her boldly.

“Oh yeah?” she asked, not objecting to me as much as she would have mere minutes prior. She was speaking to me with the teasing lilt of a smitten teenager, seeking her crush’s approval. The tenor between us had changed. The dynamic had shifted. It felt like the room was on a tilt, forcing us both towards my nice big bed. My cock and her cunt were on a collision course, and we were both starting to realize that.

I twirled my fingers in the air silently, and she obeyed, spinning around. And as she did, the benefits of that skirt were shown off. As she did a crisp twirl, her skirt rose slightly, and due to its short length, that meant I got a quick peek at the underside of her ass cheeks. And, I got a peek at the tiny white lace string tucked between those cheeks. Mom had changed underwear for me, and she was now wearing a thong. My dick pulsed with need, and for a moment I almost let my hunger overtake me. I had never pushed things so far with Mom before, but even though I could sense where this was heading, I wasn’t slowing down. I could feel it. I could practically see the future. She put that thong on for a reason. To show it to me. And if I played my cards right, I would get to see it fully.